by Ilana Waters
Those who could were coughing, gagging, and gasping for breath. Others were strewn about like forgotten puppets, bones broken, lying far from where they started. Some were unmoving, and I couldn’t tell if they were alive or dead. A few yards away, one young woman was leaning over another, fists pounding the center of her chest.
“She’s not breathing. She’s not breathing!” her companion cried hysterically. Water from her drenched hair dripped onto the unconscious woman. The onlookers who weren’t badly hurt staggered over. One began performing CPR.
Several dogs and small children were plastered against the balustrade along the bank of the river. They were joined by debris from the water, tree branches, blankets, and picnic baskets. Many things that, until moments ago, had merely been part of a sunny day in Rome. The dogs were yelping and the children were crying, but all seemed more or less unharmed. The railing was the only thing that kept them from being dragged back with the receding wave.
As parents and dog owners stumbled to the balustrade, I went to another section of the riverbank. I looked frantically up and down the Tiber, but could see nothing that would cause the river to swell like that without a storm, or something similar. And all I could hear was the gentle swishing sound of the waves as they settled back down. The river was flowing on as gently as before.
Around us, live wires from fallen telephone poles crackled with electricity. Garbage was scattered all over. Everything was drenched and smelled like river water, which was also the way my mouth tasted. Cars parked adjacent to the river had been turned on their sides, or upside down, by the force of the wave.
Several people had come in from the street, or gotten out of their cars and rushed towards those caught in the wave. I heard the wail of ambulance sirens in the distance, and realized I had to get out of there. What if the fact that I was walking around Rome was causing things like the wave in the first place?
There was no time to return to the hotel and change out of my wet clothes. Shaking, I ducked into an alley and did a quick drying spell. Now, I was damp, but at least not soaked. Then I made my way to another vacant taxi stand as quickly as I could. I prayed one would arrive shortly. I had to get to Philip as soon as possible, both so I could learn more about the demon hunter, and to tell him what just took place. In under a minute, a cab arrived.
Nothing destructive had better happen while I’m trying to get to the café, I thought as I got in. Or while I’m at the café. Maybe I’d get lucky and Oblivion would decide to take a nap. I gave the driver the café’s address, then made sure he was traveling in the right direction. The radio emitted beeping noises as he went back and forth between stations, finally settling on one broadcasting the news.
“—and I’ve just received word, Dev,” a man announced, “that the tsunami in Taiwan has claimed at least three hundred lives over the past several hours. The final toll is still unknown due to the large number of people missing, but we did receive word that thousands of locals and tourists have sustained injuries. And although waves up to ninety-five meters high have been reported, experts can find no cause for the tsunami. While they’re often attributed to events such as earthquakes, landslides, volcanic eruptions, and even nuclear tests, this disaster just seemed—”
“To come out of nowhere,” said another man, who I presume was Dev.
“Exactly. Although there are sometimes indications that a tsunami is imminent, unfortunately, that wasn’t the case today. And what that means, Dev, is that there was no time to activate the Pacific Tsunami Warning System, which might have saved so many victims. We’re switching over now to one of our reporters who’s live on the scene. Carla? Carla, are you there?”
“Can you turn that off, per favore?” I asked the driver. I didn’t need to hear the additional coverage. In my mind, I could already see the wreckage along the Taiwanese shore and beyond. Debris strewn everywhere. Ships beached like children’s toys the tsunami had flung at random. And the bodies of people who couldn’t get to higher ground before it was too late.
“Terrible, no?” The driver switched to a station playing reggae music. “The government over there . . . they really ought to do something about it.”
Yes, because the President of the Republic of China has demon-fighting knowledge the rest of us don’t. I leaned my forehead against the window glass.
You’re doing this, aren’t you? I asked Oblivion. That monstrous wave out of the Tiber, and now a tsunami. It’s all you, isn’t it? Isn’t it? But there was no response.
Oblivion, you son of a bitch, answer me! The resulting silence in my head was maddening.
“Now he doesn’t want to talk,” I said under my breath.
“Signore?” The driver turned his head slightly.
“Just keep going!”
We were almost at the café when traffic slowed to a crawl. “Road construction near the Via Sistina,” the driver explained. I took out my phone again and looked down at it. Almost time to meet Philip.
Hell, I can walk faster than this. “Just stop here, driver.” I didn’t even look this one in the eye before throwing a handful of bills on the front seat and jumping out of the cab.
I started walking to Philip’s meeting spot as quickly as I could. All around me were the sounds of people talking, laughing, arguing. Tourists asking for directions, children screaming, lovers kissing. After a few blocks, I estimated I wasn’t far from the café. But then, I grew uneasy. I got the strange feeling someone was following me. At first, I thought it might be Philip. Then I realized that was silly. Philip was coming from the PIA office, which was in the opposite direction. When we met up, he’d be facing me, not following me.
And the figure was smaller and darker than Philip. I couldn’t get a good look, because whenever I turned around, the figure would vanish. But it definitely didn’t have Philip’s blond hair, or his stocky build. I tried to read the person’s thoughts, but couldn’t. You’ll find, dear reader, that some mortal minds are impenetrable. Or was I being paranoid? Maybe no one was following me at all.
Did Oblivion send someone after me? I supposed he might, and easily, but I couldn’t fathom why. I was as close as his own heartbeat. He didn’t need a third party to communicate with me, or force me to do something out of character. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being prey, and came to the conclusion it was not paranoia. Now, I knew a little about how my victim in the metro felt. I didn’t like it.
I sensed that the stalker wasn’t supernatural. But he had a very strong energy about him. Even though I couldn’t read his thoughts, I could tell they were sharp, fierce. Determined. Maybe a mugger? Unlikely. Nothing about my appearance screamed “money.”
Out of nowhere came a heinous, high-pitched noise. It was like a cross between a vampire’s scream and having one’s head pierced with knitting needles. I cried out and covered my ears, dropping to my knees from the agony. Then, the noise stopped as abruptly as it started. Wild-eyed and gasping for air, I looked up. But there was nothing. No police or ambulance sirens, nothing to make an unearthly sound like the one I just heard.
What’s more was that the people around me didn’t seem to have heard anything. They stared at me, crouched on the ground, and gave a wide berth while quickly walking away. No one else appeared startled or in pain. They probably thought I was on drugs, mad, or worse. I stood up slowly, trying to take deep breaths. Then I smoothed my lapels, brushed off my trousers, and walked on. But I’ll be damned if I still didn’t feel that fellow following me.
I whirled around to see if I could catch him in the act. No sooner had I done so than he expertly turned into an alley. I waited a few seconds, but he did not reappear. I continued walking. Then I whirled around again, faster. This time, he actually seemed to disappear behind a lamppost, which I thought only happened in cartoons.
What is this bloke, some kind of ninja? I kept walking, and he kept following. Then came a thought that made me go cold all over.
The demon hunter.
Chapter 12
Well, that certainly was fast. I’d hoped to have a bit more time before I was pursued by a vicious killer, but there was little to be done about it.
Now, I had a dilemma. I couldn’t risk going to the café with the demon hunter on my trail. He’d know Philip was involved. I couldn’t go back to the Hassler, because then he’d know where I was staying. Then I really would be a sitting duck, and possibly my parents would be as well. My best option was to lose him in the winding streets of Rome, return to the Hassler, and somehow get a message to Philip about what happened.
Fortunately, I’d done a lot of walking since I arrived in the city, as well as studied its maps. I was almost as familiar with it as a native. I darted in and out of alleyways and side streets, and across main thoroughfares. I turned left, right, and left again. I tried to make my movements as unpredictable as possible, and threw in a don’t-look spell for good measure.
It occurred to me that Oblivion could make me come to the underground, drawing the demon hunter there with me. It was an alarming thought. As much as I didn’t want to die at the hunter’s hands, I didn’t really want to have to kill him either. I just wanted him to leave me alone long enough to rid myself of Oblivion, if that was even possible. Of course, Oblivion didn’t have to bring the demon hunter to the underground in order to do terrible things to him. To have me do terrible things to him. And even though this assassin was a threat, no one deserved the hellish fate I was sure Oblivion would dream up.
But I didn’t go to the underground after all. Feeling fairly in control of my thoughts, I ended up in front of an abandoned office building. I looked up and down the quiet street, but saw no one. I sighed with relief; I’d lost him. But it didn’t pay to take chances. I ducked into the building and decided to wait a few more minutes, just to be sure the demon hunter was gone.
Light from the street lamps shone through many of the building’s broken windows. Inside, there was an abundance of graffiti and dangling wires. The ground was covered with pieces of plaster and other debris, and felt gritty as I walked. Floors of the upper stories were missing several sections, and I could see where skeleton frames of doorways and walls divided the rooms. Even beams from the ceiling had long since fallen down. There was no telling when this place had last seen a human being.
For the first time, I was grateful for Rome’s crowds, the incessant throng of people coming and going. It had likely prevented the demon hunter from tackling me in public. He wouldn’t risk exposing the PIA, not to mention unprovoked assault charges. After all, he’d have a devil of a time explaining why he assailed a seemingly innocent man. I elected to go to the second floor to gain a better vantage point.
No, I thought as I walked up the crumbling staircase. He’d have to get me alone somewhere. I nearly tripped on a rotting step; it was hard to see in such dim surroundings. But if the demon hunter was nearby, I didn’t want to alert him to my presence by making magic light. I peered through the wall of windows at the building’s façade, careful not to stand directly in front of them. No reason to risk the demon hunter seeing me if he was on the street. I gazed as far as I could down either end of the block, but there was no sign of my stalker.
I smiled. I’d definitely lost him. He’d probably meant to lead me to a secluded spot and ambush me after—
I felt a whoosh of air go past my ear, a tugging pain above it, and then a twanging sound. To my left, I saw a crossbow bolt lodged in the window frame, gently quivering back and forth.
It had a small chunk of my hair on it.
I spun around. There, only a few yards away, was the figure who’d been stalking me. He wore a close-fitting black jacket and trousers, with sturdy black boots. His jacket’s zipper was at a diagonal, and a dark hood obscured his face. As he leaned down to load another bolt—with surprising speed, I might add—I saw he wore black leather gloves as well. He boasted a tool belt that held what I presumed were weapons. I didn’t even recognize some of them.
“I know why you’re here.” I put my hands in the air. “But this isn’t what it looks like. If I could just explain—”
Whoosh. Zing. I saw another bolt rush towards me, and had to leap horizontally to avoid getting hit. I landed hard on my right side and groaned. But I sprang back up before the demon hunter could load a third bolt, motioning with my hand to push the crossbow towards the wall.
My magic did nothing. The demon hunter continued loading the bolt as before. I made the sweeping motion with my hand again, using even more magic. Still nothing.
What the hell? That should have ripped the bow right out of his hands. I squinted at the figure in confusion. Then my eyes bulged as he began marching toward me, crossbow shoulder high. The bolt was loaded. He was going in for the kill this time.
I sent air magic to knock him off his feet. Useless. I stared at the worn floorboards, willing earth magic to make them crumble so he’d fall. Completely useless. He was almost face- to-face with me now, his finger on the trigger. Before he could pull it, I kicked out his leg and ducked.
The bolt sprang from the crossbow, went past my head, and shattered one of the windows behind me. The man gave a grunt, but got back up, his leg seemingly unharmed. I moved behind him and grabbed the quiver on his back, spilling his remaining bolts. Unable to turn around, he lifted the crossbow higher, over his shoulder, and bashed me in the head.
I cried out and staggered back, clutching my face. For the thousandth time in my life, I cursed my low pain tolerance. Looking down at my hands, I saw blood, and knew my nose was broken. But then, I felt the cracked pieces fusing back together, the skin molding over the cartilage. The blood dried almost instantly, even disappearing from my palms.
That’s bizarre, I thought. Normally, I’d have to hold something with earth magic to heal that quickly. Like a clump of soil or a piece of wood. Even so, it was nice to know some of my powers were still working. Maybe the rest of them were off because of the recent lack of food, water, and sleep.
The demon hunter didn’t bother trying to find his scattered bolts. Instead, he pulled a switchblade from his belt and came at me again. I leaped back several times to avoid being stabbed. Then I grabbed his extended arm, twisted it behind his back, and shoved him face-first against a wall.
“See here,” I barked. “I don’t want to hurt you. If you would just lis—”
The demon hunter brought his boot down on my foot. I roared in pain as my toes broke. But by the time the fellow managed to turn around, I could already feel them mending. He tried to reach for another weapon on his belt, but I grabbed him by the throat.
“That’s enough,” I snapped, pulling his hood off so I could look him in the eye. “You leave me no choice but to—”
My jaw dropped as I stared at my assailant’s face. A very female face.
“You’re . . . you’re a woman?” I supposed the demon hunter didn’t appreciate me stating the obvious, because she kneed me in the groin. Hard. I groaned and bent over, wherein she clasped her hands into one giant fist and brought it down on my back. I was almost parallel to the ground when she tried to bring her knee up to my stomach. I grabbed her thigh and pulled her down. She landed on her back with a grunt, but twisted away when I reached down to punch her. My fist broke the floorboard in half.
She was on her feet and several yards away before I could land another blow. Her hands hovered over her belt, no doubt deciding on a weapon. Her chest heaved in and out as she tried to catch her breath, eyes flashing, stare unwavering. I would’ve described her as beautiful, except for the severe look on her face. And the fact that she wanted to kill me.
She had olive skin and brown eyes, along with dark, wavy hair held up by a clip in back. I wouldn’t put her age at more than thirty. Her sharp cheekbones, thin nose, and glittering eyes brought to mind a hawk. She reminded me a bit of Stavros, a vampire minion of Ferox’s that George and I had been forced to do away with. He had a similar look about him. But unlike Stavros, t
his woman’s entire body seemed like that of a bird of prey. As if she were a creature born to hunt, and nothing else.
“Forgive my surprise a moment ago.” Although she’d struck me expertly in several places, I could feel the damage had already been repaired. “I know I shouldn’t make assumptions about gender. But we’ve not been properly introduced. I’m Joshua Alderman—”
“I know who you are.” She spoke in Italian, her voice as strong as her fighting moves. “I am Gabriella Nocifari, and I have been sent here to kill you.”
“So you’re the demon hunter, eh?” I replied, also in Italian.
“Consultant,” she corrected.
“Why do you carry a crossbow? Isn’t that a little old-school?” Although Arthur seems to think it comes in handy.
“People are more likely to hear and report gunshots. It’s imperative that we work in secrecy.”
I nodded. “Indeed. Though with the hood and knife, aren’t you taking the cloak-and-dagger thing a bit literally?” She continued staring at me, unsmiling.
“Guess we’re skipping the witty banter portion of the fight, then. Bad form, you know.”
“I’m in no mood for games.” Her voice was lower now.
“And I’m in no mood to die. It seems we have different goals. Perhaps we should just part ways and—”
Nocifari replied by turning several cartwheels toward me. On the last one, her heel struck me in the chest. I went back like a shot, breaking another window behind me. No doubt she’d meant to push me out the window, but I landed too low.
O-kay. I got up and dusted off shards of glass. The time for reasonable discussion was definitely over.
