The Raven (The Florentine #1)(37)

Owing to her smaller size, she was able to buy clothes off the rack and quickly spent several hundred euros on the essentials. She even bought a few pieces of lingerie.

By the end of her shopping spree, she was dressed in a black linen sundress, a pale yellow cardigan, black wedge-heeled sandals, and extremely attractive pink underwear. She even bought a pair of large black sunglasses.

She threw her old clothes in the garbage.

The relic was not so easily hidden by the sundress and cardigan as it had been by her large button-down shirt.

She toyed with the idea of placing the necklace in her knapsack, but the intruder had been adamant she wear it. Given the strange events that had befallen the Emersons, and the reports of bodies found near the Arno, she decided that trading on someone else’s superstitions wouldn’t really harm anyone.

She bought a floral silk scarf and wound it around her neck in such a way as to cover the chain and cross, hoping no one would notice it.

Looking very chic and feeling more confident than she had ever felt, she bought a few groceries and a bottle of wine to take to dinner. Having deposited her purchases safely in her apartment, she drove the Vespa to Gina’s, very much looking forward to a relaxing evening with friends.

By the time Raven left her friends, it was after eleven. Their dinner had extended to drinks and dessert and an evening of conversation and music.

The skies had opened, pouring rain. As usual, there were still a few pedestrians and drivers on the slick streets. Everyone else had retreated indoors.

Or so it seemed.

Raven was glad she kept a long raincoat under the seat of her Vespa. She wore it as she drove, wincing at every drop of water that fell on her new sandals.

When she arrived at Santo Spirito, she discovered the piazza was empty.

Usually patrons sat outside the bar across from her apartment or at one of the cafés. The square itself was often filled with students. Several American universities had study-abroad programs that were housed nearby. But since the rain was falling heavily, the emptiness of the piazza was unsurprising.

She parked her Vespa and had just returned her helmet to the storage space beneath the seat when she heard something. The sound itself was strange, a cross between a growl and a roar.

She whirled around and saw something move at the far end of the piazza.

The falling rain partially obscured her vision and the dimness made it difficult to see. She could discern something large and black moving toward her.

As the figure approached, she realized it was too large to be a dog. It was moving quickly, its outline a blur against the rain.

She turned and tried to run, but her sandals slid on the slick cobble-stones and she fell. Hard.

When she came to her senses, she saw that the animal, which was now running on two legs, was bearing down on her. Snarls and growls echoed across the piazza as it drew nearer.

She tried to stand, her new shoes slipping beneath her. She could hear the animal approaching, its footfalls heavy in her ears.

She scrambled to her feet and was about to sprint toward her building, when she dropped her keys.

“Shit!” She bent to retrieve them just as the creature roared.

Chapter Fourteen

Raven expected the worst. She expected the thing—whatever it was—to crash into her.

She glared at the relic that swung from her neck. She didn’t have time to indulge herself in an “I told you so,” directed at the absent intruder. Silly superstitions had never done her or anyone else any good. They certainly weren’t helping her now.

She braced herself for impact, knowing it was too slippery to run.

There’s nothing I can do.

It’s going to kill me.

She heard sliding and scuffing, as if something had tried to come to a sudden and abrupt halt.

She turned her head just as the dark creature came to a stop several feet away. It roared and lunged toward her with its arms, but its feet did not move.

“Take that f*cking thing off! Take it off!” it bellowed, in Italian.

Raven peered through the falling rain at what she realized was a man. He was dressed in dark and dirty clothing, his hair long and matted. A stench filled her nostrils as he moved, as if he hadn’t been washed in a very, very long time.

What she noticed most were his eyes. They were very dark, as if the pupils had expanded to obliterate the whites of his eyes, giving him a strange, insectlike appearance. When he opened his mouth, he exposed a pair of fangs among broken, yellowed teeth.

She moved to run, and once again her ridiculous shoes slipped out from beneath her, landing her hard on her bottom.

The creature roared expletives, waving his arms and pacing back and forth. But he maintained his distance.

“You whore. Take that f*cking thing off,” he shouted. “I’ll rip your head off and drain your blood. I’ll f*ck you until you die. Take it off!”

Raven moved back, placing more distance between them as he continued to rant almost incoherently.

He started shrieking Latin profanities, which she barely understood. He described someone, a man, as a pedophile and a deviant. He said she was the deviant’s whore and that he was going to kill her.

But, strangely and inexplicably, he came no closer. He simply paced back and forth, like a lion in a cage, roaring and gnashing his teeth.

Raven righted herself and was prepared to flee into the house, when she heard footsteps. Someone was approaching from the direction of the church, which stood to their right.