The bar was quiet for the hour, the sort of lull that settled between the breakfast crowd and the first wave of lunch drinkers. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, cutting pale shafts across polished wood and the faint haze of last night's smoke. Somewhere in the back, a fan clattered with each rotation, fighting the humidity that always lingered this close to the bay.
Diana sat in the corner, fingers curled around a half-empty glass. The liquor barely bit anymore, but it gave her something to focus on besides the steady drip of frustration gnawing at her. Augustine had been a waste of time. Foshan, so far, was worse.
Every father they'd spoken to told the same story, different words, same hollow eyes. No witnesses. No sounds. A child had gone between the last bell and the turn of a key in the front door. She'd begun to taste the same bitterness in every cup she'd ordered since.
The only tangible lead they'd brought from Emporio had come from Markus Galloway, pried out of him in screams and whimpers when Jacob went to work. The disciple of Olympia had been stubborn at first, but pain had a way of peeling back conviction. Even so, they never got a straight answer, if the church was involved, only his desire to have three of his clergymen assassinated inside the church building.
Castiel was already headed to the capital, wearing Markus's face and voice. His skill Doppelganger cost him his original voice but allowed him to imitate someone seamlessly enough to fool any family with every mannerism of the original. If anyone could slip into Olympia's inner circle and survive the lies there, it was him.
But here in Foshan, the trail was cold, and patience was running thin.
Across from her, Rosa was leafing through a small notepad, her eyes flicking to the entrance whenever the door creaked. Her calm made Diana's teeth itch. Calm meant waiting. Waiting meant more time for another family to find an empty bed where their child should be.
Then a voice cut through the low murmur of the room, low, rough, and carrying just enough force to be heard above the clink of glass.
"…easy money. Just keep 'em quiet and unharmed. That's all."
Diana's gaze sharpened instantly.
An older man lounged at a table near the bar, posture loose, but his eyes sharp. His shirt was white, patterned with red dragons that wound up each sleeve in intricate curls, the silk catching the light when he shifted. He leaned forward, lowering his voice only enough to make it worth straining for.
"The client doesn't care what you do otherwise. If the cops get nosy, he'll sort it out. No questions."
The younger man with him hesitated, tugging at the cuff of his navy hoodie. "…and the pay?"
A small smile pulled at the older man's mouth. "Enough to keep you from asking twice."
Diana tilted her head slightly toward Rosa, not taking her eyes off the pair. She didn't need to speak; Rosa's glance was enough to confirm she'd heard every word.
Goods that need to be kept quiet. A client who can erase trouble. Exactly the kind of rot Markus's silence hinted at, Diana thought.
The younger man eventually nodded. "Alright. I'm in."
They stood, pushing their chairs back with a scrape that seemed far too loud in the otherwise soft air.
The older man paid in cash.
Rosa noticed he didn't count it, and the two headed out the door into Foshan's sunlit streets.
"Let's go," Rosa murmured, already sliding from her seat.
The streets outside smelled faintly of brine and steamed dumplings, a blend of the bay's salt and the morning's street vendors. Wooden signs creaked overhead, painted with faded red calligraphy, and rickshaws rattled past on uneven stone. They followed at a measured distance, just another pair of pedestrians among many.
Diana's focus was on their quarry's gait. The older man moved with a kind of loose confidence, the sort that came from knowing you could handle trouble before it even reached you. Her instincts prickled.
Halfway down a narrow side street, he slowed. The younger man said something Diana couldn't catch, but whatever it was, the older one only smirked and gestured toward an alley. They stepped in together.
Rosa's eyes narrowed. "He knows."
"Knows?" Diana murmured, scanning the narrow opening.
"He's a Specter," Rosa said flatly. "Feels like one. Circle around, if he's lying in wait, you'll cut off the other end."
Diana didn't argue. She could already feel the faint shift in the air. She slipped into a side lane, boots hitting the wall as she pushed herself upward. Her hands found the brick edges easily, and she scaled the narrow gap between two buildings in quick, silent bursts. At the top, the wind from the bay brushed past her, carrying the distant clamor of the docks. She vaulted the roof, landing in a low crouch, and crossed to the alley's far end.
Below, the older man stood alone, leaning casually against the wall as if waiting for a friend. His eyes, however, were fixed squarely on the shadows where Rosa would emerge.
'So he did smell us out, ' Diana thought, her grip tightening. 'Good. Let's see if he's as dangerous as he thinks he is'
Raising her hands, she extended her index finger and middle fingers, tucking the others in. She then interlaced her hands as her spiritual energy spread out, sealing the Alley from outside interference.
Rosa stepped into the alley, the sunlight behind her casting a long, sharp shadow on the worn brick. She slid her glasses off with deliberate slowness, tucking them into her jacket.
The man leaned lazily against the wall, the corner of his mouth curling as he let out a low whistle.
"Well now," he drawled, eyes sweeping over her. "If you wanted to come home with me, sweetheart, you could've just asked. I'd be happy to… entertain you."
Diana, perched on the edge of a rooftop just beyond his sight, clenched her jaw.
Rosa didn't so much as flinch at his words. Her gaze stayed steady, her tone level. "Why didn't you run?" she asked. "Do you not fear death?"
The man gave a scoffing laugh, rolling his shoulders. "Fear? From a woman like you? I've got nothing to be afraid of."
Arrogant. Or stupid. Maybe both, Rosa thought, feeling the steady hum of her own Spiritual energy coiling in her chest. She let the silence stretch for a beat longer, just long enough to feel him sink into his overconfidence.
"Is that so?" she murmured.
In an instant, the air shimmered faintly around her hands, and two full-tang machetes materialized with a sound like steel being drawn from its sheath. Each one was 18.8 inches in length and sharpened edge, glinting as light caught on the blades.
The man's eyes narrowed. He let out a low whistle, this time not for her beauty but in genuine acknowledgement.
"Those look...dangerous," he muttered, smirking.
But the shift in his stance betrayed his sudden caution.
With a flick of his wrists, a pair of pistols appeared in his hands. He moved without hesitation.
The alley exploded with sharp cracks as he pulled the triggers in rapid succession. In response, Rosa's arms moved fluidly, her blades catching each round with perfect precision.
CLINK …. CLANK …. CLINK
Sparks danced as the machetes deflected the incoming lead. Bullets clinking uselessly to the ground, rolling to a stop.
The man froze for a heartbeat, his smirk faltering into disbelief.
He hadn't expected her to be able to block his raining bullets.
Watching his expression, Diana's pulse quickened from above. She saw her opening.
Dropping from the rooftop like a shadow, her body twisted midair as her boot cut a sharp arc aimed at the side of his head.
But before her roundhouse kick could connect, the man's head tilted, not from the strike but to look directly at her. His grin returned with a predator's delight.
Her boot passed through empty space as his from flickered and reappeared behind her just as she landed.
"Dammit," she hissed, sensing danger. She pivoted. Her body leaned forward instinctively, and in the next instant, the air above her head was torn by gunfire.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Using the momentum of her forward motion, whipped a powerful kick backwards into his torso. The impact reverberated through her leg as she felt the give of his ribs before he slid back. His boots skidded on the pavement.
Looking up, he had little time to steady his breathing before Rosa struck from above with her blades. Reacting quickly, he was able to block her overhead strike with the barrels of his guns.
As metal grinded against metal, Rosa spoke
"Feeling like surrendering yet?"
Ignoring her words, his face turned grim as he felt a chill travelling through his hands. His voice became strained as he increased his output, reinforcing his arms and pushing Rosa back with a shout.
"LIKE Hell! You bitch!"
But this left him wide open.
Diana surged forward, her boots slamming against the pavement. The world narrowed to the rhythm of her steps and the faint shift in his stance as he realized, too late, that she was already inside his guard.