Power (9 page)

“Yeah, there’s this whole ‘totalitarian surveillance state’ thing going on.” Reed waved a hand vaguely at a light post as we passed. “Traffic cameras everywhere to help your commute … and report your whereabouts to Big Brother. You know. The usual.”

“You’re kind of part of that whole surveillance state thing, you know,” J.J. said. “Or weren’t you the guy who came running up to me last night asking if I could pull up footage from the cameras around the Como Zoo and Observatory?”

Reed was dusky of complexion, but even I could see him redden. “I am well aware of the boundaries of my various hypocrisies, and I embrace them when it comes to making sure the last surviving member of my family keeps on surviving.”

I felt myself suppress a little smile. It wasn’t that I didn’t know he’d been worried, but it was nice to hear it every now and again. “Awww,” I said and meant it. I never mean it. I say it purely for ironic effect. Except for this time.

We settled back into silence as we turned north on 494. After a few minutes, that gnawing, uncomfortable feeling came back, and I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I’d said, “Awww” without being ironic. There was something tickling at the back of my mind, and I still couldn’t quite land on what was causing it.

I didn’t dare close my eyes or speak out loud, but I did the next best thing—I directed a query to someone who understood instinct better than anyone else in the car would.

Wolfe
, I said,
what the hell is going on?

Being watched, Little Doll. It traces faint lines on the mind, runs claws lightly along all your survival instincts.

I looked sharply left, then right, then up.
Where is it coming from?

Somewhere above
, he said.
An eye in the sky, Wolfe thinks.

“J.J., I said, “is there any drone traffic in the skies above us?”

“Uhm,” the geek said, looking like I’d dumped coffee down his pants, “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“The totalitarian surveillance state is everywhere,” Reed pronounced.

“Hush up,” I said, leaning toward J.J. “Would there be any way to tell if we were being watched right now?”

“It may be possible,” J.J. said, fumbling for the black shoulder bag he had at his feet. “I mean, if I can use my wireless network card to get online and tap into Air Traffic Control, we should be able to see civilian air traffic and maybe I could…”

I tuned out the next thing he started to say as a white van slid up beside us just outside his window. My instincts growled at the mere sight of it, windowless, matching our speed exactly. I looked behind me and saw an exact duplicate—same model and everything—just outside my window, pacing us perfectly and seeming to drift closer.

Then the sliding doors opened up to reveal men with guns, and the sharp sound of barking gunfire consumed my whole world.

Chapter 14

Rome, Roman Empire

280
A.D.

Marius looked down from Capitoline Hill upon the glory of Rome. In this case, the glory took the form of the Forum, with its columns tipped with statuary and the empty space for the Comitium, where the senate would meet with populace in front of the Curia. Marius had heard the tales in Apiolae, the adults speaking with one another about the workings of the Empire, but to see it in its glory was … well, glorious.

Still, along with the glory came the smells that were anything but glorious. The whole of Rome had an aroma of animals and people that defied those of the barn, even at their worst. Not that the barn had been all that bad; he’d kept it clean, after all. This, though … he’d seen the sewers that took the filth away, but the smell was still pungent. More pungent than Apiolae had been, in any case.

Marius glanced back up at Capitoline Hill as he made his way down the slow, winding road of cobbled stone. He could see the bustling crowds down in the Forum, groups of people talking, making their way to their destinations. He could feel the buzz of activity, the energy of the people below. Arguing, laughing, doing all the things of life, the things he had seen at a distance back home. The things he’d seen people stop doing the moment he walked up.

He made his way down onto the square, up the steps and looked to his left at the Arch of Septimius Severus. It looked new to him, the sheen still upon it, in contrast to the weathered appearance of the Curia behind it.

The summer heat had made its way into the city and the buildings seemed to take in the warmth around him. Marius kept walking, almost furtively looking at the Curia, where the Senate met. It was the place of power; he could feel it. Not as powerfully as the aura from the Emperor’s residence on Palatine Hill, but it was still palpable.

Marius stopped in the middle of the Forum, edging toward one of the massive marble columns. He glanced up at the statuary above and it glowered down at him. Marius felt a subtle chill in the hot, dry air. He felt that—and something else.

It was a subtle sensation, the feeling of scrutiny upon him. He knew it well, the sense that someone was watching him, taking in his motions and movements, keeping an eye upon him. It had been a constant at home, whether herding the animals under the eye of the old man or in town in the square, the sensation of eyes following his every move. Waiting for him to expose his madness or harm someone.

And here it was again.

He felt a surge of agitation deep within himself. A journey of weeks to come this far, and he still felt eyes upon him, watching his movement. He made a slow turn, trying to narrow down from whence the scrutiny came. He cast his glance through the arches of the Curia, past the Arch of Septimius Severus, where men in white robes conversed loudly, and finally around to the Temple of Saturn. Someone was lurking within the columns, not bothering to hide their presence.

Marius glanced at them furtively. There were two of them; a man and a woman, both stately in their way, lingering between the columns and looking at him. The white marble shone in the summer sun, causing Marius to squint as he stared back at them. They watched him unapologetically, not even bothering to hide. They seemed to be talking, though they were still at such a distance that he could not hear them speaking to one another.

The man started toward him, slowly. He held his hands out and open, as if to show that he meant no harm. Marius considered running; he was faster than anyone else he had met, and if he put his mind to it, he was certain he could outrun them both.

The woman followed behind the man a few paces, and he caught a hint of sourness on her face. She was striking and regal, though she still looked very young. Her dark hair was bound up at the back of her head, and her robes covered her adequately while revealing a full figure that Marius found … alluring.

The man was closing the distance between them now, and Marius felt a strange calm settle over him. He tried to resist, to remain alert and keep the option to run, but he felt it lull away.
They approach open handed, to show me good intentions. Perhaps they are friends …

He felt a bolt of alarm shatter the sense of peace that had fallen upon him.
I have no friends.

He felt the twitch of his muscles, his legs cry out to flee with all speed, but he kept a hand anchored to the column and let his fingers drift over the porous stone, as if he could take some strength from it. The man drifted to a stop only a few feet away—out of arm’s reach, Marius noticed. The woman stopped a few steps behind him, the lines that shaped her face moving it into an expression of impatience.

“Greetings,” the man said. “Welcome to Rome.”

“Thank you,” Marius said. He could still feel the call of his body, urging him to run.
Why would I stay to talk to a stranger? This is madness.

“You only just arrived, is that correct?” The man’s voice had a strange accent, a curious lilt that was a little different than what Marius had heard from the Romans he’d listened to since arriving.

“Yes,” Marius said. How did this man know that he’d only just arrived?

“I mean you no harm,” the man said. “My name is Janus, and this is my sister, Diana.”

Marius kept him under close watch as he spoke. He did not reply immediately; he felt almost fearful of giving away his name. But why? It was not as though this Janus could do anything with a mere name. “I am called … Marius.”

“It is a very great pleasure to meet you, Marius,” Janus said. His beard was thick and full and dark, not a hint of grey in it. His skin was tanned almost to the point of glowing, and as Marius looked at him he saw a sparkle in the man’s eyes that spoke of a good humor that Marius had never seen directed at him before. “I sense that you are in the midst of a very difficult transition, having come to Rome for the first time. I take it you are having some difficulty finding your place here?”

“I am not certain I have a place here—or anywhere,” Marius said with a little wariness. The woman—Diana—had yet to say a thing to him. Was that cause for suspicion?

“Many have felt just the same,” Janus said with a nod. He turned toward Diana as he spoke. “Is this not true, sister mine?”

She gave him a look of severe irritation that was plain even to Marius’s unstudied eyes. “This is true.” Her voice barely allowed for any emotion. “It is a city where the strong survive and the weak are hunted, flayed and enslaved.” There was a flash of anger in her eyes that was unmistakable. “As well you know.”

“As well we both know, I think,” Janus said, glancing at her. “It seems to me that Marius here is in the midst of Rome for the first time without help or idea of what to do next. We would be very poor hosts to allow him to wander about into the nets of whatever hunters might find him to their tastes.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Marius, and he felt himself quail before her, feeling as though she would run him down if he tried to flee. He actually flinched beneath her gaze. “He will last less than one more day on his own, that much is true. Jupiter or Alastor will catch up with him swiftly and he’ll be done.”

“It would seem to me that we should protect the lad,” Janus said, and he offered a smile to Marius that felt … oddly warm.

Diana’s nostrils flared and Marius only just kept from taking a step back at the hint of anger from the woman. “There is no ‘we’ in this. If you mean to make it your pet project to take in every spawn of Hades and Persephone out of some misguided effort to recapture what you lost—”

“Diana,” Janus said, and it was as though a veil fell over his emotions, “it would seem to me that Zeus has taught us both enough about his appetites and the misfortunes that fall upon those who oppose him. Perhaps we might aid someone—some prey—whom we see staggering toward that waiting trap, yes?”

Her expression became even more murderous, but she fell into a moment of silence. “Perhaps.”

Marius caught that same glimmer in Janus’s eyes again, as though he had won some hard-fought victory. Marius had felt that feeling himself once or twice, most memorably when he’d gotten the old man to let him stay in his barn. “I will take that perhaps as a yes, for I know it is all I will get from you,” Janus said. He looked at Marius and gave him a smile. “I know that things are most likely difficult for you. You left your home behind, afraid because of the secret you carry with you.” He pointed to Diana, then to himself. “We have felt much the same at points in our lives. Your burden is great, and I would … offer you assistance, if you would have it.”

Marius felt a hint of fear, all the talk of prey and hunters leaving him with a bad sense of what was coming.
No one helps me, not without reason. Why would they? And he says he knows about the secret I carry? How would such a thing be possible?
“Why?” he croaked out.

Janus pursed his lips, and looked once more to Diana, whose face softened and went expressionless. “Because,” Janus said, and he smiled, his face becoming warm as he looked back to Marius, “We are like you.”

Chapter 15

Sienna

Now

The sound of the first shots striking the metal sides of our SUV was followed an instant later by the squeal of tires as Reed slammed on the brakes. The noise of the rubber ripping at the freeway, trying to keep hold of the asphalt was nearly drowned out by the roaring of the guns to either side of us. I saw the vans pull half a car length ahead of us, the flash of the gun barrels hanging out the open doors casting tongues of flame at each other.

A crunching sound preceded the impact of a vehicle into our rear bumper by only milliseconds. My head jerked as I turned to see a third van slamming into us from behind, the driver’s eyes visible out the back window as it shattered.

Time seemed to slow down as my adrenaline kicked in. Shards of safety glass flew around me, twinkling in the light from the moon roof. I heard the engine gun again as Reed floored it, and the SUV struggled to cope with his urgent demand.

There was a moment’s silence from the vans in front of us, presumably while the drivers readjusted their aim to cope with the fact that we were no longer directly beside them. I wondered if Reed’s sudden slamming of the brakes had caused them to shoot each other. I hoped it had. Fervently.

The smell of smoking rubber filled the SUV, and I coughed once to clear it from my lungs. Grey smoke hung in the air around us. I could hear the whine of the tires against the highway again, even over the sound of crunching metal from behind us.

“MOVE!” I shouted at Reed. He did not bother to acknowledge me. It probably wasn’t even necessary, since he was already trying, but I couldn’t help but add my command. I could see movement behind the driver of the van that had smashed into us—the movement of men with guns. Their black tactical clothing was visible through the van’s broken windshield, and I pulled my pistol, a brand new Sig Sauer P227, from under my coat.

I fired, each stroke of the trigger filling our SUV with thunder that probably would have hurt my eardrums if my system hadn’t been flooded with adrenaline. I aimed carefully, painting the driver with a double-tap to the chest, then switching targets to the passenger as our car jerked back into motion. With the strength of Wolfe coursing through me, helping to hold my weapon steady, I could barely even feel the .45’s recoil.