No one can make you feel inferior without your consent, especially when you wear the rune I do.

  ~Eleanor Roosevelt

  At the wheel of a rented sports car, Gregorios approached a gated estate in the hills above Los Angeles, with views of the distant ocean and Santa Monica beach. He passed the main entrance without slowing and turned at a secondary drive.

  A solid steel gate blocked the road, but he pulled up to the keypad and punched in a sixteen-digit universal facetaker code. He held his breath as he pressed the pound key to submit the code.

  It had been valid just weeks prior, but the codes changed every two months. If a new code was in play, a warning would trigger inside the estate and he’d lose the element of surprise.

  Tomas and Sarah waited back at the hotel. If this visit went poorly, he didn’t want them caught in the crossfire. He trusted Tomas to continue the mission to find and free Eirene if he was taken or incapacitated.

  After an eternal two seconds, a green light blinked on and the gate swung silently open. A fraction of his tension eased and he accelerated up the winding drive to the sprawling estate atop the hill.

  He passed several armed security guards who saluted but did not interfere. Unless they received orders to the contrary, they allowed every facetaker with the correct code unfettered access to the main grounds.

  He parked in front of the huge white, Caribbean-style mansion that reared four stories high with wings that swept back from the circular drive in gentle arcs. He left the car with a valet and entered the building where an aged, tuxedoed butler stood waiting for him.

  “How may I assist you, sir?” The man spoke with a British accent as stiff as his starched collar.

  “Please take me to Meryem.”

  “Should I call ahead, sir?” Even though protocol dictated that Gregorios announce himself, he ignored the tradition.

  “No. We’re old friends and I want to surprise her.”

  “She does like surprises,” the old man said and turned to lead the way into the complex.

  Although the old butler was very subtle, Gregorios caught the shift of one arm between strides. Most likely, the old fellow was alerting security. Good. Gregorios hated unprofessional help.

  The butler led him to a sprawling patio surrounding an Olympic-sized swimming pool. A wide portico shaded the area, with inset stained-glass skylights that cast rainbows of light across the water.

  Half-reclining in a plush poolside chaise and wearing a surprisingly modest swimsuit, sat Meryem, a voluptuous woman with thick, dark hair that spilled past her shoulders. A couple of shirtless assistants who could have posed for men’s health magazines sat nearby taking notes on laptops.

  The woman glanced over and gasped when she recognized Gregorios. She rose gracefully to her feet with a dazzling smile.

  Gregorios knew that face all too well and recognized her sensual movements, although he’d never seen her wearing that form. It was unusual for Meryem to hold onto a body very long. He’d never known her to look over thirty. Although still alluring, her body was well into its forties.

  “Gregorios!” She glided across the patio to embrace him.

  “Hello, Meryem,” he replied with genuine warmth as he allowed thousands of pleasant memories to bubble through the back of his mind. “It’s very good to see you.”

  She retreated a step to scan him with an approving grin. “You’re looking great. That’s a new model, isn’t it?” For a second, a look of terrible hunger flitted across her face before she concealed it.

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  He pretended not to notice. “You look beautiful.”

  She laughed, her rich voice caressing his ears, and took his arm to lead him back to her chair. She waved the assistants away and ordered the butler to fetch food and drink. Then she settled onto the chaise and slid a hand down her flanks. “Always the gentleman, Greg. I’m fat and old.”

  He settled into a seat beside her, not bothering to look around for the telltale signs of security forces watching him through the sights of their rifles. Her adopted form no longer pleased her, so why did she not make a change?

  A pretty young serving girl arrived with a tray heaped with drinks and finger foods. Gregorios ignored it, but Meryem selected a tropical drink and took an appreciative sip.

  “You’re not one for rash moves, my old love. Why risk coming to see me now after so many years?”

  “You know why I’m here. Tell me about Eirene.”

  She made a childish little pout and sipped again. “Here I thought you’d turned over a new life and come to start another affair.”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid.”

  “But you could,” she said suggestively and leaned a little closer. Even wearing that form, she moved with the same seductive grace she always had.

  “We made some good memories,” he said gently, “but Eirene’s still my wife.”

  “For now,” Meryem said without rancor. “Until you move on, just like you did when you left me all those lives ago.”

  He leaned forward and cupped her face with one hand. Fear flickered in her eyes and her fingers tightened around her glass, but she did not pull back, did not embrace her nevra core. So a little trust still lingered.

  Gregorios let his fingers caress her warm cheek and his heart quickened with remembered passion. She began to smile and leaned into his hand.

  He wrapped his fingers around the edge of her jaw and tightened his grip. The fear returned to her eyes.

  “Now’s not the time for us,” he said. After tugging gently against her jawline, he released her. Meryem couldn’t quite hide her relief.

  “Now tell me where Eirene was taken and why she was targeted.”

  “There’s much going on, Greg,” Meryem said, leaning back out of reach and sipping again. “Projects half a century in the making are culminating. It’s an exciting time.” As she spoke, her eyes glowed with that same hunger.

  “I don’t care about that. I just want my wife.”

  “You’ll care eventually,” Meryem assured him. “You recently risked another transfer. How are you feeling?”

  “Impatient.” He allowed a hint of anger into his voice.

  Meryem saluted him with her drink. “You and your iron will.” Then her smile faded. “Even you aren’t immune. The day will come when you’ll need us.”

  “Today I just need my wife. Don’t make me ask again.”

  “I’m not a central player right now. Too much work with the consignment team.”

  “I’m not surprised. Some of the world leaders are getting old.”

  “Old and rich,” she agreed with a smile. “Just the way we like it.”

  “I’m glad you’re busy, but don’t change the subject.”

  “Oh Greg, you’ve been out too long. You should see what we can do with face recognition software these days.”

  “Not interested.”

  The consignment team, which Meryem had led for centuries, was responsible for scheduling soul transfers for wealthy clients. They maintained a database of potential clients and suggested body donors.

  In days of old the preferred transactions were those where rich clients supplied their own transfer vehicle, usually a young relative. When they lacked a suitable host, the consignment team would find and abduct one.

  In the last century, Meryem had started buying donors or, when that was not possible, paying out a large sum to the family of those taken. Disguised as life insurance payments, no one ever complained, even when they had known nothing about the policy.

  The activities of the consignment team had created one of the rifts between Gregorios and Meryem during the short life they had shared together. In his opinion, many of their wealthy clients weren’t deserving of new lives. First-life abuses were usually compounded in later lives.

  Those who lived long enough and accrued enough wealth for multiple lives sometimes purchased one life too many, suffering mental breakdown as the repeated soul transfers led to soul fragmentation. The resulting broken minds or fractured spirits often led to atrocities that Gregorios’s team had been assigned to deal with. Jack the Ripper was one example, as were several of the more notorious mass murderers.

  Over time he’d become more and more dissatisfied with the system, but Meryem wouldn’t agree with him that things should change. She was proud of her work. It was the way of the world and she would not be ashamed of it.

  “Very well,” Meryem said, drawing him back to the present. “Be stubborn. It was always one of your qualities I found most aggravating. And most alluring.”

  He waited.

  She took a big bite out of a huge strawberry, caressing the fruit with her full lips before giving him a wide smile.

  “If you want Eirene, you need to go to Rome.”

  Gregorios’s heart sank. He’d been afraid of that.

  He rose. “Thanks.”

  “You owe me,” she said as she also stood. She slid one finger down his cheek and leaned closer. “I always collect.”

  He pulled away. “Good-bye, Meryem.”

  “Don’t dawdle, Gregorios,” she called after him as he strode for the exit. “I don’t know the details, but I doubt Eirene will enjoy what they have planned for her. Lab rats rarely do.”