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When you can't trust in angels, you turn to the devil for a pact.
Alessandro Steno is Venice's living legend. Trying to wash old blood off his hands, he hunts the city's...
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The servant had a head start, the two pursuers almost half the street away. And he was fast.
But so was Alessandro. His body kicked his mind out, switching to instincts. It came easy to him, like hunting deer came to wolves.
Yet, he didn't gain a single foot on the servant.
You're Alessandro Steno, you always catch them. Always.
No one got away from him. Not when he had just started out as an officer, inexperienced and helplessly lost in a world of crime far harsher than the silk cushions of his parent's palace. Not when he had handcuffed his way through the city's darkest alleys. Not when he had battled his way through bribery and death threats. And certainly not now.
I catch them all.
You sure about that? The taunting little voice laughed quietly in the back of his mind. How about .. ?
Alessandro clenched his fists and ran faster.
Every now and then he would glance sideways, expecting the street next to him to be empty, Giacinto left behind. Every time he saw the Greek still next to him, never returning the glance, but always right next to him.
He knew he couldn't slow down should the smaller fall behind, he wouldn't risk loosing the servant. He didn't need to.
Giacinto had turned into a bodiless shadow whisking over the cobble stone with swift smoothness. He was light and agile, the movements flowing with ease. The Greek didn't look like he was exerting himself. His lips were pursed in concentration, but his features weren't strained in exhaustion. Like a panther, there was a casual ease to the sprint.
Alessandro realized with a clench of his jaw that this man could run far faster than that. He could outrun me any time.
At times like these, Alessandro hated the suspicion that had settled deep in his every muscle. Even now, running side by side, he couldn't stop observing the other. Giacinto was far too quick to change directions when the servant flew around a sharp corner, too fast at weaving around groups of people in their was.
All of this is working in my favour, Alessandro told himself. The suspicion crawled through his bones and nudged the voice back to life again. But all of it can be used against you!
He sped up.
They had raced down nearly empty streets, now the servant – who probably was no servant – neared a market square. More and more people poured into their way
They wove around chattering women, servants carrying boxes, two kids playing with a cat, young men laughing as they walked side by side and blocked the street.
Loosing the man was not an option – but far too likely now. Once lost, they'd never find him again.
When they reached he square it was as if they ran into a wall. Market day, the place was crammed with people. The crowd formed a stubborn barrier, squeezing all air away in a chaos of bodies.
