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“Start reading Pindara,” He placed the envelope back in my hands. “You don’t have much time; I’m sending you tomorrow.”

That was three days ago and I still couldn’t comprehend the boss’s decision to send me here, alone.
I glanced at my watch; one hour until the assassination attempt. At that thought panic swelled inside me. But panicking wouldn’t help the situation. I took a few calming breaths, found my center and focused on the contents of my assignment package. I visualized the map and I chided myself for not brining it. Think! Picture the map, the route. Where do you need to be?
A clear vision of the map unfolded in my mind. The route lay out before me as if I were watching a moving picture. The road to the town hall, the path to save the

Archduke, I could see it all in my head and I knew where to go. But if my calculations were correct I had a big problem; the town hall is at least fifteen miles away. I wouldn’t make it in time if I walked at a normal human pace. I need to borrow, okay maybe I needed to steal, a motor vehicle if I had any hope of reaching my target in time.
I crawled out from the comforting shade, stood up tall and took a good look around while I decided my next move. The sound of a vehicle coming to a stop caught my attention. A few blocks down the street, a vehicle had pulled up along a row of stately townhomes. A young couple and three small children emerged from the vehicle. The children instantly started a game of cat and mouse with their mother on the sidewalk. She did her best to corral them but it appeared to be an impossible job. No sooner would she catch one when another would break away and begin the chase again. The man fared no better. He could hardly see his own feet over the tall stack of parcels he held. It was all he could do to not trip over his own children. I felt glad not to be in their shoes. Demons are easy, children, not so much.
Serendipity. I thought to myself as a smug smile formed on my face.
I approached the family from across the street. Clearing my throat to announce my presence, I attempted to recall my best Serbian. “Excuse me sir? Can you tell me how to reach the town hall?”
The man and his wife eyed me suspiciously. I tried not to look nervous; my Serbian was pretty lousy and I hoped I had actually asked for the town hall and not the town bar. The woman gave me a look of disgust. I’ve seen that look before. She obviously regarded me as riff-raff. Not that I could blame her, a soul tracker’s uniform—drab and black—did nothing to denote one’s station in life. And my big black bag I had to carry didn’t help the look either. No to mention, most women simply do not go out in pants.
The man final spoke up after his wife turned her attention back to the children. “You need to go north about fifteen miles. You should see the sign for Appel Quay Road, turn right there. The town hall is just past the Latin Bridge.”
“Thank you, um... that’s very nice of you...” I stammered slowly as I tried to stall for my next move.
An ear-splitting scream interrupted my scheming. The smallest child, attempting to keep up with her siblings, had run up the stairs of their home and fell. She lay there in a heap on the stairs as her brother and sister denied any wrong doing. The man dropped his packages to the street and ran over to the hurt child, quickly scooping her up into his arms.
Behind him, his wife began to collect the discarded packages as she ordered the other children inside.
I glanced back to the vehicle and could see that it had not been closed up. With no time to hesitate, I bolted into the car. Without as much as a glance around, I slammed my foot on the accelerator and took off. Behind me I could hear them yelling but what was a little auto theft in comparison to saving the lives of millions?

I found Appel Quay Road, and just as the man said, the Latin Bridge. The area was already congested with people vying for a good spot. I knew I couldn’t reach the town hall in my borrowed vehicle; I would have to park and reach it on foot. I drove down a few more blocks until I found a parking space. Once parked, I immediately got out of the car and took a very deep breath, closed my eyes and waited for some personal divine intervention to come to me-it didn’t. Well that figures, I think all the while feeling a bit let down, alone and helpless. My senses were all that I had.
I slowly opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. With this large of a crowd, it would be impossible to detect a single aura, even the ones that were black as pitch. I used my sense of smell. The air, stagnate from the heat and humidity, would concentrate the scents in the air. I took in a deep breath of thick air and chocked. Sulfur—I could smell it, taste it hanging in the thick air. They were already here. Times up, I thought, get moving.
Security is pretty tight around the parade route; unfortunately the police don’t have the weapons to fight demons and Otherkins. Guns and normal bullets can sometime kill a lesser demon and it will kill an Otherkin, but that helps no one. You have to capture the Otherkin’s soul, or the demons win.
Only a soul trackers arsenal could take care of this job. And so, as stealthy as possible, I gather my black bag of weapons from the stolen vehicle and begin to arm up.
I slid my holster on first and adjust the straps tightly. Reaching back inside my bag I felt around for my iron rod—the only tool we had to collect bad souls. The rod had to be packed in a dismantled state due to its long length. Putting the rod together now would be easier than after I found the Otherkins so I screwed the two pieces of the rod together, then fastened the chalice on the top. I slid the rod into the criss-cross of my gun holster and patted my leg for my knife, just where I always kept it. Pulling out my long black duster, I gave it a shake before I slipped it on, making a mental note to petition a change of uniforms from black to white. I grabbed my two handguns and slid them into the holsters under my jacket. Lastly, I grabbed a handful of salt brackish to store any damaged souls in, if in fact I did have to kill someone. God, please don’t make me kill anyone today, I prayed silently as I reached inside my shirt, pulled out my cross and gave it a gentle kiss.
Once I stepped into the large crowd, I knew I’d spot the Otherkins eventually. Their rotting souls held no auras, just a tumultuous black smudge that pulled at their bodies and beckoned them to join the demons in hell. And if the human could see what we see, they would see that their flesh was actually rotting away from their bones. Rot, that’s what they looked like and that’s how they smelled, like the decay of man.
Knowing what a bad soul looks like is part of the deal when you’re a tracker. I’ve seen hundreds in my first year alone. I’m so accustom to them now that I can spot them from blocks away, but that didn’t prepare me for what lay before me—hundreds. I felt the bile creep up into my mouth. I spited out the yellow film from my mouth while I debated how the demons could have managed to gather so many Otherkins—much more than we had suspected. But I couldn’t even recall another time the demons had gathered so many and for what, the assassination of one man?
I needed to keep my head on straight and think logically. I didn’t need to take them all on; I would only need to find one, the assassin that would have the best advantage to kill the Archduke. But that seemed an impossible task given the situation. I wouldn’t be able to move around freely much longer; the police would cut off access around the street once the Archduke’s motorcade made it to the parade route.
Keeping my head low, I pushed forward into the crowd determined to find the one I needed. Spine chilling shivers ran down my body every time I walked past an Otherkin. My nerves were raw and I had to bite down on my lip to squelch the screams that threatened to escape.
I kept going until the small bridge lay before me and still no one appeared to be the obvious choice. At this point I had only one option left; I would just have to stop the Archdukes’ vehicle from crossing the bridge. Once the vehicle made it to the other side, there would be too many places to lose them. And then it dawned on me, the Otherkins wouldn’t want the vehicle to reach the other side either; there were too many places for the envoy to hide. The assassin would need to be close; he had to be by the bridge, by me.
I just needed a distraction, something to keep the vehicle from driving over that bridge. If I inserted a bullet inside one of my salt crystals, I could lay it on the road and when the first car of the motorcade drove over it, as small explosion would go off. That would give me the time I needed to take down the assassins.
I moved away from the bridge and back into the crowd all the while, holding back the urge to run away screaming anytime I dared to look up into the faces of the Otherkins that surrounded me. I knew it would be a matter of time before they discovered me and being out numbered, would kill me before I could stop them.
But to my amazement, I managed to keep my wits and not panic and the Otherkins took no notice of me. I grew more confident as I passed each Otherkin, looking for the one that would become my target. From my vantage I could see six Otherkins that could make the kill, but my money was on the assassin by the bridge. He was well hidden in the trees and brush that surrounded the bridge and he was far enough outside the crowd that he could run away after the panic ensued. It would be him, I knew it.
I made my way through the crowd and returned the street. Grabbing a salt crystal and a bullet from my coat pocket I quickly assembled my bomb, dropped it on the ground and turned to hunt down the assassin. Determined to complete my mission, I marched forward, wrapping my hands around the pistol under my coat and pulled both guns out as I approached the Otherkin.
From behind me, I could hear a vehicle approaching. I turned and saw the Otherkins targets—the Ferdinand’s.
With my fears fading, I confidently cocked the trigger on my guns, held my target in sight and stretched out my arms to take the kill shot. The sight of my arm
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