Vito squinted his eyes as he gazed through a tinted window of a nondescript van at a looming figure purposefully crossing the road. The figure strode past Vito's target, and he released him from his focus, restarting his scanning of the area.

  It had been a week since Vito decided the tourist killer was likely in Borak's crew. Since then, Vito had set up renaissance on the five inns within the district. That meant five captains leading five different renaissance groups at five different locations. Naturally, the siblings made up three of the captains, and Vito chose Hades and took Valko up on his offer of assistance.

  There had been radio silence in the week since they started, and some, namely Jekio, were getting antsy. However, Vito stayed vigilant and hopeful that another murder attempt would happen at any moment. They had tagged the tourists among the various inns and pinpointed the likely targets after discovering another pattern - the murdered tourists were always relatively new to the district.

  Vito's men had subtly bugged the rooms of these potential victims with motion sensors. A camera would've been better, but Vito didn't want to risk alerting anyone.

  Vito's phone vibrated and he answered before the first ring. He said nothing, waiting for the person to speak first, as he often did. Though the heavy breathing gave him a good idea of who was on the line.

  "I'm bored," Jekio announced for possibly the millionth time that week. "Nothing's happening - as usual - but I was thinking I could go rough up Borak's boys and get some info. This one looks real fishy by his post, looking around all nervous like some farm mouse. I bet a little-"

  "Enough," Vito whispered sharply. His tone had an immediate effect on those in the van. The Crimson Tides members sat up straighter and did their best to look more alert. Sadly, his tone didn't have the same effect on his brother.

  "I'm just saying we've been watching buildings like those mad ass bird watchers and with nothing to show for it. It's past time for some action, brother."

  Vito noted the slight slur that accompanied each sentence. He imagined his brother lying in the back of a van nursing a bottle while his accompanying Crimson Tides companions didn't dare disturb him.

  "It makes sense that the murders are spaced out. It's so that they remain unpredictable and if anyone is on to them, they become restless and let their guard down, as you are doing now," Vito replied patiently. Even now, he kept his eyes locked on the inn doors. Two of Borak's men were stationed on either side and they were sharing a big bottle of what looked like rum.

  Jekio sighed loudly. "I'm not cut out for this waiting around stuff."

  Quite an understatement, Vito thought. "Just a little longer. If-"

  A loud beep echoed through the silent van and Vito promptly pressed out the phone and stood, looking frantically for the source of the sound. Each of the Crimson Tides had a rectangular device in their hand. These devices were linked to the motion sensors of each potential victim's room. One of the devices was now lit up with an amber orange around its edges and the Crimson Tide looked at it in shock.

  "What room number is that?" Vito demanded, slightly annoyed with the delayed reaction of his crew member.

  The man shrank under Vito's glare. "Room 75," he muttered hoarsely.

  "That's Holden, a dark-skinned male who comes back to the inn early in the morning escorted by a group of men," Vito recited from memory. "I didn't see anyone fitting that description. Did any of you?"

  Vito was greeted with a chorus of nos. That was all the confirmation he needed. He pulled the sliding van door open and hurried out of the van without looking back. He could hear the others scrambling to follow him, but he didn't wait.

  The streets were busy despite the after-midnight hour, which was a routine occurrence, and the reason Vito was comfortable setting up reconnaissance vans so close to the inn without them appearing out of the ordinary. There were multiple vehicles parked alongside the curb, and the white van Vito exited was especially inconspicuous as they were used to transport goods often and were parked in all sorts of odd places as a result.

  A break in the traffic happened almost immediately, allowing Vito to hurry across before his men could follow. He was already lost in his thoughts as he walked. It made sense that the person carried out the murders by lying in wait, instead of entering after their target. This provided less room for error.

  Borak's men only seemed to register Vito's deliberate approach when he was a couple of feet away from them. One stepped forward and eyed him with contempt. Vito had gone with a hood disguise and substituted his usual get-up so as not to risk being recognized if he had to step out of the van.

  Vito considered revealing his identity, but something about the man's standoff demeanor made him hesitate. It was clear to him that the man wasn't as drunk as his partner—if at all.

  "Can I help you?" the man asked with a frown, folding his arms across his chest in what he must've thought was an intimidating manner. With him coming into the light, Vito was now sure the man was indeed sober.

  "No, you can't. But maybe the workers inside can," Vito responded gruffly.

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  The man didn't back down, positioning himself so that he blocked the small curb, and the only way around him was to step in the road and go around. It was possible the man was just doing his job after being put on high alert by Borak, but certain factors alerted Vito that something was off.

  "I haven't seen you around here, and it's awfully late to be checking in," the man pressed on.

  Vito knew, even before his renaissance week, that people checked in around the clock readily, so it was evident this guy was making up excuses to stop him. The Crimson Tides finally made it across the street behind him, and just for a second, the man's muted gray eyes looked past Vito at the approaching crowd in confusion.

  Vito was trained to take advantage of much less.

  The man never saw the punch coming, which, added with Vito's full weight thrown behind it connecting with his jaw, resulted in him falling back to the floor with a loud thud. His partner, delayed by his overconsumption of alcohol, was only allowed a step in their direction before Vito drew his pistol and aimed it at his forehead.

  The bullets were Djirin - bullets encased in blessed gold, originally made for prehistoric flying beasts. If this man didn't want to have his skull blown apart, he'd behave. The man smartly stopped in his tracks and put his hands up in surrender.

  Vito's eyes drifted over the arriving Crimson Tides, and he realized that he didn't know the names of any of the five men or their capabilities to know who was most dependable. "Three of you stay here and monitor these two. Restrain the one on the ground. The remaining two follow me."

  The reception area of the inn was nothing impressive. There were a few seats against the wall and a staircase leading upward to the higher floors where the rooms were situated. A single middle-aged woman stood behind the receptionist desk, and she looked completely petrified by the sudden entry of a hooded Vito and two beefy men. She reached down under the desk where Vito knew a shotgun supplied by the Crimson Tides resided.

  The woman's eyes widened in recognition as Vito pulled back his hood. She opened her mouth, likely to quickly apologize, but Vito made a shushing gesture and she obeyed. He crossed the room tot he stairs with the two Crimson Tides on his heels. The creaking of the wooden stairs under his feet made him cringe, but he didn't bother trying to tiptoe. That would only alert anyone listening well enough that someone was trying to be quiet.

  He climbed the second flight of stairs, his memory pinpointing the exact location of room 75. As they walked down the hallway and passed doors with numbers gradually ascending to 75, Vito considered what the best strategy would be.

  Should he wait for the tourist to return and use him as bait to lower the intruder's guard? It was risky and required waiting for an unknown period of time. That gave a lot of time for something to go wrong.

  He decided against it just as they reached a wooden door with a metal plate that brandished the number 75 on its surface. He hesitated. They had prepared a key beforehand, but the usual procedure would be making someone else enter first in case of a sneak attack. That way, the leader wouldn't be taken out and would be able to launch a counter attack while the target was focused elsewhere.

  Vito looked at the two Crimson Tides solemnly. The older one who had experienced wrinkles and a bulldog face stepped forward with a nod. "I can go first."

  Vito gave him a pat on his shoulder. "Good man." Then he turned and drew his pistol while inserting the key. "However, no man will be unnecessarily sacrificed for my safety." Vito stepped into the dark room quickly, his senses immediately heightened under the weight of possible danger.

  He crouched forward, vaguely aware of the two Crimson Tides fanning out behind him. The room was small, but Vito couldn't yet make out much because of the overbearing darkness, and it was because his eyes hadn't yet adjusted that he never saw it coming.

  A sharp pain latched onto his left side as something sharp enough to penetrate stuck him right above his ribs. He reacted immediately, shifting his weight toward his attacker and clumsily throwing his body on top of him. The two landed in a heap alongside each other, and Vito had to bite down on his lip to avoid letting loose an unsightly whimper as a jolt of agony rocketed through his body on impact.

  Had they been alone, the odds were not in Vito's favor. However, the Crimson Tides members intervened quickly, jumping on Vito's attacker before he could recover. He was easily restrained - the man appeared to be thin and was no match for the two burly Tides. They clasped locia handcuffs, which were able to contain even werewolves' strength - around his hands and slammed him into a wall.

  One of the Tides started toward Vito, and he forced himself to stand on his own quickly. "Are you okay?" the older man asked with genuine concern.

  "Never been better," Vito said evenly, ignoring the stabbing pain that punctuated his movements. "He missed my lung."

  The man seemed hesitant to believe Vito, looking at his side doubtfully. Vito followed his gaze and realized that the dagger the man had used was still embedded in his side. "I'll remove it when there are bandages to staunch the bleeding," Vito said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Turn on the light," he added, if only to get the man's focus away from him.

  Vito's eyes burned as the light momentarily blinded him, which only helped to add to the shock when his eyes adjusted and he saw the face of his attacker. The man had a familiar frown - a bit too familiar. He was the spitting image of the man at the front with muted gray eyes, not in the way that Vito and Jekio had been, but with no difference in defining characteristics.

  It was unnerving.

  The man saw his discomfort and grinned. "You don't look so good," he said, nodding at Vito's wound.

  "I'm sure your perspective will change when I'm done with you," Vito growled. He considered beginning to question him right here, but the type of questioning required would make a mess in the room. Instead, he nodded at his men and then motioned to the door.

  They obeyed, roughly dragging out the man who was too skinny to truly put up a fight against them. Vito followed behind, trying to ignore the pangs of pain that punctuated each step.

  The receptionist looked terrified as she took in the scene, and Vito took a moment to set down a small box on her counter. She eyed it warily before looking down in shock. Vito knew what she'd find; the shotgun had no ammunition in it. Precautions were always necessary.

  Vito followed his men outside, trying his best to hide his slight limp. The three he left behind had followed his instructions well, handcuffing the first identical man and tying up the other, with them both kneeling on the ground.

  "Leave the drunken one at the door, we're taking the others with us," Vito commanded.

  One of the Tides looked between the identical men with great confusion. While they waited for an ease in traffic, he couldn't hold in his curiosity any longer. "How the hell is that possible? I've never seen twins so identical in my life."

  The older Tide, who had offered to enter the room first, fixed him with a withering glare, but Vito was only marginally annoyed at his momentary lack of professionalism. He sighed, thinking of the new complications that were quickly forming.

  "They are shapeshifters."