Notes: This story takes place after the events in Italian Masquerade. The first chapter contains the essentials of the backstory for new readers. I wrote a short summary of the status of the key players at the beginning of the story for our blog, Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation. The post is called "Destination: A Witch in Venice." See the notes at the end of the chapter for more information.

Chapter 1: Ancient Sword

New Haven, Connecticut. New Year's Eve 2006.

"Who needs Venice?" Dean scanned the group sitting at the table as if challenging them to contradict him. "We're surrounded by comic strips, nonstop beer, pizza, and chicken wings." He gave a nod to Chloe. "I hope you noted I named all the key food groups. What better way to ring in 2006!"

Sam smiled ruefully at Maia. She'd probably disagree, but she'd gone along with Chloe's suggestion to party at Shazam Karaoke in New Haven. The club must have been decorated with Dean in mind. Large posters of superheroes were on the walls with Batman-styled word bubbles on the ceiling.

Dean was the only one of the group who'd performed, belting out rock classics till he was booted off by yells for songs by the Backstreet Boys. At midnight, they'd taken their beer outside to watch the fireworks over the West River.

This was the girls' treat with Chloe and Maia insisting on picking up the tab for the party. Chloe's contract in New York City had ended earlier in the month. She'd landed a technical writing job back in New Haven which was also home to Sam's girlfriend Maia. Girlfriend . . . That word still took getting used to.

After Jessica died, Sam didn't think he'd ever call another woman his girlfriend. But then what were the odds he'd be dating a doctoral candidate at Yale? If you factored in the probability that the woman would be distantly related to a woman Dean was smitten with, the resulting number was astronomically remote, and yet it was true. Sam used to think his chance of finding lasting happiness with a woman was nil as long as he was a hunter. But Maia and Chloe were proving to him and Dean that the possibility wasn't as slim as they'd thought.

In the meantime, he was enjoying the moment. Maia had offered Chloe the use of her second bedroom for the duration of her contract, and that meant both he and Dean had a place to stay as well.

"I'm much happier to have you here too," Chloe agreed, "but how could you have turned down Mozzie's offer?" She sighed longingly. "Free airfare to Venice has to be a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I was surprised to hear Mozzie and Janet were in Venice," Maia said, "but then I'm not sure what he does for a living."

"Neither am I," Sam said, although he'd wager most of it was illegal.

"Janet's helping a fellow designer with costumes for the carnival season," Chloe explained. "She told me that Neal, Sara, and the Burkes are also in Venice for New Year's. Janet mentioned that there was a case they were working on and they were able to combine it with a vacation."

"Mozzie called a couple of days ago," Dean said. "Neal found another painting which appears to show the witch from Connecticut, Alcy Lancaster. This time it was painted by a nineteenth-century artist. Neal's now found Alcy in paintings from three different centuries."

Maia clasped Sam's hand under the table. "More confirmation that Alcy's another name for Astrena. If that goddess is in Venice, I'm glad you didn't go."

"We're a long, long way from taking off to Italy," Dean confirmed. "Just because Alcy liked Venice centuries ago doesn't mean she's a fan now."

"But you can't dismiss the possibility," Chloe argued. "No one's seen her in the States since her house was destroyed."

"True," he admitted, "but we shouldn't jump the gun on equating Alcy with Astrena. Instead of being the goddess, she could be one of her sicko sisters."

"From what we've read, the sisters are just as evil," Maia said. "Psychically feeding off artists and musicians." She shuddered. "My point stands. If she's in Venice, I'm glad you're not."

Sam didn't miss the quick glance Dean gave him. Maia had little understanding of the life he and Dean led on the road. If it wasn't Alcy, it'd be some other demon or monster. And they'd likely be a lot bloodier.

"In any case, there's no need for us to be in Venice," Dean said. "That Italian hunter we've been corresponding with—Paolo Ricci—has a lead on the sword of Saint Mercurius. He's in Venice to check up on the report. I gave Mozzie his name. In this type of situation, it's always better to let the local hunters handle it."

And spare Dean the need of flying. Sam only gave a trace of a smile to show his brother he knew full well the real reason Dean didn't want to go to Venice. Dean would rather deal with a basement full of vampires than get on an airplane, and he probably thought they were a helluva lot less dangerous. Sam could have easily argued the point. An ancient hunter claimed that the sword of Saint Mercurius was capable of killing Astrena's sisters and possibly damaging the goddess herself. If they could find it, they'd have a fighting chance. There hadn't been any recent reports of the goddess and her sisters, but Sam had the uneasy feeling they were only experiencing a temporary lull.

"I'm glad there's not an immediate need," Chloe said, "because it will give us more of a chance to work on our latest essence. This one's a modification of the oil I made to keep vampires from being able to smell you. We found a recipe in Maia's grimoire which we think will repel hexes."

"But there are several issues with it," Maia warned. "The effect doesn't last very long—only about thirty minutes. And we've only been able to do limited testing on it."

Dean took a slow breath. "Do I want to know what kind of spells you've been using to conduct your experiments?"

Chloe probably meant her smile to be reassuring but she looked too nervous for it to be effective. "You remember when you confronted Alcy in the witch house that she was able to slam you against the wall?"

Dean's eyebrows hit his hairline. "And you can do that now?"

"Think of it this way," she pleaded. "It's much more effective than pepper spray. Now you don't have to worry about us being attacked. Besides, we don't give you grief about the arsenal you carry in your trunk. You should consider our herbs and potions to be equivalent, and ours are less deadly."

"Don't mind Dean," Sam said. "He's just grumpy he can't do it." Sam ignored the sharp kick to his shin. "Does the oil prevent the spell from working?"

"It did in our first trial," Maia said, "but we need to do more testing, and even then we won't know if it's effective against a goddess."

"But we may be able to help on that sword," Chloe said. "If you can get a rough location we could make a potion which will help pinpoint it."

"The sword is Coptic," Maia said, turning to Chloe. "I bet if we used essence of Greek crocus—"

"—and added that peach-colored orchid you were showing me."

"Plus a little angelica . . ."

The women quickly lost Sam in their flower power chatter, but if the results were effective, a trip might be in the cards after all.

Gritti Palace, Venice. New Year's Day.

Mozzie set down his Bellini cocktail. "If only you'd agree to stay longer in Venice, you'd get to see witches."

"And why would I possibly want to do that?" Peter demanded. "Haven't we had enough trouble with witches already?"

Neal smiled. He knew what Mozzie was referencing. They were enjoying what would probably be a final round of drinks at the Longhi Bar of the Gritti Palace. Neal would miss the opulent splendor of the hotel. The surroundings made him feel like he'd been transported to a private club in a doge's mansion.

The fantasy was about to end. Tomorrow morning Sara would fly back to London. He and the Burkes would return to New York. Henry and Eric would continue on to India for a week's vacation.

Their New Year's celebration had been a gift from Mozzie. He'd provided the initial clues about a Mafia crime lord in the hopes an original Dante manuscript would be found in his collection of stolen artworks. And although the Dante turned out to be a fourteenth-century copy, the remarkable illustrations and high quality of the manuscript made it extremely valuable. Also discovered were several works of Italian masters, including a Caravaggio altarpiece. The finder's fees meant that Mozzie had profited handsomely with more than enough to finance their end-of-the-year revelries even after donating most of the proceeds to the Vatican Library.

"You might enjoy these witches, Peter," Neal said. "They'll be rowing on the canals."

"Witch gondolas?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Not quite, Suit, but close," Mozzie said. "On the feast of the Epiphany, men disguise themselves as witches to row in a regatta."

"Why witches?" Peter asked. "Don't tell me there are demonic forces at work."

"These are good witches," Neal assured him. "In Italian folklore, an old woman known as the Befana brings gifts to kids on Epiphany Eve. She flies in on a broom and drops the gifts through the chimney. Sound familiar?"

"Just a little," Peter said, chuckling. "When will the regatta be held?"

"On January 6," Mozzie said. "That's only a few days away. I'm sure we could find something to do till then. Perhaps whatever Signora Gallini wants to discuss will persuade you to stay." His eyes drifted to the ceiling. "Or there may be some other noble endeavor."

Peter had received a call from their contact in the Carabinieri that she'd like to meet with them. She offered to come by the hotel to minimize any interference with their vacation. The others were upstairs dressing for dinner. Mozzie had offered to keep Neal and Peter company while they waited. That he had an ulterior motive came as no surprise.

Peter frowned at Mozzie, indicating he was fully aware of what he was attempting to promote. "You don't need us to look for the sword of Saint Mercurius. Don't you have the name of that Italian hunter Dean and Sam were corresponding with? I'm sure he'd be thrilled to have your help."

"Claudia's here," Neal advised in a low voice and stood up to greet her.

Mozzie hastily gathered his drink. "Ciao for now," he murmured and scurried off to a back corner.

Although Mozzie had filled out the requisite paperwork for the finder's fee under his alias of Dante Haversham, he hadn't met Claudia. Evidently he saw no reason to step into the limelight now.

They'd speculated about the motive of her call on the way back to the hotel. Neal's best guess was that it had to do with the identity fraud cases. The last time they'd seen her, they'd been in Florence. She'd mentioned in parting that she was coming to Venice to work on the problem. They'd faced a similar rash recently in New York City. Hopefully the outbreak wasn't being caused by vampire hackers as theirs had been.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

"I'm sorry to intrude on your holiday," Claudia said, shaking hands with them.

"Our sting bumped into your Christmas leave," Peter said. "I hope we can be equally helpful." Peter knew Claudia from their joint work on the Interpol art crimes task force. He'd been impressed by her skill in handling the raid at the Mafia crime lord's estate. Claudia wouldn't have called unless it was something urgent. She knew they were leaving the next day.

"Would you like an espresso or something else to drink?" Neal asked.

"Espresso, grazie."

"Prego." Neal beckoned for the waiter.

He and Peter were also drinking coffee. Peter wanted to hold off on any alcohol until he knew why Claudia wanted to see them. "Did something come up regarding the case?" he asked.

"Yes, but not the one you worked on with me. There was a murder a couple of nights ago, and the uniqueness of the crime led me to think of you." She pulled out a folder and notepad from her portfolio. The folder she left closed on the cocktail table.

Neal eyed the folder speculatively. He must be itching to open it. Peter knew he was. Normally they weren't called upon to consult on murders.

She waited till the coffee arrived before speaking about the case. "The murder victim was an artist. Friends told us he'd been in poor health over the past few months, suffering from insomnia, fatigue, and weight loss." She shrugged. "Artists often have a difficult time earning a decent wage. The symptoms are nothing unusual."

"Meaning the way he died was?" Peter prompted, giving Neal a quick look. The symptoms sounded similar to what Neal had experienced when he was psychically linked to Astrena.

Claudia nodded. "His exsanguinated body was found in a back alley. A scorpion had been stamped onto his forehead." She nodded to the folder. "That contains photographs of the victim."

Peter examined the evidence. The scorpion stamp was small but as precise as a tattoo. The jagged neck wounds were consistent with those he'd seen on a corpse in New Jersey last summer. He passed the folder to Neal, who only took a quick look before handing it back.

"This is not the first case of exsanguination we've discovered," Claudia added. "There have been three other similar murders over the past month. My superiors refuse to consider the possibility of vampires. They believe some sick individual or possibly a gang is using the technique to incite terror among the populace. For that reason, we haven't released any details to the press."

"But you disagree with your boss?" Neal prompted.

"All possibilities need to be considered," she hedged. "I researched other cases and discovered that a few exsanguinated corpses had been recovered last summer in the northeastern states. Peter, your name was attached to one of the reports. Is there anything you can share that might help my investigation?"

Like tell you vampires are real? Even if he told her what he knew, that didn't necessarily mean vampires were roaming the canals of Venice.

"Were the other victims in Venice also artists?" Neal asked, providing time for Peter to decide how to respond.

"One was. The other was a violinist who played in a chamber orchestra."

Neal tilted his head toward Peter, and he didn't need telepathy to read his consultant's mind. They couldn't remain silent. "We became involved with a few cases over the past several months which introduced us to a segment of the world we hadn't known existed," Peter said, proceeding cautiously. Based on her reaction, he'd decide how much to reveal. "I'd never believed in the existence of vampires, or witches for that matter, but I've been forced to change my opinion."

She sat back in the club chair and nodded. "I knew I was right to come to you. I'm also aware they aren't mere myths. My cousin Paolo educated me."

"Does he by any chance hunt them?" Neal asked, leaning forward.

She gave him a startled look. "How did you know?"

"We have a couple of friends who are hunters."

"I recently discovered that Paolo was one as well." At Neal's questioning look, she explained, "He died two weeks ago."

When they expressed their sympathy, she added, "Paolo told me about the nature of his work shortly before his death."

Neal pulled out his cell phone and texted a message. Looking up, he said, "I took the liberty of inviting an associate of ours to join the discussion. He has information relevant to your investigation."

And he thought Mozzie would divulge it in person? Evidently their "associate" needed additional persuasion, as Neal was forced to walk over and escort him. Peter could see Neal murmur something in his ear. Whatever he said must have done the trick because Mozzie seemed to relax.

"Claudia, this is Dante Haversham," Neal said, introducing their shadow-skulker.

Her face brightened. "You're the one who provided us the tips about the art!"

Mozzie nodded deprecatorily. "I keep a low profile because of the nature of my job. Hunting monsters is not understood by the general public."

Her eyes widened. "You're a hunter, too?"

"Advisor to hunters," he corrected. "I've been trying to contact Paolo Ricci. I understand he was your cousin?"

"Yes, the cause of death was attributed to cardiac arrest, but he had no heart problems and was in excellent health. I'm convinced it was murder."

"Allow me to express my condolences on your loss. Two hunters in the States have been corresponding with your cousin about the sword of Saint Mercurius. Are you by any chance familiar with it?"

Not only had she heard of it, but she was also aware of Astrena, the Greek goddess who fed off the life force of artists and musicians. Suddenly Peter's task was much easier.

"There's a person we've been looking for by the name of Alcy Lancaster," Peter explained. "At a minimum, she's a witch. There's some evidence indicating she may be Astrena herself. Or she could be one of the goddess's sisters. The physical symptoms of the deceased artist resemble those of someone they've been feeding off of." Peter didn't mention Neal had been one of the victims. There was no need to refer to his personal involvement. "The sword of Saint Mercurius reportedly has the ability to kill the sisters. Its effect on Astrena is unknown."

"We believe Alcy has a connection to Venice," Neal added. "She apparently was the model for Venetian artists painting in the 16th, 17th, and 19th centuries, including Titian. She disappeared from a town in Connecticut in May. She may have relocated here."

"She also has a connection to scorpions," Peter said. The memories of that night when he and Neal were trapped in her house were as vivid as if they'd happened only a few days ago. "It's a small detail but, in view of the similarity of the cases, worth mentioning. Neal and I were trapped in her house. We witnessed the power she has to paralyze her victims. She was wearing a Victorian gown when we saw her. The bodice had a lace filigree of scorpions."

"Not only that," Neal said, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward. "The scorpions had red-crystals dangling from their stingers. When she threatened me, she mocked me for having entered a scorpion's nest."

Claudia's face grew even more troubled as she listened to their account. "How certain are you that she's the same person depicted in the paintings you mentioned?"

"I have the most confidence about the Titian," Neal said. "In Alcy's house, there was a collection of artist portraits. Unfortunately they were all destroyed when the house burnt to the ground. One of the paintings appeared to be a self-portrait of Titian. It closely resembled a portrait I'd seen in a museum but in this one, Titian wore a pendant that had a small scorpion dangling from it. We believe those portraits were of Alcy's victims."

"And you suspect she uses vampires to collect blood for her to select future victims?"

"Not just for that," Peter said. "We unearthed an identity fraud ring run by vampires in Manhattan last month. A demon by the name of Crowley, who is a known associate of Astrena's, was in Alcy's house. He was identified as having run a similar ring in West Virginia. He's now disappeared from the States along with Alcy. You'd mentioned that you were here in Venice on an identity fraud case. You could be facing the same sort of vampire hackers."

Claudia jotted a note on her notepad. "I read the case report about the ring in Manhattan. There was no mention of vampires."

"I was under orders to scrub any references," Peter admitted. "Our situation is not that different from yours. Only the members of my team know the truth."

"It sounds like I should request that your entire team come over. Human criminals I can deal with, but vampires?" She shook her head. "I don't know the first thing about how to tackle this."

Mozzie cleared his throat. "If you'll permit me, I may be able to recruit two American hunters to help."

"Thank you, but I doubt I could afford them. Peter and Neal are members of the art crimes task force. For them I can secure permission"—she glanced around the bar—"as long as you don't mind staying in more modest accommodations."

"Assuming I could bring them over, would you be able to take care of their expenses in Venice?" Mozzie asked, looking at her expectantly.

She hesitated then relaxed into a small smile. "I have a friend who runs a pensione. We could probably arrange something."

Was Mozzie now Dean and Sam's agent? Peter half-expected for him to pull out a business card. Claudia didn't know what she was in for. But Peter still hadn't decided how he'd respond.

Faced with the prospect of vampires in town, his initial reaction was to depart on the first plane out of Venice. Neal had already been victimized once. They'd been away from the Bureau for a week. Granted they'd been working a case, and Jones could handle White Collar in their absence, but Peter missed his home. He missed Satchmo. Attempting to run down Alcy, assuming she was indeed present, could take weeks or months. They couldn't stay here indefinitely.

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

"How long do you plan to stay?" Sara asked, pulling out more clothes from the armoire and dumping them on the bed.

"Probably only a couple of days," Neal said. "The Italians had already put in a request for me and Peter to present a workshop on museum security. This provides an excellent opportunity. We scheduled it for next Wednesday."

"Is this the same workshop you gave in London? The one where you train agents to think like thieves?"

Neal nodded. "I thought the Da Vinci that we used for the previous case would make a good example. I didn't steal it, but the Mafia believed I had. How would the Carabinieri go about lifting it from the museum in Parma? If I'm lucky, they may provide some new solutions for my repertoire."

Sara laughed. "Don't let crooks hear about that enhanced expertise. Your reputation is sufficiently golden as it is." She was proud of herself for not mentioning that Neal was already enough of a target. He was no different than many others whose net worth or skills drew the notice of undesirables. Why was it so much harder to be at peace with Neal's situation than if he'd been a famous celebrity?

"Would you like me to fold your blouses?" he asked.

"Please." Sara had been lecturing herself ever since she heard the news to avoid making waves about his plans. She refused to be a clinging girlfriend who fell apart every time he had a dangerous assignment. Neal was being open about why he was staying. She wouldn't allow herself to make him regret the decision.

After meeting with Claudia, he came upstairs to tell her the news. Peter and Mozzie were probably doing the same with Elizabeth and Janet. By the time they'd have dinner, only Henry and Eric would need to be informed. The way Neal explained it, the case sounded safe enough. They'd stay till Dean and Sam arrived. Mozzie had contacted "a friend of a friend" to make the arrangements for the hunters' flight. The Winchesters would arrive in Venice tomorrow afternoon. Dean and Sam had also seen Alcy in the witch house. It wasn't necessary for Neal and Peter to stay around to identify her.

"You understand why I postponed my flight, right?" Neal asked, eyeing her sympathetically.

"Because you think Raquel Laroque can help?"

He nodded. "There's no record of Alcy Lancaster in Venice. If she's here, she's using an alias. Raquel has extensive connections in the art world. It's worth a visit."

"Will Peter go with you?"

"No, Raquel won't divulge anything to any law enforcement agent."

She nodded absently and placed a pair of silk pants in her bag.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny anything was on the matter, but she was asking him to be open. She needed to be as well. "I was just wondering how long you'd be able to run the con. I understand that for now you need to pretend that Rolf Mansfeld's scheme worked. You're leading a secret life as a thief and forger, only now you're working for Steinar Wolff rather than Rolf."

"And Raquel presents an ideal opportunity to spread the word. The risk to Peter is low. No one knows that he's Steinar. In a sense, my situation is more secure as well because I'm no longer a freelance agent. Raquel won't question that"—he shrugged and smiled disarmingly—"much."

He took the clothes from her hands, placed them on the bed, then pulled her down to sit next to him. "It's not Raquel, is it?"

"No, I already knew her jewelry boutique was here. And I understand why I shouldn't meet her. Your life is complicated enough. There's no need for me to be inserted into the con too." She and Neal had discussed the potential conflicts which could arise. He'd never told Sara that Raquel was a thief, but Sara assumed she engaged in illegal activities. The only time Sara had seen her was from afar when Raquel helped Neal con Keller. Someday Sara might be pursuing her for Sterling-Bosch. They agreed to keep their cases separate from their personal lives as much as possible. He understood that Raquel might be on her radar someday, and he wouldn't hamper her investigation. If Sara became friends with Raquel now, it could lead to messy entanglements down the road. Mozzie was the lone exception to their rule, and he never discussed illegal endeavors or criminal acquaintances with her.

"It's Alcy," Sara admitted. "You believe she's Astrena. What if she goes after you again?"

"Then Maia and Chloe will just have to make another potion and cure me," he said, keeping his tone light.

Sara made a face as she attempted to do the same. "I hope they're better at potions than I am at cooking."

She must not have succeeded very well in masking her fear, as he drew her close to him, his face growing serious. "Peter and I both have concerns, but this is something I have to do. I can still see the haunted look on the face of the artist's widow in Connecticut. As long as Astrena is out there, she'll continue to be a threat to me and others. If we can find the sword and dispatch her back to the stars, the world will be a little bit safer. Peter and I both feel it's worth the risk."

"And if Dean and Sam can't find the sword?"

"Then we won't stay," he assured her. "The Winchesters contacted a hunter in Romania who's coming to help. They'll share their information with him. Alcy is Europe's problem." He gently stroked the hollow of her throat with his finger then traced a line between her breasts. "In the meantime, we have tonight. After you get on the plane tomorrow, I don't know when I'll see you next. Let's not spend any more time talking about witches."

"When there are other far more pleasurable activities?" She smiled at him. "I think I've done enough packing for a while, don't you?"

WCWCWCWCWCWCWC

The next morning passed far too quickly and came to an abrupt end in a flurry of farewells at the airport. Easing the pain of departure for most everyone was the knowledge that it wouldn't be long before they'd see each other again. Henry and Eric would be back from India in a week. Peter and Mozzie would return to El and Janet as soon as they returned to New York. As for Neal, the likelihood of him seeing Sara anytime soon wasn't good. She'd put in a request to be transferred to the New York office but had been told the earliest that might happen would be in the summer. They were left hoping for a case that would necessitate a return to New York.

"It may not be as bad as you think," Peter said as they headed back in the water bus to Venice. "At least now you'll be able to talk about Sara openly at the office. There must have been times last fall when it seemed like Sara was simply a fantasy."

"You're right," Neal said, forcing himself to adopt a more cheerful expression. "Plus, this will give me an incentive to plow through my seminars. By this summer I should have finished the coursework for my doctorate."

"Focus on how much easier it will be to engage in clandestine activities which Sara shouldn't know about," Mozzie urged. "Yes, you really have the ideal situation. It's why Janet and I like to keep our professional lives separate. No messy entanglements."

Peter scowled at him. "Ignore Mozzie's advice. Now I'm the one wishing Sara was already in New York."

"Neal knows what I mean," Mozzie countered, dismissing his argument. "Take what he's doing today as an example. Neal will assume his thief persona to meet with Raquel. A girlfriend would be a distraction." He paused to give a knowing look at Peter. "Sara understands the nature of his work, but there is no need to provoke an unwanted kerfuffle."

"You make a valid point," Peter agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "Remember what a sad sack Neal was when Fiona caught him kissing Raquel at the Met Museum?"

"How could I forget?" Mozzie moaned. "We had to devote a long car trip to cheering him up. If he'd only confided in us immediately about what had occurred, we would have been able to coach him through it."

"I'm right here, guys," Neal protested, "and I wasn't that bad."

"Yes, you were!" they retorted in unison.

"Can we move on to discussing the case, please?" Neal begged. So much for being open about your feelings.

Mozzie had been able to convince Dean and Sam to come to Venice. They were due to arrive in the afternoon. They would all stay at a pensione which had been recommended by Claudia. Located on a side canal, its gardens and seclusion appealed to Mozzie, and the ample breakfasts would be a hit with Peter and Dean. After moving into their new quarters, Peter and Mozzie would meet Claudia to review her brother's notes. As for Neal, he had an appointment with an old friend.

Notes: Thanks for reading! A Witch in Venice has 3 chapters which I'll post weekly on Wednesday. If you'd like to see pictures of the Befana regatta, I have a few on the Pinterest board for this story. I loved hearing from a reader who used the Safari split-screen to have Pinterest open while reading Italian Masquerade. I've been posting all the pins for the story at once so you'll find a few teases about upcoming events as well as the theme music. I chose Ludovico Einaudi, an Italian composer and pianist, for A Witch in Venice.

Neal's unfortunate kerfuffle with Raquel and Fiona and subsequent painful car trip occurred in The Mirror.

Background information: In the pre-canon Caffrey Conversation AU created by Penna Nomen, FBI Special Agent Peter Burke recruited con artist and expert forger Neal Caffrey in 2003 when he was 24. In exchange for a confession, he was given immunity for past crimes and started working for the FBI as a consultant at the White Collar task force in New York City. Sam and Dean Winchester are demon-hunting brothers. Sam is roughly the same age as Neal. Dean is four years older than Sam. Peter is fifteen years older than Neal. For those familiar with the Supernatural timeline, the action is set early in the second season of Supernatural. The Crossed Lines page on our blog has more background information about the stories.

Story Visuals and Music: A Witch in Venice board on the Caffrey Conversation Pinterest website
Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation
Twitter: silbrith