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Monde in the French Quarter. They exchanged a quick hug and kiss on the cheek before sitting down at a secluded table, per Salena's request; she didn't think the other patrons needed to hear what she had to say.
    Heloise began with the formality of catching up with her old friend's granddaughter, and Salena followed along until the waiter left with their order for iced teas. Heloise was reminiscing about fun times with Gail, Salena's grandmother, when Salena interrupted her.
    "Heloise, I need your advice about something that happened Sunday night, something I can't explain. I was attacked—" she blushed at the word and looked away briefly before continuing; it's hard to refer to it as an attack when she had been enjoying herself, "—by a man when I was in a phone booth."
    Heloise almost choked on her sip of water, "Oh, my! Are you alright, dear? Did you report it to the police?"
    Salena, blushing again—and deciding to leave out the intimate parts—went on, "I'm okay. Nothing really happened except for this." She flipped over her wrist, so Heloise could examine the bite mark, but it was barely visible at all.
    Heloise peered closely at Salena's wrist, "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be seeing." Salena, feeling like a fool, cleared her throat and spoke softly, "He bit me."
    Heloise's face paled. "He bit you on the wrist?"
    Salena could only nod in response this time. The old woman placed a wrinkled hand over her heart. "The women in the news had bite marks on them. You're lucky to be alive, Salena."
    Salena nodded, "I know." But you wouldn't believe what I almost did with him. "I wonder if it is the same man."
    "Let me see your wrist again."
    Salena held out her wrist again, feeling like such an idiot about the entire experience.
    "I don't see a bite mark, though." Heloise peered at Salena over her reading glasses.
    "He did. After he kissed me first." She added the last part almost too quietly for Heloise to hear.
    "Something is really strange about these attacks. Let's go to my house and consult the tarot cards."
    Salena laid money on the table for the drinks, not even received yet, and followed Heloise the four miles to her cottage. Neither woman noticed the black wolf following them along the tree line.
     

Chapter 13
    Devin kept pace with the women; he'd been watching and following Salena all day. It had taken some time to locate her, but he'd finally found her scent when he flew, as a black hawk, over the French Quarter. She had been walking out of a voodoo shop, with a look of deep concern on her beautiful face, when he caught her scent. It was her unmistakable alluring fragrance of honeysuckle and lavender.
    At the café, he'd heard the woman address her as "Salena." What a pretty name. Noticing the talisman the old woman wore, he figured she must be a Gypsy. He'd overheard their entire conversation at the café; it was a good thing the wait staff hadn't noticed a black cat lying around in their pristine establishment. Now, perched on the windowsill of the Gypsy's cottage, he listened attentively. He wanted insight to all of this as well.
    As soon as the front door closed, Heloise bustled into the other room to get her deck of cards. Then she spread them out on the coffee table and told Salena to choose three. Salena did as she was instructed, although she was still not sure what she expected to accomplish here. She was looking for answers, though, regardless if they were logical or not.
    Heloise flipped the first card, which she reminded Salena, represents the past. "Death."
    Salena gasped at the word.
    "Don't worry child, it is not necessarily about you or anyone dying. Let's see what the second card is before we determine the meaning of the first." Heloise flipped the second card, "Fool," she said, looking back at the first. "Hmm, let's see the last card." Her withered hand flipped over the final card. "Tower." She looked at all three cards, then at Salena's concerned and curious face. "You must come to terms