Chapter 9: Pursuit's View

Selene

Before sunset I turned my quarters into a crime scene, and it was all for one man.

Maps covered the table and more maps littered the floor. I had alley sketches pinned to the wall with iron tacks. Timelines were written in ink on parchment in neat lines. They collided with circles, arrows and corrections. Witness statements were in piles and they were ranked by usefulness and stupidity.

Most people get poetic when they're scared.

He vanished into the air, His eyes were icy cold, He moved fast, It wasn't natural.

I didn't really find it useful, I preferred details.

I looked at the boot prints, I checked the direction of blood spray, I noted which hand opened a door, I counted the seconds between screams. I sharpened a knife on a stone, I listened to the hiss of metal. I did it again and again.

The blade caught the candlelight.

My hand moved fast when I wrote his name.

Cassian Vale.

I stared at the ink. I was annoyed by the pulse in my throat.

I now know his habits. I know them better than I knew for some people I called friends. I knew where he appeared, I knew when he vanished, I knew his routes, I knew which neighborhoods woke up with rumors after midnight.

That thought should have disgusted me. Instead it made me steady.

I spread out the reports. I traced a line across the city.

The Old Saint Verin Church. It had been sealed since the collapse.

The Harrow Tunnels were beneath the river market.

The Velmour Theatre was burned down thirty years ago.

The north bell tower ruins stood tall.

They weren't feeding grounds, they weren't districts, they weren't streets. They were forgotten places.

I leaned back slowly.

He wasn't hunting.

He was moving.

He used the bones of the city. He slipped through hidden corridors that no one alive remembered.

There was a knock at my door.

"Enter, " I said.

A courier in Order gray stepped inside. His eyes were lowered,He handed me a folded note, saying it was a message from the commander. Afterwards, he left quickly as if my room had a plague.

I opened it.

It said, "Wait for backup, don't engage solely, just observe, confirm location and withdraw."

I held the paper over the candle flame. The edge curled and it all bursted into orange flames, the ash drifted onto my maps.

Protocol was a leash for sluggish people. Honestly, I didn't want witnesses. I wanted the kill to be mine.

I stripped off my regulation armor and I chose leather instead. I had less chest plating to ensure more movement, I strapped silver knives to my thighs, I had a collapsible crossbow across my back, I had garrote wire in my sleeve, I had a stake along my spine beneath my coat.

I wasn't a soldier.

I am an executioner.

When night fell, I stepped into it. I was already breathing harder.

The city changed after dark.

Market stalls clattered shut like teeth. Rainwater slid from roof edges in threads, the alleys smelled of rust, stone, old smoke and things best unnamed. Lantern light pooled in patches and it left the streets to shadow.

I moved through it without slowing.

Every figure ahead was a possibility, every rooftop line was a route and every gust of air made my pulse sharper.

I wasn't afraid.

I was eager.

At the alley where I first investigated, I stopped when I saw fresh cuts marking the brick wall. It was a crescent slash, it was carved with precision.

It wasn't gang code nor was it vandalism. It was a signature.

My fingers brushed the groove. It was still sharp which means it was recent.

"He knows, " I murmured.

He knew I had come back.

He knew I would.

Heat rose in my chest, It was a heat of anger. It was something less respectable.

I searched upward. Dust was disturbed on a window ledge. A cufflink was near a drain. It was silver and looked expensive, enough to feed a family for months. A rooftop tile overhead was still rocking faintly.

I could not stop myself, I smiled when I saw the trail he was leaving for me. He was being arrogant thinking he could lead me on a wild goose chase, still I was determined to follow him no matter where he went. I climbed up a drainpipe, swung onto a ledge then hauled myself up onto the roof. The wind was cutting through my coat, I did not let that stop me. I started to run, jumping from roof to roof and dashing across gaps that were slick with rain. I ran past chimney stacks and broken gargoyles, my heart pounding in my chest.

As I ran I felt a strange sensation building up inside me. It was not about doing my duty anymore. It was about winning, about proving myself. I wanted to see the look on his face when I caught up to him. I vaulted over a wall. Caught a glimpse of him below. He was wearing a coat, he looked taller than I remembered. He turned a corner without hurrying. I dropped down to the street, my knees jarring as I landed. I took off after him, running as fast as I could.

He moved through a passage between shops, his coat hem whispering against the stone. I chased after him weaving through hanging laundry that slapped against my face. I jumped over stacked crates. Ran around a butcher's yard the smell of fat filling my nostrils. 

I was gaining on him. I could hear his footsteps if he moved. I was close enough to grab his collar if he slowed down. But he never did. He seemed to be gliding across the ground unbothered by my presence, it was as if the city itself was carrying him. 

I felt a surge of rage. I cut left through a side lane jumping over a wall and reaching the ruined cathedral before he did. 

I had studied the map of the cathedral for hours. I knew it had one nave and three exits. I knew the roof was broken and the moonlight was shining down on us. I also knew that there was a hidden crypt access beneath the altar.

I moved quickly, setting up a trap for him. I stretched wire across the side doors and poured blessed salt over the thresholds. I mounted my crossbow in the rafters setting the trip-trigger to aim at the center aisle. Then I took position behind a cracked pillar waiting for him to arrive. My lungs were more expanded and my heart was pounding in my chest.

Footsteps echoed through the cathedral slowly and measuredly. Cassian Vale stepped through the entrance looking like he was arriving late to a party. The moonlight shone down on him casting a silver glow over his coat and damp hair. His face was unreadable. His gaze drifted to the wire then to the salt and finally to me. Something flashed in his eyes. I realized it was approval. I felt a surge of anger at his arrogance.

I stepped into view, raising my weapon. "Kneel " I said, my voice ringing through the nave. He looked around the cathedral again with a smile playing on his lips. "You chose well, " he said. I tightened my grip on my weapon. "I said kneel, " I repeated. He took a step forward, the wire glinting near his boots. "Another step and I will put silver through your throat " I warned him.

He took another step, his eyes never leaving mine. I triggered the wire line. He was already gone. He was a blur. Then he was still standing three feet to the side. I fired my crossbow. The bolt split the stone where his head had been. He glanced at the pillar, a smile on his face. "Too eager, " he said.

I drew a knife feeling a surge of anger. "Shut up " I said. He kept walking, his demeanor more unnerving than any violence. The moonlight caught the planes of his face. He stopped just out of reach. His gaze dropped to the center of my chest. I realized he was measuring my heartbeat. He was measuring my weakness.

I had not moved in seconds and had not blinked. I had trapped the room. He had trapped my focus. My pulse was hammering in my ears. I felt like I was frozen in place. "You came alone, " he said softly. I lifted the blade higher. "To kill you " I said. A faint smile touched his mouth. "Is that what this is?" he asked. Then he