Page 58
Thomas snapped. “We don’t have time—”
“Give me one day,” Marini said. “Return tomorrow morning. If there is something buried here—anything at all—I will find it.”
Thomas and I exchanged a glance, then Thomas nodded slowly. “One day.”
We left the Archives through a side passage, exiting beneath the quieter colonnades of the Vatican. The air outside was bright, almost too bright after our time in Marini’s dim world. I blinked at the sunlight like I’d forgotten what the sky looked like.
“I’m starving,” I muttered, my stomach rumbling again.
“Already?”
I shrugged. “It’s my process.”
We stepped through the wrought-iron gate and onto the street beyond, but the moment we rounded the corner, I felt it. Something shifted in the air,subtle but undeniable. It was the kind of shift that made the back of my neck itch.
A sudden hush fell over the nearby piazza.
A man playing violin stopped mid-phrase.
Pigeons burst skyward in a flurry of wings and panicked coos.
The world had tilted slightly.
“Left side,” I said softly.
Thomas gave the briefest nod. “Dark suit, blue tie, tall. What about the right?”
“Gray coat, too warm for today, shoes look military or police issue.”
I caught the gray coat again in the mirrored glass of a café door we passed. It was just a flicker of movement, but it felt wrong. The man’s reflection paused as we walked, hesitating a heartbeat too long before continuing.
We didn’t stop.
We didn’t speed up.
We just kept walking.
“Think they’re Vatican?” I asked.
Thomas shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. The Vatican loves secrets, but tailing people isn’t their style.”
“Soviets?”
“Not unless they sent the B team. The Reds are too good to be discovered the moment we stepped outside.”
“Shit,” Ibreathed. “Thereisa third actor. Have we been chasing our tails this whole time?”
We turned onto a busier street where the crowd grew thicker.
The shadows followed.
A scooter zipped by. In the reflection on its chrome side panel, I caught our gray-coated friend again.
He was closer now.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m officially uncomfortable.”
Thomas—the asshole—smirked. “At least you’re not hungry anymore.”
