experimenting with had gone wrong."

experimenting with had gone wrong."

"Only Loomis has cops watching the house."

"Yeah, parked right out front, where everybody in the world can see them," Megan said with contempt.

"And I was starting to feel some respect for that man." She shook her head. "By now, they must know

that Loomis figured it out by following my lead. They know we're onto them, as well. So tonight's going

to be the night. They'll try to hit, then run. And right here, downtown, is where they're going to do it. Bet

on it."

"Weare betting on it," said Stanley. "I just hope you're right on this one, Megan."

"I know what I'm doing," she snapped.

Rosowitz and Stanley exchanged uncertain looks.

Wulfgar had been shocked by what he had encountered at the house on Declovina Street. After all these

centuries,he was still alive. Gorlois. The last surviving member of the Council of the White. The only one

who had not taken part in the spell that had confined them, who had retained his corporeal form so that

he could place the accursed runestones in their location above the pit, then seal the underground chamber

it was in for thousands of years behind tons of fallen rock. But then, Wulfgar thought, he should have

anticipated the possibility of Gorlois still being alive after all that time. He was, after all, a member of the

Council. Only the most powerful of the self-styled "white mages" had been part of the Council and they

would not have fallen as easily to the humans as did their weaker counterparts.

Still, Gorlois must have fallen at some point, because in a sense, he was no longer physically alive. His

spirit had left its body to reside within the boy. There was no way of knowing how many hosts Gorlois

had possessed over the years, but the fact was that his spirit had survived and Wulfgar could not

understand how he could have sensed the presence of Ambrosius in the boy and not Gorlois. Two of

them! Both of them possessing one body! Three spirit entities in one physical being! The boy was no

mere boy, Wulfgar had known that, but he was much more than he had thought he was. With the

combined powers of Gorlois and the half-breed mage within him, he had to be incredibly strong.

Wulfgar had thought that he had killed him, and heshould have killed him, that blast was strong enough

to burn a hole clear through him. Yet, the sight of that hellish white glow emanating from him, burning

brighter and brighter, could have only meant one thing. A spirit transmogrification. He had sensed the

presence of his ancient enemy then. Gorlois, a true immortal, a mage, a member of the Council, had

released the full strength of his life force into the dying body and soul of the boy. Wulfgar had known that

if he had remained there one moment longer, he would have found himself facing not only the avatars,

who were racing to the scene, but the transmogrified being who was being born before his very eyes

from the spirits that had possessed the boy. He was not about to face it. He wasn't ready.

He had returned to his apartment, stunned and furious with himself for not having anticipated what had

happened. Briefly, he had considered leaving Santa Fe at once, but though there was much to argue for