"So you're the class two Everett has been talking about." Rhea stilled when she heard the voice off to her left. As she turned to face the speaker, a man stepped out of a shadowed doorway. "You must be Nelson. I was told you would meet me here." Not by the flinch of a lash did Rhea betray any sign of nervousness. She hoisted the duffel bag over her shoulder. None of her stuff was bugged either conventionally or magically. No doubt they had precautions against those kinds of things, and Rhea hadn't wanted to trigger any suspicion. "Nelson is elsewhere." The first thing she noticed when the man stepped closer was the coal black hair. In the dim light it was about the only thing distinguishable about the guy, other than the fact he was about three inches taller than Rhea. Light. The one mental word illuminated the immediate area. For a moment, she could see as clearly as she would have been able to in daylight. A dark green gaze traveled over Rhea, an amused smile on the man's lips. He was conservatively dressed in a gray shirt, black pants tucked into black boots. There were no obvious signs of his practitioner status. "Who the hell are you?" "You can call me Atlantis." The smile quirked a bit wider as he stilled in front of her. Atlantis? Who the hell was Atlantis? Rhea had memorized the entire known hierarchy of underground practitioners and hadn't come across the name. However, the Federal Bureau of Magic had little to no information on any of the underground leaders.