Puerto Madero, Buenos Aires
11:55 pm

Heat shimmered above the pavement, even this late at night.

Hands deep in his pockets, Adam Turner kept his cheek tucked in and his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans as he walked down Boulevard 9 de Julio, unsavory company stalking past him with words on their lips in a language he barely knew. His steps were rushed and his grey eyes narrowed, one of his fingers tightly gripping his wand in case he were to need it –and Secrecy be damned. He couldn’t give a crap if he revealed the existence of his kind to muggles if it meant saving his own skin. Lips pursed, he stepped down an incline and continued to quickly move along, the bridge already in sight. He was early, but that was for the best: he couldn’t be certain she would turn up, and if she did he couldn’t be certain it would be alone. But he had a curious itch that had to be scratched, and he was willing to take the risk.

It had been a bit over a year now that Caspero Grumman had given Adam the order to keep tabs on the younger members of his family; a bit over a year since the Cursebreaker had asked the proverbial question that he witnessed on so many of his victim’s lips before they died and received a suspicious answer in return; a bit over a year since he’d been wondering who the hell Caspero had taken his orders from, considering the bloke was supposed to be the head of the Grumman family. A desire to protect his own skin had kept him from asking –until evidence had begun to crop up that his latest task had been handed to him from the very same family. Knowing what the hell was happening behind the curtains had become a need. Adam’s plan to meet with Melanthe was rather far fetched and complicated, but if he was about to ask the tough questions he needed to be as certain as he could be that they wouldn’t be overheard.

Monday might have been the day, but Puerto Madero was still bristling with activity tonight, lights flashing and people laughing, as the tall, white bridge came into view. Buenos Aires, for some strange reason, had seemed far enough –with the least possibility someone from the Grumman Clan other than Melanthe could follow. He was aware they had plenty of money and power, however, so Adam had apparated to a few other countries around the globe in an attempt to be even further certain he couldn’t be tracked. And yet, as his feet stepped onto the bridge, his heart thumped against his collar bone and a lack of uncertainty overcame him. The assassin stopped only when he reached the very middle, pressing into the side to glance out at the water and await the final five minutes until midnight to see if Melanthe would even come or if his efforts had been for nothing.