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Ilsbeth’s face softened, and she smiled slightly. She put her hand on Luca’s forearm. “Yes, it’s true, Luca. It is uncommon but has occurred a number of times over the centuries…very rare, though. I certainly would not plan a future based upon it. Witches bear children to humans and witches…sometimes shifters. It is the natural course of our kind. Luca, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but please be cautious in how you proceed in your relationship with Samantha. I can see how she trusts you. I must counsel you to be honest with her before you decide to claim her. She’s getting stronger, but she’s still fragile,” she advised.

“She may have once been fragile, but she is not as delicate as you would think. In fact, she’s quite a bright and capable woman,” Luca acknowledged.

“Luca, today you are full of surprises. I never thought I’d see the day when you would come to care for a human woman, albeit a witch. Very interesting indeed,” Ilsbeth smiled slyly. “Take care, Luca. Please keep her safe.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned and walked behind the shimmering curtain that blocked the view of visitors from seeing further into the coven’s home.

Luca considered Ilsbeth’s insights. Yes, Samantha was emotionally delicate. But that was only because of the unwanted circumstances that had been thrust upon her; she’d suffered a loss of control. Luca reasoned that any human would have crumbled, given the same situation. Samantha could have chosen to give up, but instead, she’d fought with him to get her life back, to find out who was after her. Luca knew that Samantha was substantially stronger than he’d initially judged. She’d proven herself resilient and resourceful at each step of the journey; she was more determined than ever to find the Hematilly Periapt and get her life in order.

Upstairs, Samantha feverishly searched her guest room for evidence of an amulet or some kind of clue. When she’d spent time at the coven, she’d written herself little notes every day, hoping that one would spark her lost memory. She was certain that she had left a few in the room when she left for Pennsylvania. Yet, scouring the room, she could barely find a speck of dust in the cleaned out desk, let alone any of her memos. No wonder Ilsbeth had allowed her to search her room; everything she’d written had been thrown in the trash.

Samantha walked down the circular, cedar-lined hallway. As she approached the library, Rowan, the librarian, sat working at her desk, guarding the entrance. She sat in front of the ornately-carved wooden doors, working on her laptop, appearing not to notice Samantha. Rowan’s long, frizzy black hair cascaded over her petite figure. She was oddly attractive, dressing as if she was a college student, in a mini-skirt with a sharply pressed white oxford shirt. While she looked as if she was only in her twenties, Samantha knew that she was nearly fifty years old.

Casually approaching the witch, Samantha cleared her throat. “Hi Rowan, long time no see.”

“Ah you’re back, Sam. Are you moving back into your old room?” she inquired.

“Uh…no, well not yet. Right now, I’m staying with a friend,” Samantha responded. “I was just looking for my notes in my old room, but I guess they were thrown out. I really need to get going but I thought I’d stop by and say hi on the way out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Do you have my cell number? Maybe we could go out for coffee sometime,” she suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” Rowan cautiously eyed Samantha, wondering why she was roaming around the coven hallways unescorted. She made a mental note to discuss this incident with Ilsbeth. Samantha was nice, but she wasn’t a sister. They couldn’t afford that kind of security lapse. Rowan got up from her desk and stood protectively in front of the library doors, guarding its entrance.

Typing numbers into their cell phones, Rowan and Samantha politely exchanged numbers. Samantha wanted to ask Rowan to let her into the library, but knew it would never happen. She might be friendly, but she was nothing short of ruthless when it came to protecting coven secrets. Explaining that she had a friend waiting, Samantha quickly ran down the coven steps and into Luca’s waiting arms. On an intellectual level, Samantha knew the coven was supposed to feel like home, but on an emotional level, it felt like a prison and she couldn’t wait to leave.

* * *

Luca turned the ignition and tried to figure out how he’d pitch his next idea to Samantha. They had come up with practically nothing at the coven. It was clear that Ilsbeth didn’t want them to have the amulet or speak of it, but besides that, they didn’t have much more information than before they came. If the object scared Ilsbeth, that was not a good sign.

Luca wondered what the amulet did that caused Ilsbeth to insist they stop looking for it. He knew one fact for certain; it was important enough that someone would murder in order to get it. It was possible that Asgear had had the amulet and then that Samantha had stolen it at some point. Perhaps she’d hidden it? Samantha’s memory had failed her so far, and Luca wasn’t sure he wanted her to remember the rest of the gory details of her abduction. Overnight, Samantha had appeared to grow stronger, and he didn’t want to risk a relapse.

The problem, Luca surmised, was that there weren’t many places he was aware of that they could even search. The only two locations she’d been at for certain were the mausoleum in St. Louis cemetery and Sangre Dulce, where Samantha had been bespelled into posing as a waitress and submissive. The mausoleum was out of the question, because it had been destroyed. Dominique and Ilsbeth had taken care of that.

As for Sangre Dulce, Luca was concerned about taking her back to the club. If they went back, there was a risk she could be traumatized all over again. When she’d been in Kade’s basement during her initial interrogation, she’d nearly fainted after being shown pictures of herself nude, serving drinks. She only had a vague memory of having a drink with a man, James, who was really Asgear. No other memories existed for her.

Shifting in his seat, he drove towards home and sighed. “So listen, Samantha,” he began. “Since Ilsbeth was a bust, we don’t have many options. I have a plan, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” He didn’t bother looking over at Samantha to gauge her reaction, and kept his eyes fixed on the road.

“Well, let’s just say, I’m open to suggestions. There was nothing in my old room. In fact, they’d cleaned the place out. And until Ilsbeth or Rowan try to log into the coven site, we can’t hack into their server. So, whatever’s on your mind has got to be better than the whole lot of nothin’ we’ve got now.” She shrugged and glanced over at him.

“Okay, if you’re open to it, here goes. I’m thinking it’s a real possibility that Asgear stole or found this amulet. Maybe he knew what it did, maybe he didn’t. I’m also thinking that maybe you took it and hid it before or during being bespelled. Just because he bespelled you, it doesn’t mean you liked him. He could have told you what it did, and you inherently knew he wouldn’t put it to good use. Now, how someone else knows you were with him or that you might have had it, is a true mystery.” Luca steeled himself before telling Samantha that they were returning to her living hell. “I think that we need to go back to Sangre Dulce to take a look around, maybe talk to the other waitresses, look for clues. We know you were there.”

Samantha silently contemplated his proposal. She loathed the idea of returning to that club. It had forever fucked up her life: one decision to go out with friends, one decision to have a drink with a stranger. Going back could bring back her memory or not. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to remember. She could literally pick up with her life and move on, not having to worry about the frightening lost memories. Yet if she went back to the club, she might possibly find evidence to lead them to the amulet. Whoever was looking for that damn thing would not leave her in peace until they got it. There was a real possibility that she had done exactly what Luca had postulated. She would never know until she tried.