Sheera hid out in the kitchen as minutes passed by like hours, grateful that the chef had no interest in serving dessert; instead he'd abandoned the staff in a thankless huff, and the atmosphere was all the better for it.

Unfortunately the lack of yelling wasn't enough to calm Sheera's nerves.

Every time Clément or one of the other servers came into the kitchen, she thought it was Gabriel Asher, there to kill her with a zap of a finger for invading their party like a no-good spy. Or worse yet, kidnap her until she led them to the other 'Kindreds' so he could kill them all. In other words she had killing-related scenarios on the mind.

The next person to come through to the kitchen was Luke, his hair now tousled and face stamped with lipstick marks.

"Don't judge me," he said, already sounding defensive. "I was just keeping up my role so as to not get us killed."

It was comforting to know that one of them had kept up the charade, she thought guiltily.

"What's wrong?" he said, when he noticed her staring off into nothing.

She glanced behind him through the kitchen door's window.

"Are they still out there? Is there more?"

"It's done," he confirmed, using a wet cloth to rub the lipstick off his face, the reflection from a stainless steel pot lid as his guide.

Clément approached them and handed Luke a neatly folded stack of euros. "The ladies insisted I tip you directly," he said rolling his eyes.

Luke took the wad of cash and stared at it blankly, the money seeming almost meaningless after witnessing the glee for destruction in the Shadowers' blackened hearts. He sighed and stuffed the money into his pocket. "Thanks," he said, nodding to Clément. "Some money for the fund, I guess." He was referring to the safe in Madam Quillfern's study where all the money for things like 'Kindred' recruitment and food and electricity was stored. Everyone knew that the fund was almost solely supplied by the generous heart of Madam Quillfern and some family money she'd inherited, so it was always nice when a fellow Kindred could make a contribution here or there.

He finished wiping his face and gestured to Sheera. "Let's go," he said. "We can leave out the front this time."

He turned back to shake Clément's hand. "Thanks for everything, mate."

"Did you get the information you required?" he asked, though he was clearly indifferent to whatever the response might be.

Luke's features strained into a frown. "Unfortunately...yes."

Clément approached Sheera for the French goodbye kisses on either cheek. "Give Orisa my regards, will you?'

Sheera nodded but she barely heard him.

"And tell her to call me!" he added as they disappeared into the corridor.

Besides the receiving door, the only other way to exit the hotel was through the ballroom and out the front entrance. It was safe now with all of the Shadowers gone, but the empty ballroom in serious need of a cleaning left Sheera with a feeling of unease.

She didn't dare say anything Kindred-related to Luke, lest they were somehow being watched, but she found it difficult to keep a cool head so she sped walk past him to avoid saying a word.

"Slow down!" called out Luke.

Sheera ignored him and rushed outside to breathe in the cool night air. The Shadowers who had been guarding the hotel entrance had left along with everyone else, and aside from a few cars whizzing past and the random drunken cries that were typical of a night in Paris, all was still.

Luke joined her outside a few moments later.

"What's going on with you?" he said frowning.

Before Sheera could blabber out every detail of being convinced she'd been outed, a realization drew her into silence. She simply wasn't comfortable sharing her paranoia with Luke, not after he'd mentioned that Gabriel Asher had the most punchable face on earth. He was already extremely triggered, so what would he do if he found out that Damien had discovered who or what she was? He'd probably go into panic and bravery mode all at once and get himself killed.

"Well?" Luke urged. "What's the matter?"

There was only one calm and reasoned voice Sheera was after, but first she had to make it back. "I'm fine," she said. "Just a little exhausted; being a server isn't an easy job!"

She could tell that he didn't believe her either, but he seemed to let it slide when they both felt a sudden chill in the air. "Let's get out of here," he said, in a suddenly casual tone. "Lots of studying to do on our hospitality courses."

It seemed that Luke was a little paranoid too, so he led her down Rue de Rivoli at a quick pace going east. On their way they approached the large gate that gave way to the massive enclosed cobblestoned square of The Louvre. The modern glass pyramid was a fixture of the entrance and now glimmered in the halo of the spotlights.

"You ever been there before?" he said, slowing in awe as he approached arched gateway.

She squinted her eyes for a quick look, before checking behind her to make sure they weren't being followed.

"It's pretty magnificent," he went on. "To think the book was just sitting here all those years."

"Shhhh!" she hissed worriedly.

"What?" he said. "We already left the hotel behind; maybe we can be ourselves now."

She hoped he was right but after what had happened she couldn't be sure. All she knew for certain was that she wasn't ready to tell him about her eerie interaction with Damien, so she dug deep in her brain to find a way to switch gears. "Being here reminds me of when my brother had the stolen Wi-Fi on and downloaded this app where you can see all the works of arts in the Louvre in digital HD." She frowned. "Except his old phone doesn't even have HD; and the screen is cracked."

"Whoa whoa whoa," he took a few steps back. "Stolen Wi-Fi? Louvre on a phone? One of those things is wrong and I'll give you a hint: I think Wi-Fi should be free for everyone on earth."

It was the first time all night that her smile had been real and not some cover to seem relaxed around the Shadowers. "Those cracked screen paintings were still pretty good on a Saturday night in the Bronx," she said.

"I'd like to take you there one day." He said, gesturing to the museum. "If there's time; when all of this is over." He stared at her intensely. "I hope there's time."

As Luke started to lean in for what would be their first kiss, she almost forgot that she might've ruined their mission. But not quite.

She took a step back and it was official: the kiss would have to wait.

"We should get back as soon as possible so they know we're safe," she said firmly.

His deep stare faded out. "I guess you're right." He turned his back on the Louvre and walked away from her at brisk pace. "Come on."

***

After looking back a hundred times on the walk home and likely damaging her neck, Sheera felt almost certain that neither Damien nor anyone else had followed them home. That fact was more confusing than anything else; he'd called her out, he knew what she was, so why hadn't he destroyed her? Only Madam Quillfern's wisdom would be able to make any sense of the conundrum.

Back at the compound, Luke and Sheera first spent over two hours debriefing everyone in the dining room, detailing everything they'd seen.

By the end — at three a.m. — surrounded by empty coffee mugs, Sheera stared back at tired faces that couldn't hide their grave concern.

They were out-numbered two to one, Gabriel Asher had an heir, and the Kindreds couldn't wait for the 'soul percentage' to drop to the critical number that would trigger the Shadowers' plan.

"It's been a long night," said Madam Quillfern, her voice sounded cracked and almost defeated. "It's best to get some sleep now; we will review things in the morning with renewed inspiration!"

She barely believed what she was saying and neither did the others. As Kindred by Kindred shuffled out of the dining room, Sheera tapped Madam Quillfern on the shoulder. "If you have a moment before you're off to bed...I need to tell you something."

Madam Quillfern nodded like she wasn't surprised. "Meet me in my study in five minutes."

Sheera arrived in Madam Quillfern's study exactly five minutes later; she found her sitting at her desk with both fists resting under chin.

"Sit down," she said gesturing to the armchair. Sheera did as instructed. "So tell me: who spoke to you and what happened?"

Sheera was stunned. "Excuse me?"

"Relax!" she said heartily. "I didn't have surveillance or anything of the sort. But I started to have dreams about you, and in them you were always speaking to a dark-clothed man in a corridor. A man who I presumed must be a Shadower. So please, go on."

As Sheera tried her best not to get fixated on Madam Quillfern's apparent psychic powers, she explained every word and facial expression she'd exchanged with Damien, while also admitting to that split second reaction she'd been unable hide, that moment in the ballroom when the chandelier had seemed like it would crash into Luke's skull.

Madam Quillfern tapped her fingers together in silent rhythm. "I see; I see."

Sheera was surprised by her low-key reaction.

"And no one followed you home?" she added.

"No," Sheera said, with as much confidence as she could muster. "I'm certain of it."

"He doesn't know you're one of us for certain," Madam Quillfern concluded.

"What?" Sheera said, her eyes widening by the second; it was not the assessment she'd expected.

"He thought you had seen the magic, but you somehow convinced him you hadn't." Madam Quillfern smiled. "Well done!"

Sheera shook her head. "I don't think he left me with the feeling that he'd simply been mistaken. He left acting like he knew."

"But let's remember he's Gabriel Asher's son," said Madam Quillfern. "Trained from birth to be as ruthless as they come; if he knew, you'd be trapped in a dungeon by now."

Sheera studied her carefully. "Do you...really believe that?"

"I really, really do," she said assuredly. "Now please put this out of your mind and focus on attaining our skills in the art of magic. And as soon as possible."

"That's all?" Sheera said, not quite able to process Madam Quillfern's lack of action.

"Is that not enough?" Madam Quillfern countered. "To learn the skills to defeat the Shadowers once and for all?"

Sheera nodded slowly. "No of course it is; you're right." She rose from the armchair and left Madam Quillfern's study in a haze.

The woman who had explained so much about this whole world to Sheera, was for some reason now offering the littlest explanation of all. Or perhaps her judgment had been affected by the hopelessness of learning how short in numbers the Kindreds really were. Either way it was disconcerting.

Back in the study, Madam Quillfern sat at her desk staring off into the distance with a smile. "Could it be..." she whispered. "Could it really be as the visions foretold..."

She stood from her desk and approached the atlas where the meager thirteen percent now glowed. She traced her finger along the tiny glowing lights on various points of the map. "We'll be ready," she said calmly. "If she stays on course, we'll be ready..."

***

The next morning, Madam Quillfern was inexplicably in bright spirits. She was wearing an apron and whipping up fresh scones at an impressive rate. She arranged the latest batch in a basket as the Kindreds looked on in surprise. Luke, Sheera and Xavier followed Madam Quillfern into the dining room, where they found the table laid out with ceramic jugs of freshly squeezed orange juice, and crystal bowls filled with clotted cream, berry compote and a variety of other mouthwatering spreads.

"Anyone hungry for an English breakfast?" she said beaming.

***

Arjun, Orisa , Luke and Sheera were back at their Indian restaurant hideout, but this time instead of a hotel layout, they were pouring over a printout of a map.

Orisa circled three areas on the map. "When you said Gabriel mentioned a mansion as their compound, it narrowed down his possible locations to these three arrondissements." She had circled two neighborhoods east of the Eiffel Tower, and another across from the river by the famous shopping avenue the Champs Elysées.

"He was likely referring to some sort of duplex penthouse," added Arjun. "As in a cramped city like Paris you will not find huge standalone homes."

"Unless he took over an entire six-floor building and did massive renovations," said Orisa, her face clouding over with concern.

"So he could be anywhere," said Luke dejectedly.

"Arjun and I will focus on these three areas for now," said Orisa. "Who knows, maybe something will turn up!" She appeared confident at first, but after a few seconds of collective silence, she adopted Luke's look of dismay. "I think she might be losing it," she suddenly blurted.

Sheera narrowed her eyes. She couldn't possibly mean...

"You mean Madam Quillfern?" said Arjun quickly. Orisa nodded in confirmation. "Her effortful optimism is somewhat disconcerting."

"Of course it is!" cried Luke. "We don't even have a plan! Or maybe there is no plan, but not having anyone talk about it isn't going to make it any better!"

"You guys," said Sheera calmly, clasping her hands together and resting them table. "We can't do this."

Orisa frowned. "Cannot do what?"

"Can't give up! I know it seems like it's just a matter of time before it's all over, but if we give up now and lose the vibrant light in our souls, what hope does the rest of the world have? Are we really going to make it easier for that lunatic to take over the world by giving up already?"

Despite the impossible circumstances, the slightest hope shimmered in the eyes of Sheera's tablemates.

"So are we good?" said Sheera, suddenly their life humanity-saving life coach.

Luke grudgingly nodded and Orisa hinted at a smile.

"Then will get started on checking the neighborhoods for any signs," said Arjun.

"And you'll finish memorizing," said Luke to Sheera with a sudden smile. "Because it's time to learn that all-important magic wouldn't you say?" He poked her elbow and that prom king grin of confidence was back. It was the first time she'd seen it since the night before outside the Louvre, and strange as it was, in that short amount of time she'd already missed it.

She gestured to the stack of yellow rolled dessert balls in the display case. "Order me some ladoos to go, I need to get my ass back to work."

***

Later that afternoon, Sheera stood on the rooftop, glaring at the smooth oval pebble at her feet.

"Move," she commanded. "Move!" Despite all of the encouragement she'd received on learning magic, she wasn't one step closer to believing she was up for the task.

Luke stood across from her laughing. "If memory serves that isn't an official spell."

"But the spell isn't working and I've tried a hundred times!"

He approached her with a sympathetic smile. "But didn't Madam Quillfern tell you that it could take five hundred tries? Or more?"

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the pep talk, bro."

"Weren't you the one giving us a pep talk at the restaurant? Where did all that enthusiasm go?"

She kicked the pebble. "I know I'm better than this; I've gotta be."

"That's the spirit!" he said clapping his hands.

"But what if it's going to take me a month before I get the hang of this?! The way the soul scale is dropping we don't have that kind of time, you know?" She lowered her head. "Maybe I should just bow out of this one and let you guys do it yourselves."

"But you can't give up," he said, taking another step forward.

"Why?" she said quietly, her head still lowered.

He traced his fingers up and down her arm. "Because you still have the biggest glow we've ever seen."

His touch was like a magnet that couldn't stop her from meeting his eyes. "Oh that," she said, getting lost in his stare. "I forgot we all had those since I still can't even see them." Without thinking, she placed her hands on his shoulders. "Is there a glow here?"

"Some of it is here," he said softly.

"Where's the rest of it?" she said, tracing a finger around his neck.

He didn't answer in words, but he kissed her. She lost herself completely in the new sensation, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips more deeply onto his, the thoughts of spells and the end of the world seemed to all fade away...