“Yeah?”

“Again, smaller scale than Corfu. It’s right off the patio deal, which is probably why they planted trees on either side of the grounds. They’d want some privacy. Do you care which bedroom?”

“Nope. Take your pick.”

“I will. I’m going to stow my gear.”

As he went out, Riley came in.

“You guys read my mind.” She walked over, slung an arm around Annika’s waist. “Starving. What are we having?”

“Sawyer is making pasta, and I’m making tomatoes and cheese with the oil and herbs. We’re going to eat, drink, and decompress.”

“I’m for it.”

“Your friend of a friend stocked the kitchen,” Sawyer told Riley.

“Yeah, we owe for that. Beer or wine?” To help her decide, she took a swig from Sawyer’s bottle, a sip from Annika’s glass. “Tough choice. It’s pasta, so I’m going for the wine. Bran and Sasha beat me to the master—but there’s two of them in there, so that’s fair.”

“Doyle and I are bunking down here. Two rooms and a full bath. It works.”

“Good enough. Annika, you get your choice of what’s left up there. Sasha and Bran will use whatever’s left over to set up her studio and the magick-works. Terraces up there, too. We won’t be able to walk to the beach from here, but we can take the funicular.”

“What is the funicular?” Annika asked.

“It’s like a train, but in the air. You pay, and you can ride it down to town, or closer to the beach, or—”

“I want to ride it! Can we ride it tomorrow?”

“Maybe. It’s a strong walk down to the shops in Anacapri and a steep hike back. And to get down to Capri town means a bus or cab or a serious hike. No cars in Anacapri. If we need one, I’ll find us a ride, and we’ll park it in Capri, but mostly we’re on foot or public trans. I’m going to do a quick check outside on security.”

“Doyle just did.” Sawyer slid spaghetti into the pot of boiling water.

Riley hesitated, glanced toward the door. Then shrugged. “No point in me walking in his footsteps.”

“We have a pool,” Annika told her.

“Yeah, I got that. And I might just try it out before I turn in. Table out there, right? Why don’t we eat outside?”

“I’m for it. Set us up.”

Riley poured herself some wine, lifted it to Sawyer. “I’m all over it.” She got another glass when Sasha came in with Bran. “Wine—it’ll put some color in your cheeks.”

“I’d love some wine. And food. Sawyer, Annika, you’re the best.”

“Italian beer? I’ll be happy for that.” Bran opened the refrigerator, got his own. “Doyle?”

“Our immortal’s stowing his gear.” Sawyer stirred the pasta as steam puffed. “We’re taking the two bedrooms down here.”

“That leaves you a choice upstairs, Annika.”

“Riley said you need a room for your painting and for Bran’s magicks. You should choose it. I’m happy with whatever is left.”

“If you really don’t mind, we could take the room across from ours. It’s the smaller of the two left, and big enough for what we’d need. And yours would face the sea. You’d rather wake and sleep with the sea.”

Touched, Annika moved to hug Sasha. “Thank you.”

“I’m across from you,” Riley told her. “I love me a sea view as much as the next guy—or mermaid—but there’s something to be said about looking out over a lemon grove.”

“And guarding the rear flank,” Bran added.

“And that. We’re eating outside. As soon as I find plates.”

She found them, as colorful as the cushions. With Sasha helping to set up, they went out as Annika meticulously added the herbs to her dish.

“Is this right? Did I do it the way I should?”

Sawyer glanced at her tray. “Looks perfect. I just need a few minutes to put the rest together.”

“But we need candles! And flowers.” Annika dashed out to hunt up what she considered a properly set table.

Sawyer tested the pasta, turned off the burner. “Sasha okay?”

“A little more shaken, apparently, than the rest of us. Food and rest should do the trick.” He looked over as Doyle came back in. “I’ve done a basic protection spell on the house and grounds, but will want to layer over that before we turn in for the night. She’ll find us, sooner or later, and she’ll be right pissed.”

“She’ll find us,” Sawyer agreed as he drained pasta. “It’ll be a lot tougher for her to find the Fire Star where and how you’ve hidden it.”

“Which says to me she’ll come harder for the next.” Doyle lifted his beer, drained it. “In her place? I’d decide I’d underestimated my enemy in the first round of things. Her pride would lead her to that conclusion. She’ll go harder, bloodier.”

“And it may be cannier,” Bran added. “Much of what she did was rage and violence. Whatever it cost us, it cost her more. She may, if wise, consider more strategy than force. We’ll need to prepare for that.”

“We need to eat.” Sawyer dumped the pasta into a bowl, tossed it with the butter and herbs he’d prepped. “And we need to sleep.”