She raised the shovel, ready to plunge it into the soft soil. "I am not afraid. I am not." "You should be." A sinister, accented voice pierced her consciousness. The shovel fell from her nerveless fingers, thudding onto the cold ground. Cassandra knew that voice; it had the rich, dark cadence that had haunted her dreams since the night she'd first met him. She spun around, the hood of her cloak falling to her shoulders. Rafael Villar stepped out from behind a mausoleum. The shadows embraced his bronze skin, obscuring the scars on the left side of his face while moonlight highlighted his exotic Mediterranean features on the right.... "You! You've been the one disturbing my people?