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It happened fast, the two grabbed Rembert and spun him around

The taller of the two men put a knife to her cameraman’s throat, while the other produced a second knife and held it to his stomach. Rembert dropped his camera and flailed his arms up, but stopped moving when the one named Gaston jabbed the tip hard enough to draw blood.

“Stay still,” Gaston said.

Annja had been reaching for the sword in her mind, had felt the sensation of the pommel against her palm, but she left the blade hanging in the otherwhere.

“I told the kid the money is at the hotel.” Annja squinted through the driving rain, taking in Rembert’s panic. “I only have a few Euros with me. You can have them, but—”

“We don’t want your money, Annja Creed. We want your sword.”

His accent. Annja recognized Gaston. He was one of the gang she’d fought in Paris outside the old train station. He was one of the gang who’d fled before the police arrived. What was he doing here? Had he overheard her talking to Roux, telling him she was coming to this city for another episode of Chasing History’s Monsters?

“The sword! If you hand over the sword, we’ll let your friend live.”

City Of Swords

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