The area they were driving through was scenic to say the least. The car made its way down an incredibly steep hill, hair pin turns hiding the sight of the bay on their right while on the left the steep hillside hid houses perched precariously over the view. The road itself was narrow, almost too narrow for the flow of traffic and a couple of times Illya thought they might be sideswiped by an oncoming car. Napoleon had the same thoughts as they made their way around yet another narrow turn to see the bay spread in its glory before them. The steep incline gave way to the flat of bayside driving and they had to admit the area was stunning. The water, merely ten feet from the car, lapped at the shoreline breakwater with an island in the distance. The tide was in, hiding what had to be a wonderful beach expanse, but even so, it was a beautiful area. There was a stop sign that had them halting for no apparent reason, except that it allowed foot traffic into the small pier restaurant on their right. The restaurant apparently was a popular one from the amount of cars in the parking area on the left. There was a block of apartments just past the restaurant then homes situated on the same side of the street told the story of early fishing cottages and beach front get-a-ways.

“Reminds me of the Cape.” Napoleon muttered as they crept along the road. Illya contented himself with watching the number of people who seemed to be intent on punishing their bodies by jogging along the bay side boardwalk. He could see the curve of beach at the end of the boardwalk, leading toward the rounded tip of the landmass that was Federal Way. He could also make out homes along this stretch of beach, some with direct access, others with stairs leading down the rocky expanse. There were several small floating docks in the water, a few held cormorants worshipping the sun as it peeked between clouds. He recognized their strange stance from his days in the Navy, a smile crossing his face at the odd sight. As the car powered its way around one more sharp turn, this one leading away from the water, it began another steep climb. They had only gone a short distance when the driver turned sharply to his right onto another street. The car slowed as they realized they were nearing their destination. Ruling out the homes on the left, since it was obvious none of them had beach access, their attention was firmly riveted on the homes on the right. The first few they dismissed as too far from the water, but as they passed a couple of blocks, it became apparent that the house they were looking for was not to be easily found.

The driver slowed even further as they neared the final curve of the street. There was a stand of trees blocking the view of a driveway that for all intents and purposes led straight down, with a small home situated on it’s edge. From the address of the smaller beach home, they knew that the one they sought was the one at the end of the drive. Their driver, without being told, parked the car, letting it idle as Illya looked at the shaded and shadowy driveway.**yes a limo would make it down this driveway. Seamus often had guests limo-ed in to the house. What a sight that was! Not to mention his Ferrari powering out of this drive! Silly git.** The car stopped at the end of the long drive, halting in front of a bank of garage doors. There was a walkway leading around the side of the building, obviously to the “front door”. A van, a contractor’s from the lettering on the side, was parked to the side, so that it didn’t block the garage. There was a row of pines providing some semblance of privacy and as they got out of the car, the smell of sea water mixed with the smell of pine into a pleasant aroma. **thank god, I didn’t try to describe the stink of the algae bloom… only bad thing about living on the beach.** They could hear the sound of the surf rolling against the rocky beach and the occasional cry of a gull riding the thermals.

“Very nice.” Napoleon said softly taking a deep breath. He pulled his shades out of his breast pocket and slipped them on, hiding his eyes. Then with a quirk of his head, indicated that they should follow the path. Illya led the way, taking in the home they were walking up to. There really wasn’t much to see at this point, just the side of the garage and as they turned the corner, the path led downward a bit. The garage segued into the house as the cliff became apparent, the house it seemed was much larger than he had anticipated from the bay side photo. The front door, was actually located on the second story, the first falling at the beach level. For a total of three stories. The walkway ended at a cut glass door with an odd design etched into it. At first he couldn’t make it out, but as he looked at it, a dragon entwined in a pentagram became clear. Standing in front of the door, he felt the first pangs of uncertainty take hold and he hesitated. Napoleon, understanding his partner as he always did laid a hand on his shoulder in silent support.

“It’s not too late, tovarich.” He whispered, meaning they could leave and no one would ever know they had come. Or, Illya thought, it’s not too late for hope. He raised his hand and rang the doorbell…

“Ah, don’t ya just hate those?” Gem dealt another hand. They played in silence a bit longer. He started to say something when the peal of the doorbell interrupted them. He looked at Keeper, question in his eyes. “You expecting anyone else?” “Nope.”

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On to Chapter Eleven