Bloodlines
by Christopher M. Flint

	Gabriel was taking a break from the hard training regiment Grace had him on.  It was just getting to be a little too much.  It had only been nine months since Von Glower's death, and he was still upset over his death.  He never expected it to be him.  Von Zell, yes, and he also thought it might be Herr Preiss, but he was dead wrong on that count.  Von Glower was the last person he'd suspect.  It wouldn't have been so hard on him, except that Gabriel found the letter Von Glower had sent to him at Schloss Ritter, and he was furious that Grace didn't trust him enough to do the right thing.  He was just hoping for something to do that would take him away from her for a time.
	Grace was downstairs, as usual, working on Sidney, a walking crime lab/library.  A complete waste.  That's what Gerde and Grace were for.  He didn't have any use for such stuff, plus the program scared him a bit.  He just figured he'd humor her, and avoid getting attacked by Grace over his apparent lack of commitment.  History was Grace's department, not his.  He was a man of action, not some simple bookworm like her.  Still, she had saved his hide during the last case, so he did owe her one at that.
	He had just completed his second Blake Backlash novel, The Brutal Beast, a truly magnificent work, he thought.  He only wished Grace was more like Fujitsu than the headstrong woman he knew.  But then again, that was part of her appeal.
	Sales from his first novel had shot through the roof, and St. George's Rare Books was doing phenomenally.  Even without Grace there to keep an eye on things, business was blooming.  The Voodoo Murders had finally reached number one on the New York Times bestseller list, and his fans were clamoring for the second book already.  Well, next week they'd get their wish, and Gabriel would be able to afford the renovations on Schloss Ritter.  
	It was amazing how quickly Grace had fallen in love with the castle after his last case, despite its drafty rooms and the many repairmen who came to work on the castle.  With any luck the castle would be finished in a year or two, good as new.   Meanwhile, Grace had also made a friend on the Internet, some monk from India, she had said.  He didn't pay it much mind.  But he did get annoyed at how Grace kept on insisting he go there for some training.  He would just smile and say, "Well, why don't you go, then?  It'd be the perfect vacation for you.  And you seem to want to go there more than I."  Then she would get angry, and storm out of the room.
	He was itching to go find out more about the Shattenjagers, and Grace's translation of the Ritter journals in the castle library had peaked his interest.  He especially enjoyed reading Wolfgang's.  He talked so well about his grandfather, and Gabriel felt a connection to the man whom he never really meet.  It really was a shame that he was the last of the line.  He felt sad about the death of Wolfgang's infant son and his wife the year after.  He often wondered what the boy would have been like if he had grown up.  It was truly a tragedy.
	Gabriel was still close to Mosely, and talked to him often.  Mosely was involved in some case involving a kidnapping, some local girl that Gran new.  Imagine, Mosely hard at work, or was it hardly working?  His Gran was fit as a fiddle but missed Gabriel being so close to her.  But that could not be helped. 
	Feeling a little bored, and uninterested in Grace's training schedule, he decided to inspect the mail, hoping to find something to do.  There was a letter to Grace from her parents, one from her brother, and another postcard from that monk in India.  "Man, Grace is getting as crazy as he is," he said to himself.  "What's next, a video of their ashram?"
	He chunked her mail down on a small table and looked on.  There was a letter from Gran, which he sat down to read later, a letter from Herr Ubergrau, probably about how well the Ritter estate was holding up.  Nothing interesting there.  Below there was a letter from the Smiths, probably inquiring his recovery from the werewolf curse, and then a small package addressed to him with no return address.  "Pretty strange, but just a part of the job," Gabriel thought.  Inside were several old books.  Gabriel took them out of the package and something fell on the floor with a clash.
	"What the ..." Gabriel yelled.  A bit of deja-vu floated over him.  His failed attempt on another Blake Backlash novel struck him as an odd coincidence.  He looked down at his feet and there was a golden locket that was quite old, yet well-kept.  The clasp that closed an inner chamber had opened, and inside was a picture of Wolfgang on one side, and the other had a picture of a small boy.  He thought it was a picture of Wolfgang as a child, as it did bare a certain resemblance.   It was odd to him that he had been sent a locket with Great-Uncle Wolfgang's picture in it.  He wondered where on earth it had come from.
	"Grace, Gerde!  Come here! "  As Gabriel shouted, Grace and Gerde rushed into the room to see Gabriel holding an old locket in his hand and an open package with several books inside.  "Do either one of you know about this?"
	Grace snatched up the locket and looked at the picture inside.  "Wolfgang?  Where did you get this, Gabe?"
	Gerde interceded.  "Let me take a look. "  Gerde took the locket from Grace and stared at a picture of Wolfgang, younger than when she first met him.  "Gabriel, where did you get this?  This was a present Wolfgang gave his wife after they were married."
	"It was in this envelope, addressed to me," he calmly said.  It was strange that Gerde knew that much about Wolfgang, but then again, they were close.  He handed the outer wrappings of the package to Gerde, and handed the books to Grace.
	Gerde examined the envelope like it held some secret clue to its identity.  There wasn't a single mark on it, save a small stamp from Spain, postmarked from Madrid.  Ordinary enough.  There just wasn't much to go on.  Not even a fingerprint.  And no return address.