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“See him? Ten or twelve paces back?”

“Yes,” said Marcus. “I got him.”

We walked on some more. Somehow, through the very corner of my peripheral vision, I could make out the silhouette of a man, following us.

“The next alley?” Randall asked.

“Yes,” Holden answered. “On my count…”

The man was tall and gaunt, with wiry hair and grey sideburns. He was dressed for the festival, but then again he wasn’t. He might’ve blended in amongst every other person, but to a trained eye he stood out like a sore thumb.

“Ready?” asked Holden.

The others nodded as we walked past the alley.

“One…”

The guys slowed down our pace a little.

“Two…”

The man kept coming.

“Three!”

Fifty-Two

ANDREA

In one fluid motion they whirled on our follower, all three of them grabbing and dragging him right into the alley. Marcus threw him up against a wall, screwing his hands into his shoulders so hard the man grunted in pain.

“STOP...”

Our follower coughed the word more than said it, the wind temporarily knocked from his lungs. His face was a grimace of pain, and something else.

Something that looked like… indignity.

“Who are you?” Holden growled. “Talk fast.”

Randall was already at the edge of the alley, scanning the crowd in both directions. Just outside the shadows, it was all lights and sounds and merriment. But in the little space between low-slung buildings…

“He knows who I am,” the man said, with a deadly edge to his voice. He was looking right at Marcus. And Marcus was staring back.

I saw the big Ranger’s arms relax. He let the man slide down the wall, until his feet were touching the ground again. Then, with a resigned sigh, he let go of him completely.

“Marcus!” Randall warned. “What the—”

“He’s from Indigo.”

The man rubbed his shoulders for a moment, then smoothed the wrinkles from his coat. All traces of a grimace were gone from his face now, as if pain were somehow too undignified for him. He looked more offended than angry.

“How’d you find us?” asked Marcus.

“Oh, it wasn’t hard,” the man said simply. “But you Alvarez, of all people, should know that already.”

The man stood up straight, his posture perfect. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but he carried himself in a peculiar way

“Just know that we had you in Spain,” the man said. “And again near Genoa. We could’ve had this conversation anywhere we wanted, at any time we wanted.” He tilted his head at Marcus and raised one eyebrow. “Do you agree?”