A room without books is like a body without a face.

  ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero

  Sarah screamed as Tomas slammed on the brakes. She lurched forward against the seatbelt as bullets tore into the road right in front of the car.

  The sound of gunfire triggered memories of the attack at the restaurant, complete with the fear and shock. This time, it also triggered a flood of excitement that startled her as much as the gunfire. She caught herself against the front dash, her gaze turning from the bullets chewing into the road to the gunman, and she longed for a weapon to fire back.

  The van braked, and the gunman swung against his restraining harness, forced to stop firing as his rifle swung wide. The brakes on Tomas’s car squealed, and he swung in behind the van.

  Other vehicles around them swerved and blared their horns. A compact collided with an SUV that skidded into its lane. The car crumpled and the SUV rolled right over it, sending bits and pieces flying, and forcing all three lanes of traffic to grind to a halt.

  The van slowed further and began swerving from side to side. Tomas stayed in their wake, matching their every move.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah cried, her voice coming out way calmer than she’d expected.

  “He’s trying to shake me loose so the gunner can get another shot,” Tomas explained, no worry in his tone.

  “What about the rear door?” she asked, surprised no one had started shooting at them from there yet.

  Her hands shook with a combination of fear and that intense yearning for a weapon of her own. If the System Store had offered a gun, she would have bought it, not caring what questions that would cause.

  “I’ve got it,” Tomas said, still remarkably calm. “Cover your ears.”

  He extracted a huge pistol from under his seat. Sarah recognized it as a forty-five caliber. It looked like an H&K USP.

  That was one of her older brother’s favorite guns, but the double-stacked magazine made the grip too big for her hands. Tomas rolled down his window, and fired with his left hand.

  Sarah clapped hands over her ears just in time, but the concussive booming of the gun just outside his window still hurt. The window in the van’s left rear door shattered, and the van swerved hard to the left.

  Sarah doubted she could have hit anything one-handed, left-handed for that matter, while driving. Maybe the next tutorial would include a challenge like that.

  Tomas accelerated, and the plain-looking Honda had a lot more power under the hood than Sarah expected. The sudden acceleration drove her back into her seat.

  “Watch out!” she shouted as they pulled even with the right side of the van, barely ten feet from the gunner.

  Before the man could bring his rifle to bear, Tomas fired again. The bullet tore into the gunner's chest, and blood splattered the van’s interior as he sagged in his restraining harness.

  Another man leaned around the gunner, a pistol in his hand. Tomas ignored him and continued accelerating. As they pulled even with the front of the van, he fired again. The passenger window exploded all over the man seated there.

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  The van braked hard and swerved away.

  Tomas continued to accelerate. When it appeared the van would not immediately give chase, he rolled up his window and holstered the gun back under his seat.

  “I think they were following me,” he decided.

  Sarah craned her head around to stare at the van falling farther behind. “How did you do that?” She barely resisted the urge to add, “And do you have another gun I can borrow?”

  Her heart still raced, and despite that surprising longing to get off a shot too, the fear that had not had time to really grab hold spiked to near-panic levels. She wanted to slap him for looking so much calmer.

  “Just take deep breaths,” he offered. “You faced worse in the vault and that restaurant attack.”

  “Yeah, but there I could fight back, and no one targeted me right off before I could react.”

  Tomas chuckled. “Right. If they had caught us by surprise, it wasn’t a bad plan. But they’re just human.”

  “We have to stop, have to call the police.”

  “That wouldn’t help.”

  “Why not?” She focused on the conversation as an anchor to calm her thoughts and emotions.

  “The NOPD usually manages to arrive only after emergencies are over. Besides, they’re notoriously corrupt, so there’s a pretty solid chance they’re already on the payroll of whoever hired those hit men. Wouldn’t help.”

  “This is turning into a bad habit. Getting attacked by armed gunmen is not supposed to happen in this country.” And why did everyone always say to call the police first if the police wouldn’t help?

  “I warned you it could be dangerous.”

  “I know, but I hadn’t expected you to be proven right less than half an hour after arriving.

  Sarah took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. She hadn’t had police help at Alterego or the restaurant. They’d had to figure things out on their own. They could do it again.

  In her mind, she heard her parents ridiculing her again, tearing down her choices and trying to force her into a useless life with no dreams, no ambitions. She had plenty of practice overcoming challenges, so she centered herself like she had when facing the challenge dungeon, and tried to relax, but remain alert.

  “Tomas, the guy with the rifle. I saw him on the plane.”

  “That’s why I didn’t spot any tails on the way to the airport.”

  “Why would you even be looking?” Had Mr. Fleischer tracked him down somehow?

  Instead of answering, he cut in front of an eighteen-wheeler and took the Carrollton Street ramp off the highway. Sarah didn’t see the white van as he merged into light traffic, then turned left to circle the campus of Xavier University.

  “I don’t see them,” she said. “Are you sure we should have left the highway?”

  “They had fallen behind, but might have had a second team waiting for us.” He took several rapid turns, and when the van did not appear behind them, Sarah relaxed more.

  He circled back to the campus and pulled into a student parking lot. “I think we’re clear.”

  “So was there a specific reason you were watching for tails on the way to meet me?” Sarah asked.

  He sighed. “Like I warned, the closer you get to Eirene, the more dangerous things are right now. She’s searching for Mai Luan.”

  “Is Mai Luan here in New Orleans?” That thought sent a cold chill creeping down her spine, and she only barely resisted the urge to look around nervously.

  “Probably not.”

  “How does Eirene’s search for Mai Luan connect to a guy from my flight trying to shoot us?”

  “You’re sure it was the same guy?”

  “Positive. His jawline showed signs of misalignment. I couldn’t miss it. I saw him again in the parking lot before we got into your car.”

  Tomas grimaced. “So they were following you after all.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Tomas stepped out of the car and she did the same. He collected her bags and led the way toward the exit stairs.

  “Those powerful people I mentioned you might have upset after Alterego? I had hoped they’d overlook your involvement. They’ve been hunting Eirene and her husband for decades. Now that she’s free, I figured they’d focus on her.”

  That was the last thing Sarah wanted to hear. She had only known Eirene a short time, but she’d gotten a glimpse at the woman’s power. The thought of Mai Luan or some other nameless group powerful enough to hunt Eirene was simply terrifying.

  If she didn’t need Eirene so badly, she’d suggest they take the next flight to Rome and leave this crazy town behind. Mai Luan terrified her more than anything, and she didn’t want to be anywhere around the woman. If there was another group willing to send hitmen to kill people in broad daylight, maybe she should have listened to Tomas’s warning.

  No. She didn’t have a choice.

  “How do we tell if it was Mai Luan or that other group coming after me?”

  He grimaced. “Not enough information yet. We’ll have to keep alert.”

  Not a great answer, but not surprising. Sarah changed to a different topic. “Eirene’s husband?”

  “Gregorios.”

  He had mentioned that name in the vault when he had first extracted Eirene’s unincorporated face from its little coffin.

  “Who is he?”

  Tomas’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and grunted. “That’s him.”