Chapter 40

Rome

Ian's Italian was perfect… as was his disguise. He fit right in with a number of young Italian men waving at the signorinas in the crowded Rome streets. Many of the young men had small bikes and weaved in and out of traffic… calling "Ciao!" to the ladies. Ian adopted their mannerisms and found himself welcomed into their midst. Using them as cover… he wandered the areas… watching the crowds… listening to the gossip of the marketplace… and generally getting a feel for this ancient but oh so modern city.

He'd never been here before. Hell… he'd never really been too many places before finding Ste. Genevieve and feeling he'd come home. He had to admit… that being out here in the world… was invigorating. Already he was thinking of things to tell Alisaunne and praying they'd have a chance to really see something of the city once Duncan gave the all-clear.

That reminded him of his friends' strained relations this morning. Both Duncan and Alisaunne had acted like the world was ending after he'd gotten out of the shower. Neither would say what it was. But it must have been something major. Alisaunne had wept and stormed. She'd been doing a lot of that since taking her first quickening… and it worried Ian. He knew they all changed some with each quickening they took… but there were moments that Alisaunne frightened him. Instead of bright and cheerful and loving… as she'd often been… lately she'd seemed so damned angry. And now Duncan positively glared at both of them. Ian truly hoped things would be calmer when he got back to the hotel.

He was just crossing the Plazza Navona when he felt another… very close. Ian took a deep breath and continued walking… hoping that his momentary hesitation on the square had not led anyone to notice him. Three blocks later… with the presence still with him… and the pedestrian traffic thinning out, he knew he was being followed. He glanced about to find an out of the way and safe place for what he feared was coming.

Ian turned sharply into a blind alley whose rear was blocked by a retaining wall about six feet high and lined with broken glass. He walked about halfway into the alley, turned, and stood facing the entrance. He tried to recall all that Duncan had told him about facing opponents… about stillness… and knowing one's opponent. He continued to eye his surroundings carefully, assessing what might be a way out.

The immortal came to the opening… his form casting a shadow into the alleyway. As he walked forward he drew his weapon. "I am Raphael," he spit hatefully.

Ian remained calm… his hands clasped before him. "We don't have to do this."

"The final gathering is at hand. I have survived to participate. And you…" he laughed. "You seem a little young and more than a little unprepared."

Ian remembered something Duncan had told him. "Your relative youth may throw some of them off… especially ones who are young but don't look it. They may not have the experience to recall that for us… age is relative."

The Welshman smiled and shrugged. "We are what we are." In an economical move the Highlander had taught him… one that worked especially well with the katana he now had Ian using… Ian drew his blade, took his stance, holding it above his head. He hoped the nervousness he was feeling was not evident in his face.

Raphael grinned and raced forward… slashing.

Ian blocked and turned… shifting to one side… letting his body remember the elegant moves… so that his mind was free. His katana quavered with the force of the blows… yet he blocked them… as he had blocked many of Duncan's practice blows… many of Alisaunne's. They were better… but they had also made him better.

"The katana can be the most lethal of weapons," Duncan had told him. "With the weakness in your right arm… a two handed-delivery is best for you… but this is lighter than a broadsword… you won't tire as quickly."

Ian turned and slid to one side… letting the blade slice open Raphael's stomach. The immortal hesitated as he stared at the wound and then looked deeply into Ian's calm face.

"Who are you?" the immortal whispered as he fell to his knees on the asphalt.

Ian shifted and held the katana up. "I am no one… no one of any importance." And he let gravity do part of the work.

The quickening was not major… Raphael was less than fifty. He'd been trained by and had worked for an immortal known as Korda for many years… until Korda had died. He'd been on his own… returning to Rome… the city of his birth to hunt the streets… and make his fortune. One by one he'd been seeking the weaker immortals out… taking their heads… and their money. The lightning died. Ian staggered momentarily in its aftermath.

Glancing up at the elderly couple staring into the alleyway and wondering what the electrical disturbance was about, Ian quickly replaced his sword within his coat and turned to jump onto the stone wall behind him… flip over the broken glass and race away. He'd need to change his clothes… and alter his appearance somewhat before returning to the hotel. Duncan would not be happy!

Ducking into a doorway Iane tried to call the Highlander on the cell phone. It had shorted out as a result of the quickening. "Damn!" he swore thrusting it back into his pocket, as he headed off in a new direction.

Behind him, a thin man pushed past the elderly couple and came to a stop over the body of his assignment. An immortal that no one else apparently had under surveillance had evidently killed the Aftican-Italian and managed to vanish.

Arthur Kidman knelt at Raphael's side and expertly assessed the stomach wound as well as the clean-cut across the neck. Rising he backed away. This one was already public and the authorities were likely on their way… Already he could hear the beep of the approaching sirens. He'd have to leave. Kidman stared around at the alleyway and noted the retaining wall as he backed away… already punching in the number on his cell. "Mischkov… you said to be on the lookout for an immortal using a katana… I may have one… He just took out my assignment, the immortal Raphael in Rome. No… he vanished before I could get a good look at him but I don't think he has a Watcher. He managed to get away… but I doubt he'll get far… and there were witnesses." He nodded and listened for a few moments. "Right then… I'll wait." He closed the phone and remained where he was… observing the arriving authorities in the performance of their duties… just another on-looker in the growing crowd.

Alisaunne gazed nervously out the window. "Why hasn't he called?"

Duncan moved up to stand beside her. "He'll call. He's careful."

"But it's been hours… what could have happened?"

Duncan stared at her… then crossed to the armoire, pulled open the doors and turned on the television… looking for local news. He didn't have to look far.

"Nooo!" Alisaunne moaned when the story of an unidentified man beheaded near the Plazza Navona came on. She raced for the door. Duncan met her there and pulled her back.

"You can't help him now. It might not be him. Wait Alisaunne! This is part of it…" He turned her to face him and stared into her eyes until she finally seemed to see him. "He'll call," Duncan smiled, "He'll call." He let her go when she nodded. "You have to believe that." He turned back to the television and watched and listened… wondering what he'd do if this were Ian who'd lost a challenge.

His cell phone rang. It was an unknown number so he answered carefully. "Si," he said evenly as he motioned Alisaunne to be silent.

"Duncan… I'm fine… the… storm… knocked out my phone. I'll be a little bit late." Duncan nodded at Alisaunne with a smile, relieved to see her collapse in grateful tears on the divan. He turned toward the window. "Do you have the car yet?"

"On my way. Tell Ali I love her." The phone clicked off.

"Ian says he loves you," Duncan said gently as he shut off the television. He wanted to know more… but Alisaunne did not need this right now. "He's headed to the rental place to get the car. It'll likely be too late by the time he gets back to leave… We'll stay the night… leave first thing in the morning."

"For Paris?" she asked.

Duncan nodded. "For Paris."

St. Louis, MO

The words of the two male voices gradually crystallized in Katya's muddled brain.

"You shouldn't have reduced the dosage," said one.

"I've watched this bitch for five years. Before they come to collect her… I'm gonna have her at least once… and I want her to know it… know that she is powerless. Besides… she'll still be so drugged she'll only barely be aware."

Katya could feel a hand sliding up and down her bare leg. She fought to keep her face slack… as if totally unaware of what was happening.

The first voice continued, "Fine… take her… but maybe you should have left those restraints on."

Laughter from the second as another hand rubbed over her breasts. "I want her to struggle… I like it when they struggle."

"Well I'll be down the hall," the first voice said and Katya heard a door open and close. She remained totally relaxed even as she felt the man spread her legs apart and climb onto her laughing. She could sense his face close to her… his breath hot on her face.

Without warning Katya reached up and snapped his neck. The man collapsed on top of her. She shoved him off with a hateful glance and sat up to look around.

She was in a windowless room… perhaps the basement of a house as she saw the concrete block walls on two sides. A single light bulb hung from the wooden beams above. The gurney she was on was the only furniture in the room. An IV was still in her arm. Angrily she pulled it out.

Swinging her legs off… she stumbled when her bare feet hit the concrete floor. She was dressed only in a hospital gown. Ripping it off… she knelt and quickly pulled her attacker's pants and shirt off of his corpse and donned them. She saw nothing in the room she could use as a weapon.

Cautiously she opened the wooden door and peered into the hallway. Seeing no one… she started toward the rickety wooden stairs she saw at one end.

She'd barely gone three yards before she felt another immortal. Katya paused by another door. The door opened and a man looking back at a figure on another gurney appeared… he turned and seeing Katya exclaimed, "Oh shit!" They were the last words he ever spoke. Katya snapped his neck as well and then entered the second room.

The young woman on the gurney was still drugged. Curled in fetal position, her long honeyed hair splayed about her face, she slept as though dead. She was immortal, however. Katya reached over and pulled the IV from the woman's arm, wondering how long before she'd awaken.

This room had a table and two chairs in it as well as the metal gurney. Katya crossed to them and ripped two legs from the table to use as weapons. Behind her the other immortal began to stir.

"What? What?" she slurred as she came out of her stupor. Then, evidently sensing Katya's presence she looked about startled.

"I'm no threat to you. My name is Katya."

The woman focused blearily on Katya's voice and nodded thoughtfully.

"If you can stand… we need to get moving. I don't know how many more may be upstairs." Katya pulled the corpse of the second man into the room and began stripping off his clothes for the other woman.

"How did we get here? Who is that?" the girl murmured as she dressed.

"I'm not certain. I was in the elevator at my apartment building the last I recall. The doors to my floor opened and something hit me." She handed one of the table legs to her companion.

"I was crossing through the park. I'd been to the jazz festival by the river. I think I was shot."

"Do you have a name?" Katya asked.

The young woman looked at her carefully. "In this life you can call me Amber."

"Then Amber… let's get the hell out of here." Katya started to the hall as Amber knelt by the man and began examining his wrists. "What are you looking for?"

"Watcher tattoos," murmured Amber.

"What?"

"Haven't you heard of the Watchers?" Amber smiled. When Katya shook her head, Amber continued. "Mortals who watch us and chronicle what we are. My teacher told me about them long ago. Most just watch… but a few have been known to kill our kind."

"You'll have to tell me all about it… but right now… we need to go." Katya indicated the stairs. Amber nodded as they carefully began their ascent.

Voices came from the other side of the wooden door… voices peppered with laughter. Two voices. Katya caught Amber's eyes and smiled holding up two fingers. Amber nodded as she hefted her table leg.

Katya silently mouthed the count, "Three, two, one" and opened the door. Both women raced through… surprising the two men sitting at the table drinking coffee. They clubbed them both unconscious, Katya then snapped their necks for good measure.

At Amber's odd look, Katya explained. "No sense in leaving them alive to raise an alarm." Amber nodded silently.

Searching the inside of the old house, they found their swords and clothes. Grabbing their shoes, coats and weapons, and bundling their clothes under their arms… the immortals slipped out of the house, through the large wooded yard… and raced down an alleyway.

"Should we separate or stay together," Amber asked breathlessly.

"I'd say together for the moment. I need to contact some friends and see what's happening." Katya said. "We need to find out who these people are and how widespread this is."

"Not to mention what they want with us."

Katya laughed harshly, "Yes… there is that. Somehow I think there may be more going on here than someone just wanting to keep us as unwilling victims. Let's move. We need to boost a car… but not in this neighborhood."

Amber nodded her agreement as the two immortals moved onto the sidewalk of the old St. Louis neighborhood and hurried quickly out of the area.