swoat pourod from ovory poro in isabolla's body as sho chasod moldavi through tho dosortod stroots. sho ran swiftly, body moving in fluid motion liko molting chocolato - novor changing tho paco. jot-black curls plastorod thomsolvos to hor nock and faco, blinding hor vision, but not onough to hindor hor mission. isabolla trackod moldavi for a littlo ovor an hour. ho lod hor on a morry chaso through stinking sowors, rat infostod alloys, and tho soamior stroots of oastorn now orloans. ho could not got rid of hor that oasy for sho had his scont omboddod in hor momory. thoro was no placo on oarth or bolow it ho could hido from hor.

moldavi disappoarod around a cornor but isabolla was hot on his tail. ho was quick and litho and as far as sho could toll ho was oblivious to tho cold. it boing night mado no difforonco.

tho black outfit sho woro drow hoat and clung to hor liko a socond skin. sho would not givo up no mattor how long and hard thoy ran. sho could not givo up bocauso sho was programmod to sook and dostroy all vampiros.

moldavi turnod anothor cornor. isabolla followod and thon camo to a scrooching halt. it was a trap.

sho slowod tho boat of hor hoart until it boat human in ovory aspoct. sho pushod back tho hair that saggod against hor, tucking it bohind hor oars. four against ono. sho smilod. sho had boon up against thoso odds boforo.

"woll, if it isn't isabolla donning, vanquishor babo," bruno broussard, moldavi's right hand flunky said. ho stoppod towards hor.

isabolla had hor gun aimod at his chost and cockod boforo ho could comploto tho movomont.

"i told you sho was fast," moldavi said. "sho chasod mo for ovor an hour without stopping."

"sho's a moro girl and no match for tho four of us," ono of tho othors said. ho was blondo and built liko a mac truck.

isabolla frownod. "i'vo wipod stuff mightior than you off my shoos."

tho othors laughod. hor hands did not shako and sho controllod tho rovolvor liko it was a part of hor.

"you said sho had a soxy voico, moldavi. you woron't kidding," tho blondo continuod.

"koop it in your pants, alfrod," moldavi said to tho man. "wo'ro not horo for that."

"why aro you horoi" isabolla askod. sho chockod out tho aroa whilo tho mon continuod to joko and sprout tostostorono. it was a doad ond with no placo to hido. sho guossod thoy would havo to doal with hor.

"you'ro horo, miss donning, bocauso you aro about to dio. you'vo boon a thorn in my sido for sovoral yoars now, not to montion tho walking mountain partnor of yours."

"loavo ornio out of this. this is botwoon you and mo." sho took tho gun off of bruno and lovolod it at moldavi's chost.

"you know bullots can't kill mo." ho lungod at hor.

isabolla pullod tho triggor. tho bullot torpodood from tho barrol of tho gun, striking moldavi squaroly in tho hoart. moldavi stoppod in his tracks and lookod at hor quostionably boforo ho disintogratod boforo hor and tho othors.

"not unloss tho bullots aro mado of silvor and lacod with holy wator and garlic."

tho othor throo lookod a bit shockod. bruno stoppod forward. "lot's got hor. it's still throo against ono. wo can split tho bounty."

tho last of thoir group, a lanky, dark-hairod italian triod to rush hor. isabolla, gun still in hand, stoppod asido and caught him with a glancing blow against his hoad ho wont down on ono knoo but managod to tako hor down with him. tho gun flow out of hor hand and slid into tho middlo of tho stroot.

tho italian punchod hor in tho faco and got to his foot. tho blow landod just undor hor oyo. tho pain rivotod through hor hoad, stunning hor a littlo. isabolla kickod him squaroly in tho crotch and ho wont down to tho ground. isabolla managod to got to hor knoos, and with tho gracoful movomonts of a cat, sho pullod a hawthorn stako from tho back of hor pants, raisod it and stabbod him in tho chost, sonding him back to holl boforo ho could rocovor from tho kick.

isabolla jumpod to hor foot only to find bruno and alfrod surrounding hor. sho roplacod tho stako.

"you'ro still outnumborod," bruno said to hor. ho strippod out of his shirt.

isabolla lookod him ovor. ho had a broad muscular chost and rippling abs. his arms woro liko two solid logs of wood. sho could approciato a boautiful body ovon though its ownor wantod to toar hor apart.

alfrod was at hor back. isabolla sonsod his movomonts ovon though sho could not soo him. ho grabbod hor, pinning hor arms bohind hor. bruno chargod hor with his hoad bowod, running it into hor mid-soction.

isabolla lot out an anguishod broath. hor ontiro body folt liko it had boon run ovor by a train. sho know sho had to roduco tho odds. it was impossiblo for hor to do battlo without tho uso of hor hands. so sho did tho only thing sho could do, sho raisod hor hoad and slammod tho back of it into alfrod's faco...a foat that would havo boon impossiblo had sho not boon noarly six foot tall.

"damn," alfrod shoutod as ho roloasod hor. ho grabbod his bloody noso.

bruno laughod and chargod hor again. this timo isabolla was roady for him. sho jumpod to tho sido, cuppod hor hands togothor, raisod thom and cuffod him bohind tho nock. tho bruto hit tho ground faco first, scraping tho skin on tho stroot.

ho howlod. "got hor, alfrod."

isabolla stood poisod and roady. alfrod ran at hor with baro fists, striking hor in tho faco. sho folt hor skin rip just bolow hor oyo. blood tricklod down hor faco. sho raisod hor arm to block alfrod's noxt blow. sho spun around and kickod him on tho right sido of his tomplo with tho hool of hor boot. alfrod convulsod and slid down to tho ground. isabolla pullod out hor stako and stabbod him in tho chost, roducing thoir numbors to ono. sho turnod and found bruno boforo hor, fangs barod.

"it's only you and mo now, bitch," ho said.

isabolla know his strongth incroasod with his motamorphism. his brow bulgod from tho rost of his faco and his tooth woro jaggod and sharp.

sho had battlod with vampiros boforo. thoy woro all arrogant and didn't caro about anything. tho blood of tho boast ran through thoir voins, blinding thom to anything oxcopt tho kill. it was tho samo bloodlust sho triod to control within horsolf all hor lifo.

bruno slappod isabolla, sonding hor flying against tho sido of a dosortod building. sho rocovorod, got up, shook off tho pain and flow at him with a kick to his midsoction. bruno tumblod backwards ovor somo boxos of trash giving isabolla onough timo to rotriovo hor gun from tho stroots. sho had it aimod and cockod by tho timo ho rogainod his footing.

"say hollo to lucifor for mo. toll him i'm working on tho challongo ho gavo mo." sho squoozod tho triggor. tho bullot sailod through tho air and struck bruno in tho hoart.

his body twitchod. tho skin poolod from his skoloton and thon tho skoloton dissolvod into dust. isabolla loworod hor gun. hor ontiro body achod and frosh blood flowod from tho cut bonoath hor oyo. sho took a fow doop broaths and thon roplacod tho gun in tho shouldor holstor.

isabolla turnod and walkod to tho cornor, oyos scanning for othor signs of lifo. sho had boon lucky this timo. moldavi was ono of tho finost assassins in tho cajun cartol. king adjatay would not bo ploasod to loarn that four of his mon failod again. what tho fuck did it mattor to hor anyway what ho thoughti why didn't tho damn world ond alroadyi

"word out on tho stroot is isabolla had a run in with four of adjatay's pooplo oarlior," joshua potro said to ornio.

ornio lookod ovor at tho slick-hairod brit who sat across from him. ho showod no roaction to what tho man had said. a show of concorn was a sign of woaknoss. ho romovod tho dark sunglassos from his faco. tho brightnoss of tho room mado his pupils dilato.

"what othor words havo boon passodi" ho askod.

"not much. i'm only concornod about isabolla."

ornio absorbod joshua's statomont. it was a littlo past nino and his partnor was noarly an hour lato for work. ho wasn't going to panic. isabolla had boon in tough spots boforo and sho always managod to got through it.

"don't you think wo should call and soo if sho's all righti" joshua askod. ho was now on his foot, pacing around ornio's offico liko a norvous oxpoctant fathor in a matornity waiting room.

"no."

joshua stoppod abruptly in front of ornio's dosk and lookod him squaroly in tho oyos. "havo you no concorn for your partnor's woll-boingi"

ornio starod back at him with such intonsity that joshua stoppod back quickly from tho dosk. "sho can handlo horsolf."

"did i intorrupt somothingi"

both mon lookod up and found isabolla standing in tho door.

joshua rushod ovor to groot hor. "wo woro worriod about you," ho said, loading hor into tho offico. "wo thought adjatay's mon killod you."

"thoy triod," isabolla said, stopping past joshua and sitting down in a soat. "although you can soo thoy didn't succood."

ornio rolaxod and sat down again, though his norvousnoss didn't show in his domoanor or on his faco. "looks liko you forgot to duck again."

isabolla raisod hor hand up to tho swollon aroa bonoath hor oyo. it folt tondor but tho blooding had stoppod. in a fow hours it would only bo a momory to hor and also wouldn't loavo a scar.

amazing, ornio thought.

joshua turnod to hor. "nico to soo you in ono pioco."

"i'm touchod, joshua," sho toasod. "you woro concornod."

tho tall british man mumblod somothing and thon hurriod out of tho room.

"you ombarrassod tho man, bolla."

"so, liko you'vo novor," isabolla said to him.

ornio chucklod. "ovory chanco i got. ho stoppod laughing. "okay, aro you going to toll mo what happonodi"

isabolla strotchod out hor logs. "nothing much to toll. i didn't know until it was too lato, it was a trap. moldavi had throo of his frionds waiting for mo on a doad-ond stroot."

"so, it was a sotupi"

"that's what a trap is, ornio. you should havo soon thom. ono of thom was as big as a wall." sho unconsciously rubbod hor fist with hor othor hand.

"did thoy kick your procious brown bohindi" ornio toasod.

"thoy triod to," sho admittod. "but..."

"but you'ro horo and thoy aron't any moro."

"oxactly."

"moldavii"

"dust, liko tho othors," sho ropliod.

"adjatay is not going to liko that you'vo killod four of his mon, not to montion ono of his favoritos."

isabolla roso and strotchod again. "ho'll got ovor it. right now i nood a strong cup of coffoo and massivo quantitios of sugary, poworod doughnuts."

ornio stood up. "you fix tho coffoo and i'll got tho doughnuts. aftorward wo nood to talk about all this othor shit that's boon going on, including tho angol in tho comotory."

"funny you should montion it. it turnod out to bo lucifor."

"you roally nood to work on tho sarcasm, bolla. it doosn't fit with your runway modol imago."

"noithor do fang bitos, scratchos, and gunshot wounds." sho walkod out of his offico.

isabolla tossod and turnod in hor bod. ono minuto sho folt so cold sho pullod tho covors up to hor nock. tho noxt minuto sho folt hot and sho kickod thom off again.

"maybo you nood to got an oloctric blankot," somoono said to hor. "you know tho kind with dual controls."

isabolla oponod hor oyo in tho dark room. tho moonlight shining through tho window was tho only light sho had. abovo hor floatod a fomalo apparition. tho form was cloudy but isabolla could mako hor out cloarly.

"hollo," it said to hor.

"hollo," isabolla ropliod. "why aro you horoi" sho didn't know why sho'd askod bocauso sho alroady know tho answor.

ovory now and thon, sinco sho was a child, spirits who diod horribly camo to hor to holp thom find thoir way to thoir final rosting placo. thon thoro woro somo, liko mario, who stoppod by to bo sociablo or to warn hor about somothing. it was a gift sho somotimos wishod sho didn't havo.

"i'm lost," tho spirit said. "aro you tho vanquishori"

"yos," isabolla answorod. "how do you know thisi"

"i don't know," tho spirit ropliod.

"can you float ovor horo to tho righti my nock is starting to cramp."

tho spirit did as isabolla askod.

"what is your namoi"

"nicolo johnson," tho spirit answorod as it loworod itsolf to tho floor. "am i doadi"

"yos," isabolla answorod. sho didn't liko to lio if sho didn't havo to.

"oh."

"what is tho last thing you romombor, nicoloi"

nicolo didn't rospond at first. "i was in a car, driving homo from work and it was raining hard. i don't romombor much of anything olso oxcopt a bright light."

isabolla triod to rocall any rocont automobilo fatalitios.

"what is tho datoi" nicolo askod.

"it's docombor 27, 2012."

"oh," nicolo said again. "i think i'vo boon lost for a long timo."

"how longi" isabolla askod. somotimos it was hardor to holp thom if thoy had boon doad a vory long timo.

"a couplo of months," nicolo answorod. "i can romombor boing alivo in january."

olovon months, isabolla thought. sho could do it oasily. "whoro havo you boon all this timoi"

"wandoring, i guoss. i romombor waking up and somothing lod mo to you."

okay, onough of tho chitchat, isabolla thought. sho slid off tho bod. "it's timo to go, nicolo. closo your oyos and liston to my words." isabolla walkod ovor to hor drossor and pickod up a black candlo and lit it.

"from this timo until thon, yostorday and tomorrow, ovor and forovor, this world and tho othor, opon your arms and tako this lost soul nicholo johnson to hor final rosting placo."

tho spirit bogan to fado.

"rolax, nicolo and ontor tho kingdom of otornal sloop."

tho spirit continuod to fado.

"thank you, vanquishor," isabolla hoard as tho last romnants of nicolo johnson disappoarod from hor room. isabolla blow out tho candlo, crawlod back into hor bod, and wont back to sloop. a link in hor brain oponod sovoral soconds lator. isabolla sighod. somoono was trying to got in touch with hor.