Page 33 of Angel's Flight

Once again, Erik was a ghost.He slipped like a shadow through the crowds behind the man who thought he could beat him, following down streets and alongside the river through the heart of Geneva.It became clear where they were going: the other bank that was supposed to soon receive Erik’s money...Had he not already sent it elsewhere, thanks to Martin.It would be a while before Bidaut discovered the truth: he would be bleeding too profusely.

Erik was quick about it, rushing through the narrow back alleys and even scaling a building that got in his way.He arrived just ahead of Bidaut as the man rounded the final corner, and Erik made his move.Bidaut didn’t see Erik coming, not until it was too late and the blade was in between his ribs.The man gave a soft grunt as Erik seized his arm and looked him in the eye.

“What was it you were saying about random collisions on the street?”Erik whispered.The man seemed to be trying to talk through the pain.“Please try not to die.That would be terribly inconvenient and break a promise to my wife.Though I also made a promise to you, and I’m a man of my word.I couldn’t have you well enough to send another telegram or make any more trouble.”

“I won’t be the one to make the trouble,” Bidaut gurgled, something mad in his eyes that sent a chill down Erik’s back.“She will.She’ll take any excuse to hurt your whore.”

Erik twisted the knife in Bidaut’s side, and the man grimaced.“And you thought I couldn’t accomplish anything with a letter opener.”

Erik encountered no resistance as he hauled Bidaut from the street (it looked as if he was guiding a friend to talk in an alley).He walked him further and further back until Erik pushed the man against a wall.

“Maybe I shouldn’t let you live,” Erik whispered and gripped Bidaut by the throat.For the first time, Bidaut looked afraid, and it was intoxicating.Erik squeezed, watching the fear spike even as the man struggled for air.He saw so many other faces as he kept choking: the boy’s.His brother’s.That villager in the Alps who had barely passed childhood.

Christine’s.

Erik let Bidaut go as soon as consciousness left him, allowing him to fall in a heap on the ground, the silver hilt of the letter opener still protruding from his side.He’d be fine.Probably.Erik didn’t have time to worry.He had a train to catch.

5.Imposters

Lucca

Christine had neverkidnapped anyone, so she was unsure if what she was doing to Pauline counted.It was rather thrilling to have someone under her control, but it was also terrifying.What was she supposed todowith the person who had chased them down to the ends of the earth?

“This seems rather excessive,” Jack whispered nervously, glancing at Pauline’s restrained form in a chair from the corner where he and Christine were conferring.“My family will have questions if they walk into the kitchen and see a woman tied to a chair.”

“Then keep them out,” Christine snapped.

“For how long?”

“Until Erik returns,” Christine declared.

“What can Erik do that you can’t?”Jack asked uneasily.

Christine gulped.The old Erik would not have paused in hurting this woman for information, but Christine had to believe he was different now.Though he had not been different when fighting with those men in Florence.He had been brutal, and Christine hated to think that they needed that brutality.“He’s more versed in these things,” she answered tightly.

“In tying up strange women and extracting confessions from them?”Jack looked extremely worried.Christine was, again, left to wonder how much he regretted making their acquaintance.

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