They had just turned a corner when he felt it.
The prickle at the back of his neck. The one that came from being watched.
Viggo didn’t break stride and glanced casually at the window of a bakery they passed.
“Two men,” he murmured to Ginny. “The building across the road, twenty feet from our position. I think they’ve been tracking us since we left the cafe.”
“I noticed.” Her voice was equally low. “There’s another up ahead. Leaning against the gaslight, pretending to read a newspaper.”
Viggo spotted the man Ginny had mentioned. A heavyset figure in a brown coat, he was holding his newspaper at entirely the wrong angle for actually reading. He folded it and began walking in their direction.
“Suggestions?” Viggo asked quietly, tension oozing through his veins.
“The Naschmarkt is two streets east,” Ginny said calmly. “It’s crowded this time of day. Plenty of opportunities to lose unwanted companions.”
They continued walking at a casual pace, Ginny looping her arm through Viggo’s like they were on a pleasant afternoon stroll.
Viggo heard footsteps behind them.
The man ahead was already fifteen feet away and closing in.
Ginny steered him neatly into a narrow street. The buildings pressed close on either side, the shadows lengthening between the facades creating pools of darkness that would easily facilitate an attack.
There were three sets of steps following them now. Viggo felt their stalkers’ presence like a weight against his back. He could tell these weren’t common street thugs. They were trained and likely armed with more than just conventional weapons.
The Naschmarkt appeared ahead, a riot of colour and noise. Vendors hawked their wares from wooden stalls draped with awnings, their voices competing with the clatter of cart wheelsand the haggling of customers. The air was thick with competing scents, from spices and fresh bread to the metallic tang of raw fish packed in ice.
Ginny navigated the crowd easily, ducking between stalls and using the press of bodies to obscure their trail. Viggo stayed close, his bulk creating a path through the throng.
A gap appeared ahead. Ginny grabbed Viggo’s hand and ducked into a side alley so narrow they had to turn sideways to pass. It smelled of rotting vegetables and something fouler.
They emerged onto a courtyard that led to another street.
The market’s chaos faded behind them as they swiftly navigated the quieter neighbourhood.
“Did we lose them?” Ginny asked, slightly breathless as she looked over her shoulder.
Viggo couldn’t feel any immediate threat, nor the wrongness in the air that would indicate dark magic or hostile intent.
“For now.”
They took a circuitous route back to the hotel, doubling back twice and using every counter-surveillance technique they had learned in years of navigating hostile territory. By the time they reached the Kärntner Ring, the Brute was reasonably certain they hadn’t been followed.
“You know, you’re really good at this,” Viggo muttered as their hotel came into sight.
Ginny arched an eyebrow. “So you’re saying I’m not just a pretty face?”
Viggo sighed. “Just take the compliment.”
Solomon was waiting in the lobby, his posture deceptively casual.
“Trouble?” he asked quietly as they approached.
“We were followed from the coffee house,” Ginny confirmed. “Professionals. Three of them.”
Solomon’s expression darkened. “That was fast. We’ve barely been in the city a day.”
“Which means someone is watching for us specifically,” Viggo said stonily.
