Chapter 1: Downtown Philadelphia

The large black car rumbled to a stop at the curb. It was early spring in Center City, Philadelphia. Traffic bypassed the car and commuters whirled around the vehicle as the driver opened the back door. I quickly got out of the back door on the streetside, dodging passing cars with a quick in and out. At the curb I buttoned my jacket and straightened my tie. The driver opened the curbside door for Rayven.

The brunette woman was stunning. Her hair hung to the small of her back. Though her eyes were covered her face was framed with long silvery earrings. Her plump lips glistened with the color of rubies. She seemed to project a field of confidence and power, naturally attracting the eyes of interested parties and casual observers.

Rayven was wearing a black and white houndstooth outfit: shorts and a cropped jacket. There was a lacy black demibra under the jacket, leaving plenty of skin exposed. Her eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses and she clutched a small purse. The outfit was sexy and modern yet professional. Rayven had the body to pull the look off. Her long legs were emphasized by black stiletto heels She looked like a model or a celebrity.

I hurried ahead of Rayven, opening the door of the glass and steel office tower we were entering. She smiled at me weakly as she pushed her sunglasses up. I could tell she was nervous despite the aura of confidence she was projecting. I glanced around quickly. Several passing pedestrians had taken notice; Rayven could attract a great deal of attention when she wanted too.

We moved across the marbled lobby, Rayven’s heels clicking distinctively, and stopped at a bank of elevators. Rayven took off her sunglasses and put them in her purse.

“I’m so nervous Michael,” she said to me softly.

“Don’t be Rayven.” I said. “I’ve got it covered.” I patted the small binder of documents I was carrying. “We want Reynolds and Stevenson ... their office should be on the 55th floor.”

Rayven hit the elevator button. We waited. She pushed her hair back and smiled at a passing gentleman in a business suit who made no effort to hide his glance at her. A moment later the elevator opened and a trio of business people got out. We headed upward with the car to ourselves.

“I know change is hard Rayven but our Coven needs to take a bit more proactive stance when it comes to finances. Thriza had things set up for stability but we have to be a little bit more aggressive, especially if we want to remodel Nebelgutt.”

“I know Michael,” she said. “These people were recommended?”

I gently ran my hand down Rayven’s back. “Yes,” I said. “By Callistra from the Cabal. Everything will be fine.”

Rayven smiled and sighed slightly. I could feel her calm down a bit with my touch. I fought the temptation to kiss her. The elevator doors snapped open on the 35th floor and the 46th and the 48th. Passengers joined us and left. We arrived at the top alone.

We couldn’t go any higher than the 55th floor. The entire level was taken up by the law firm of Reynolds and Stevenson. We were greeted immediately as the doors opened by an attractive blonde woman in a tan business suit.

“You must be Michael Renard and Rayven Rathmore,” she said, shaking our hands. “My name is Colette. Let me take you to Conference Room D. Mr. Reynolds will be with you momentarily. Please make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for anything to drink?”

“Yes coffee please,” I responded.

“Nothing for me thank you,” said Rayven.

Conference Room D was fairly impressive, not from the standpoint of the decorating, which was typical for a business meeting space, but from the panoramic view it offered of downtown Philadelphia. Rayven and I had both been to New York on separate occasions but Philadelphia was just as impressive in it’s own way. The city had a sense of history and seemed a bit calmer than NYC. We had just sat down when Colette arrived with my coffee and a smile.

Mr. Byron Reynolds arrived a moment later. He was everything one would expect from the partner of a prestigious law firm: distinguished and professional. His hair was a salt and pepper gray and he was wearing an impeccable suit with a vest. He smiled tightly as he shook our hands, introduced himself, and took a seat across from us with a folder of documents.

“It is a pleasure to meet both of you,” he began. “I trust your trip from New York state went well?”