Page 9 of She Who Was Once the Sea

"Hey!" I shouted. Unfortunately, my voice was not as steady as my anger would prefer, and my voice was lost among those of the assembled crowd.

Across from me, I saw Lucas emerge as well. He rolled his eyes when he saw the man, then quickly caught my eye, once again nodding at me to follow my instincts.

We weren’t police, but because of our clothing, people tended to treat us as authority figures. I could only hope that these men were stupid enough to do so as well.

"Hey!" I repeated, louder and more clearly this time. "That’s enough."

This time, it seemed that my voice did register with the man in the fountain. At first, he simply glanced towards me, head pivoting back towards his friends after a brief acknowledgment.

Then he did a double take. And his face broke into an even wider shit-eating grin.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed through a laugh.

I knew it was the robes, but I didn’t care.

"I said, that’s enough." I stepped towards the fountain until my legs were touching its rim, trying my best to look towering and intimidating. Lucas followed suit from the other side of the crowd. Slowly, a still quiet fell upon the space like a ripple, the sounds of hushes and sssshhhhh moving backwards in a wave, sprinkled with whispered recognition.

It’s the Fratelli, a few voices explained. I kept my attention trained on the man in the fountain. His hand still hadn’t vacated the siren’s breast, and something about that fact made me somehow even more irrationally angry.

"It’s time to walk away," I said firmly, lowering my voice to reflect the newfound quiet.

The man’s smile stayed in place. "Who the hell is this guy?" His head swiveled back and forth between his friends and me. A couple of them had quietly put their phones away and were looking down at their feet as if chastised. The rest kept filming, laughing at my perceived audacity as heartily as their obnoxious leader.

"He’s right," Lucas chimed in. Like marionettes, the men’s heads whipped towards him in unison. "It’s time to leave."

Maybe it was the robes. Maybe it was the sudden silence that had fallen around him. But this time, the man’s confidence seemed to waver. His Adam’s apple bobbed once with a deep swallow. More of his friends slowly lowered the hands holding their phones, placing them surreptitiously into their pockets.

Unfortunately, his bravado didn’t take its cue from his brain.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" the man shouted. But he finally, finally lowered his hand from the statue, and I felt the pull of tension leave my body, at least for a moment.

"It doesn’t matter who we are," Lucas answered, smirking in a cocky manner that reflected the man’s arrogance back at him. "We’re telling you to get the fuck out of here."

Something in Lucas’s voice seemed to make the air in the piazza shake. Low and calm, he evoked a silent threat like a promise. I took a mental note to ask him for lessons, because holy shit.

The next time the man spoke, he sounded far less confident. "And if I don’t?"

"We can involve the police if you’d like," I answered this time, watching with amusement as their heads once again moved in tandem to find me. "But that’s the easier option for you."

Then, casually, I moved my hands into the pockets of my black pants. Doing so necessitated pushing my robes behind my arms, so that my belt—and all of its attachments—was visible, just for a moment.

The movement had its desired effect. The man’s eyes caught on the gleaming reflection of my dagger, and his face paled. Across the way, Lucas’s smirk remained in place as he did the same, flashing the weapon for only half a second before it was shaded once again by his robes.

"What’ll it be?" I asked, tossing him a smile of my own. "I’m sure someone here will run to find the police on your behalf, if you’d like."

Slowly, and with more ego than I would have expected, the man finally began to retreat from the statue, shoving his hands into his pockets as he did so.

"Whatever, man," he scoffed as he waded through the shallow water. "I was going to leave anyway."

He hopped out of the water beside me and made no effort to prevent it from splashing onto my dark robes. He didn’t apologize, and as he turned to walk back to his friends, smirk still firmly in place despite the pallor of panic twisting the corners of his lips, I reached out and grabbed his arm, just above his elbow, in a vise-like grip.

I reveled in his flinch and the small sound of fear that escaped his lips.

"I suggest you learn the history of the places you visit," I whispered, low enough for only him to hear. "A threat from the Fratelli is not idle. And you’d be wise to behave while you’re in our city." His frightened eyes found mine, the smirk finally falling from his face. "You can’t do anything to me," he squeaked.

"Oh, but we can." I grinned. "Now run along like a good boy, and don’t let me catch you defiling this place again."

I released my grip on his arm just as he attempted to pull away from me, and the sudden absence of tension sent him toppling to the ground at my feet. Around us, the crowd chortled and cheered, snickering as he scrambled back to his feet and walked, fully shamed, back towards his friends.