Calling fire. Fire? It had to be some kind of a trick. God! She had a headache. “You’re playing some kind of sick and twisted game with me because you know about my mother. You saw the news articles or the TV show, and now you’re doing this for kicks.” Stefan shook his head. “This has nothing to do with your mother, Sarafina. Not directly, anyway. It’s not a game we’re playing here.” She swallowed hard against her dry throat and mouth, a result of the drugs, she was sure. “What’s going on? What do you want from me? What was that crap you pumped through my body?” “We want to help you realize your potential, Sarafina. Nothing dark or sinister. We simply want to tell you who you are. Like many of our kind, you’ve slipped through the cracks of your heritage.” Sarafina turned to face him. “What are you talking about? Tell me who I am? I know that already. Anyway, if you’re going to try and convert me to some cause, why not just ask me out for a nice cup of coffee? You have to resort to kidnapping?” “If we had asked you for coffee and revealed this truth, you would have caused quite a scene and probably called the police. That’s why we don’t do it that way.” He held out a hand. “We hope you’ll forgive the kidnapping, Sarafina, once all is revealed.” She shook her head. “I want to go home. I want my dog and I want—” “Data entry, Sarafina? No self-respecting fire witch would ever work in such a mundane field. What are you thinking? I can make your life so much more meaningful. I can provide a way for you to make lots of money so you can live the life you were meant to live.” The words fire and witch in the sentence made her vision dim. Her knees went weak and she caught herself on the back of a chair. “What did you say?” “Don’t pretend ignorance, Sarafina. Even if you don’t know, you know.” She studied him. “The only thing I know is that you’re crazy, as bat-shit crazy as my mother was.” Stefan smiled and took a step toward her.