The Rift Walker Read Online Free Page B

chains and all, to extract her marriage vows.
    Adele had spent the past few months successfully delaying her wedding to the senator for many reasons. First and foremost, she did not love him, not that it mattered; the marriage was for the good of the Empire. Still, she prayed that with time a miracle would occur and she wouldn't be forced to follow in her mother's footsteps and marry for politics rather than for love.
    “It's a beautiful night; one can almost see stars,” the Persian noted, her long, henna-painted fingers gripping her burqa as the wind buffeted it.
    “At least the breeze is blowing the haze away from the city. Maybe it will rain.”
    “Yes, my pomegranate tree is looking quite sad.”
    Adele nodded distractedly. They rounded the corner of the theater and, in the shadows of the alley, a cloaked figure shifted, the breeze billowing out his cape.
    Gareth! He had come for her!
    The figure stepped toward Adele, the buttons on his military tunic glinting in the dim light from the street. His smoked glasses turned toward her, and he reached out to touch her arm. Adele stood transfixed.
    “Is that you, my princess?” he whispered.
    In that instant, her hopes shattered. This was not Gareth, only the actor from the theater, come to mix with the adoring herd, particularly the ladies. This man was shorter than Gareth's six-foot frame. His nose was squat and his face marred with smallpox scars. Not ugly, but not Gareth. His wiry hair was cropped too close to his head to be her Greyfriar.
    Adele jerked her hand away from the imposter, a bit too harshly. He shrugged and instantly began the search of another princess for the evening.
    The Persian woman regarded her curiously. “You are the first woman I've seen shy away from the touch of the famed Greyfriar.”
    “Well, he's no Greyfriar, and I'm past dwelling in fantasy.”
    “Then why do you come to see the plays? I have seen you here before.”
    Adele stiffened with alarm. She'd been noticed. How foolish to chat endlessly with this woman and parade her knowledge of vampires and Greyfriar like a smug child. She needed to get away from this strange woman who seemed far too curious. Even though Adele would've liked to linger and listen to the crowd's discussion, perhaps even follow them to their clubs or coffee shops, her evening's adventure must end.
    “I hope you'll excuse me. I'm late for another appointment.” Adele gave a polite wave and slipped into the crowd. The Persian woman slowed with silent acceptance and watched the young girl disappear.
    Adele neared the promenade of the Eastern Harbor, listening to the waves washing the stone breakwater. She gazed eastward where she could just make out twin obelisks against the night sky. They were affectionately named Cleopatra's Needles, and she paused to stare at them. They were attributed to the ancient queen's desire to honor her doomed lover, Mark Antony.
    Alexandria had known its share of tragic love stories, of which hers was just one more.

 
    T HE WIND GREW stronger as Adele hurried away from the harbor. Her pace quickened, her booted feet nearly flying over the cobblestones as she headed north taking the long way home, her last bit of defiance.
    With only a sliver of moon visible above the rooftops, the evening was a dark pitch broken only by flickering streetlights. Their chemical hiss was just audible over the rush of the wind. Her quickest route home was northeast, but it passed through a notably seedy part of the city.
    An open-air tram hummed at a stop just ahead, spewing a cloud of yellow chemical fumes as it idled. Adele dashed for it, grabbing a rail just as it started moving. The smell of the tram's smoke grew thicker as it wound its way northeast through the old Turkish Quarter. Narrow streets crowded with stone buildings passed by slowly, giving Adele a close-up view of their heavy layer of soot coating the nooks and crannies. The white stone had a smudged appearance Adele knew was the stain of