The boardwalk along the waterfront was well lit, but few people were out and about at such a late hour. Regardless, Donavan kept to the shadows. The average person would not know him for what he was, but a slayer would easily sense his true nature. Donavan was one of the ancients. His power was considerable, and although there were no slayers that would pose any real threat to him, he preferred to avoid confrontation and keep a low profile. His eyes penetrated the darkness, searching for the one that had called him to the waterfront, but Cato was nowhere in sight. “Donavan.” The voice echoed in his head. “Up here brother.” He looked up to see Cato hovering about 50 feet in the air above him. Donavan glanced around to make sure that no one was paying attention. He then waved for Cato to join him. His brother’s descent from the sky was so fast that he doubted any onlookers would have noticed. Cato was opposite of his brothers in many ways. Where both Omar and Donavan looked the part of a vampire, Cato appeared far too timid to be an immortal.
