Drina hardly no ced the rhythmic tap of her heels as she descended the stairs from the plane. Her a en on was shi ing from the winter-dead trees surrounding the private airstrip to the man leaning against the back of a small golf cart on the edge of the tarmac. With dark hair and skin and a black leather coat, he could have been mistaken for a shadow if it weren't for his glowing gold-black eyes. They peered at her, steady and cold from between his black wool hat and scarf, and he remained u erly mo onless un l she stepped down onto the paved runway. Only then did he move, straightening and walking forward to meet her. Despite the cold, Drina forced a smile. A gree ng was trembling on her lips, but died there when he took the small bag she carried and turned wordlessly away. The abrupt ac on brought her up short, and she watched blankly as the man walked away with her luggage. When he slid behind the wheel of the small, open cart and dropped her bag on the front passenger seat, she managed to shake herself out of her surprise and move forward, but couldn't resist mu ering, "Hello, you must be Drina Argenis. Such a pleasure to meet you. Please, allow me to take your luggage for you. And here, please take a seat so I can get you to the enforcer