The morning air carried the scent of fresh coffee and urban exhaust as Kaine adjusted his collar for the third ti in five minutes.
He’d chosen his clothes carefully—dark jeans that looked casual but allowed for quick movent, a black button-down shirt, and a leather jacket.
Professional but approachable. The kind of appearance that said ’competent investigator’ without screaming ’heavily ard vampire killer.’
Marcus stood three blocks away, positioned where he could observe the coffee shop’s entrance while maintaining the appearance of soone waiting for a bus. Kaine had told him to stay put. Although it had taken several tries to get the ghoul not to follow, but it paid off eventually.
The Ghoul’s pale eyes tracked pedestrian movent with the eyes of a predator, cataloging potential threats and or anyone at all that lingered too much.
’Better to have backup and not need it than need backup and not have it.’
ridian Grounds looked exactly as it had the day before—trendy interior visible through large windows, the morning crowd of professionals and students creating the perfect background noise for private conversation.
Kaine pushed through the entrance, scanning the interior for anyone matching Sarah Morgan’s description. Blue jacket, brown leather portfolio. Should be easy enough to spot in a crowd this size.
But as he moved through the coffee shop, checking each table and booth, he realized he had a problem.
There were at least six won sitting alone, and none of them appeared to be waiting for anyone in particular. So were absorbed in laptops or tablets, others were reading books or newspapers, a few were simply staring out the windows with the blank expression of people whose minds were elsewhere entirely.
Any one of them could be Sarah Morgan.
’Should have asked for more specific identification details. Professional oversight that could complicate things if she’s the type who doesn’t like being kept waiting.’
He checked his watch—8:03 AM. Three minutes late wasn’t unreasonable, especially considering morning traffic.
But the lack of obvious client identification was starting to feel like a problem.
Maybe she was late. Maybe she’d changed her mind about the eting. Maybe her friend’s situation had deteriorated overnight and required imdiate attention.
Or maybe sothing had happened to her.
Kaine pulled out his phone and dialed Sarah Morgan’s number, listening to the electronic ringing that would either connect him to his client or confirm that the morning had just beco significantly more complicated.
The call went straight to a recorded ssage informing him that the number he’d dialed was currently unavailable.
He tried again, with the sa result.
Phone switched off or damaged. Could be intentional. Could be accidental. Could be sothing worse.
’Maybe I should chill for a second,’ he reined himself in.
If her friend had been turned, and if that friend had tracked Sarah down through their previous connection, then his potential client might already be dead. Or worse—turned herself, and now operating under the influence of whatever vampire had originally corrupted her friend.
Bad for business.
He was halfway to the door when a voice called his na from behind.
The sound snaked into his ears past the coffee shop’s background noise like a blade through silk—low and familiar, carrying an undertone of desperation that suggested soone calling out of fear or surprise rather than casual recognition.
"Kaine?"
He turned, scanning the crowd for whoever had spoken his na, and felt the world shift beneath his feet like the ground had suddenly beco liquid.
Major Patricia Gwen stood three tables away, staring at him with an expression that mixed disbelief, relief, and sothing that might have been genuine joy.
Her hair was shorter than he rembered.
She wore dark jeans and a navy sweater that looked casual but probably concealed tactical equipnt, and her green eyes held the sa sharp intelligence that had made her one of Shadow Guard’s most effective field operatives.
For a mont, neither of them moved. The coffee shop continued its normal morning routine around them—conversations, laughter, the hiss of espresso machines—but Kaine felt like he was standing in a bubble of silence where ti had stopped moving forward.
Gwen walked toward him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a hug that felt like coming ho and walking into an ambush at the sa ti.
"I can’t believe you’re still alive," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
He was silent at first—out of shock, disbelief, or sothing else entirely.
"Well, death has to earn ," he said at last, the old joke slipping from his lips before he even realized it.
She pulled back, studying his face with the intensity of soone trying to reconcile mory with reality.
"You’re the client," he said, understanding finally clicking into place. "Sarah Morgan. There’s no friend who needs help, is there?"
"No." Her smile carried a mixture of guilt and relief. "I needed to talk to you, and I wasn’t sure you’d agree to et if I used my real na."
"Why wouldn’t I?"
Instead of answering, she gestured toward an empty table near the back of the coffee shop. "Can we sit down? There’s a lot to discuss."
As they made their way through the crowd, Gwen’s eyes tracked over his appearance.
He looked different than she rembered—paler, with the kind of hollow expression that suggested soone who hadn’t been eating regular als or sleeping through the night.
They claid a table positioned where both of them could observe the entrance and exit routes.
"You’ve been alive this whole ti?" Gwen asked, settling into her chair.
"Yes."
"We all thought you were dead," Gwen said. "The mission went to shit. No one survived... except for that tech girl."
"Jemima? The tech girl? She survived?" Kaine asked, his voice low with disbelief. "I thought I was the only one. The news said nobody made it out."
"Yeah, well, she did," Gwen replied. "We even held a morial for you."
Kaine was silent for a mont. The organization was even shadier than he thought. Why had they hidden the truth? Sothing was definitely amiss.
"Why didn’t you reach out to anyone at the Shadow Guard?" Gwen cut into his train of thought.
Kaine’s expression darkened, and when he spoke his voice carried the bitter edge of soone who’d learned not to trust the people who were supposed to be on his side.
"After that operation, I realized I’d been set up. The intelligence was wrong, the backup was late, and the extraction team was nowhere to be found when everything went to hell." He leaned back in his chair, studying her face. "I can’t trust anyone. Not when I don’t know who’s clean and who’s working for the other side."
’With the way things have been going in the association lately, I can’t be sure either. Colonel Steele hasn’t been himself lately. Too many operations that feel like they’re designed to fail, too many good hunters ending up dead or missing under circumstances that don’t add up.’ Gwen thought for a brief second.
"Even ?" she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral. "Can’t you trust ?"
Kaine paused, and for a mont she could see him weighing his response.
In his mind, the answer was already clear—yes, even her.
So months of survival had taught him that trust was a luxury he couldn’t afford, regardless of personal history or professional relationships.
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, a server approached their table with the kind of bright smile that suggested soone who genuinely enjoyed their job.
"Good morning lovelies! You two make such a lovely couple," the young man said, pulling out a notepad. "What can I get started for you today?"
Gwen felt heat rise in her cheeks but managed to keep her expression neutral. "I’ll have a double shot cortado with oat milk."
"Sa for ," Kaine said, apparently unbothered by the couple assumption.
"Coming right up!" The server departed with the sa cheerful energy, leaving them alone with their unfinished conversation.
"So what have you been up to?" Kaine asked, changing the subject before she could return to the question of trust.
"The usual. Hunting undead, clearing nests, trying to keep the vampire population from getting completely out of control." She shrugged, as if years of supernatural warfare were just routine professional obligations which in truth, it was.
"You know how it is," she said with a sigh at the end.
Typical Patricia. Reduce the most dangerous job in the world to casual conversation, as if stalking creatures that could tear a person apart was no more complicated than office work.
"Why was your phone switched off this morning?" he asked.
"I was attacked by a vampire last night. Broke my phone during the fight." She touched her side unconsciously, where bruises from the encounter were still tender. "Couldn’t get a replacent—everything was closed, and I didn’t want to risk being late for our eting."
’She’s not telling everything. There’s more to last night’s encounter than a simple vampire attack. But everyone has secrets, and I’m not in a position to demand complete honesty from soone I haven’t seen in a year.’
"Who’s your friend outside?" Gwen asked, nodding toward Marcus through the window. "I saw you arrive together."
"Soone I work with now. We handle cases that require... specialized attention."
The server returned with their coffee, setting down matching cups and he departed again with another bright smile, leaving them to continue their careful dance around topics neither seed ready to address directly.
Gwen pulled out a small notebook and pen, writing down a series of numbers. "This is my personal contact information. I’ll be getting a new phone later today."
Kaine took the paper, noting that her handwriting was the sa precise script he rembered from mission reports and operational briefings. So things hadn’t changed, even if everything else felt different.
She checked her watch—8:57 AM. Ti was moving faster than she’d expected, and her schedule was already packed with obligations that couldn’t be postponed.
"I need to get to work," she said, standing from the table. "But I’m glad we did this. It’s good to know you’re alive."
They left the coffee shop together, stepping into morning sunlight that made the city look clean and optimistic despite the supernatural predators that hunted in its shadows.
The street was busy with commuter traffic—cars, buses, pedestrians all moving with the purposeful urgency of people who had places to be and schedules to maintain.
Gwen raised her hand to signal for a taxi, and one pulled over. As she reached for the door handle, she stole a glance at Kaine’s profile.
He was still recognizably the sa person she’d known for so years now—the sa strong jaw, the sa dark eyes, the sa way of holding himself that suggested soone comfortable with violence when necessary.
But there was sothing different now, sothing harder and more isolated.
’He’s been through hell. Whatever happened after that mission, whatever he’s been doing to survive; it’s changed him in ways that probably go deeper than physical appearance.’
But he was still handso. That hadn’t changed at all.
"Take care of yourself, Kaine," she said, settling into the taxi’s back seat.
"You too, Patricia."
The taxi pulled into traffic, carrying her toward Shadow Guard headquarters.
Through the rear window, she watched Kaine standing on the sidewalk until the taxi turned a corner and he disappeared from view.
He’d remain there for another minute, she knew, watching until he was certain she was safely away before returning to whatever Marcus was and whatever kind of life they’d built together.
’Sa protective instincts. So things never change, no matter what else has been damaged or lost.’ Gwen mused.
As the city passed by outside the windows, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this morning had been the beginning of sothing rather than the end.
Too many questions remained unanswered, too many secrets were still buried between them.
So reunions were simple. This wasn’t going to be one of them.
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