The blurred shape of another man moved across her.
Rays of moonlight shone over his form: glinting blue-black hair, pale face, a lean and lithe frame, a smudge of a forest-green doublet, tall leather boots, the flash of steel.
Saturnino dei Luni.
The second attacker spun, jaw sagging. But he recovered quickly and lunged forward, driving a hard punch. Saturnino’s face whipped to the left, and he spat silvery-blue liquid from out of his mouth. It speckled the cobblestone, glinting in the moonlight like fallen gemstones.
Ravenna gasped. She had never seen— Madonna, what washe?
Saturnino wiped his jaw with the billowy sleeve of his tunic, tipped his head back, and laughed. The hair on Ravenna’s arms stood on end. The noise didn’t sound human. Her attacker sensed the change in Saturnino, and he stiffened.
But then he lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Saturnino’smiddle, and slammed him backward against the stone wall. A terrible noise rent the air, like pillars crumbling in a long-forgotten temple.
Saturnino chuckled, low and soft.
The sound enraged her attacker; he threw a punch, and then another, but on the next, Saturnino caught his fist and squeezed. The man howled, jumping backward. He shook his hand, frantic, as if trying to make it work again. He glared at Saturnino, rushed toward him—
A knife flashed in Saturnino’s hand. He pivoted smoothly on his feet, avoiding the punch, then lunged with a vicious jab of his blade. It sank into her attacker’s stomach. Saturnino twisted the handle with a primordial snarl. Her attacker slumped to his knees, clutching at his gut. Blood spilled onto his hands, dripped onto the stone. Saturnino kicked him, and the man fell over.
Then he turned a quick circle to face Ravenna, his knife at the level of her heart. He advanced on her, and she stumbled backward until she was pressed against a stone wall, the rough surface scraping against the back of her cloak.
Saturnino glared at her, fury and betrayal stamped across his countenance. Slowly, he used the tip of his blade to push her hood up and over her head. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, while her heart thundered wildly between her ribs. He nodded, a subtle dip of his chin, as if he were accepting the inevitable. The line of his mouth curved into a sneer.
He moved the blade lower, angled it against her throat.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Saturnino,don’t.”
His dark eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Why shouldn’t I?”
Her voice cracked. “I’m unarmed.”
He stared at her, and his resigned expression tore at her. He was an executioner exacting punishment with an inhuman nonchalance that chilled her through. “That’s not exactly true, is it, Ravenna? I saw what you did to him.”
“Saturnino,” Ravenna whispered, trying to find an ounce ofempathy. Of compassion. But his expression was detached, remote. He wasunfeeling.“You have more honor than this.”
“You really think someone like me could be honorable?” he repeated flatly.
She nodded, calm. “I hope that you can be.”
“Honor and hope,” he said. “What a thing to put your faith in.”
At first, it sounded like he held her in contempt, but there was the smallest hint of desolation in his tone.
“It’s better than not having any faith at all.” Ravenna placed a soft hand against her rapidly beating heart. “You ought to at least have faith in yourself.”
Privately, she added:Unlike me.
His fingers curled harder around the hilt of his weapon. “Tell me, Samaritan, what are you doing out here?”
Ravenna glanced at her attackers. One was a skeletal husk and the other lay still—but she could tell he was awake. Saturnino looked over his shoulder, following her line of sight. He made an exasperated noise at the back of his throat before striding away from Ravenna. She exhaled, pressed her palm hard to her throat. No blood. She glanced down the street. Her earlier thoughts rang back at her.
She could make it if she ran.
“Go ahead, Ravenna,” Saturnino said, with half a glance over his shoulder. “Run and see how far you can make it.” His smile was mean. Heartless. “You won’t make it to the end of the block before I fucking catch you.” Then he yanked the injured man up to his feet, got close to his face with another snarl.
Ravenna flinched at his tone, at his language. No one in her life spoke that way. It shocked her, as much as witnessing the current of anger rippling through him.
Saturnino’s voice was low and cruel. “Do you know who I am?”
