Alchemystic by Anton Strout Page B

end of the man’s arm. The demon sigil that marked the skin on the back of his hand trailed up the rest of his arm.
    Hesitant, the woman stepped toward me to look it over. “The man who attacked me the other night had similar markings,” she said. “What do they mean?”
    “It is an ancient mark,” I said, finally recalling it. “The more sections, blocks, the longer it is, the higher up their place is in the order.”
    “
What
order?”
    “The Servants of Ruthenia,” I recalled, but nothing more.
    The woman shuddered as she looked at the arm, then turned her eyes to me. “What
are
you?” she asked. “How do you know that?”
    “I was created to
protect
, both you and your family,” I said. I paused, trying to recall something more about the Servants. I lowered the dead man’s arm and stood. “As to how I know this order, I am not sure. My thoughts are not what they oncewere; long has my mind been dormant.” I pointed at the mark on the hand again. “It has been a long time since I have seen such things.”
    The woman’s eyes narrowed. “How long are we talking here?” she asked.
    “I am unsure of that as well,” I said, noting the disappointment on her face at my words. “I am sorry. To my recollection, I do not think I have talked to anyone in many a year. At least, no one I did not then kill.”
    A sudden spike of fear radiated off of her and she stepped back. “You’re not going to…you know…?”
    When she did not finish her words, I cocked my head. “Explain.”
    She let out a long breath, then spoke in a rush. “You’re not going to kill
me
…are you?”
    I shook my head. “I am sworn to protect,” I said.
    The woman visibly relaxed, looking around the chaos of the room, her eyes passing quickly over the bloody body ofher attacker lying between us.
    “You should go,” I said.
    She nodded absently. “What about you?”
    “I will take care of the body of this man who attacked you,” I said.
    “There are others…” she said, walking with a great hesitation over to a stack of thin gray slabs. “Other men here who that man killed.”
    “I can take care of them as well.”
    She looked up at the hole in the ceiling. “Can you make it look like the roof caved in on them? Like the building was structurally weak? I’m going to need to explain some of this insanity to other people.”
    I nodded. “I can do that,” I said. “Once I dispose of your attacker.”
    The woman, eyes still wide and locked on mine, gave a small, pained smile, then averted her gaze and started for the door. She was almost to the hallway when she spun around, still shaken.
    “Wait,” she said, looking down at the crumpled body of her attacker. “You’re not going to leave…
him
in the park like the other one, are you?”
    “You do not wish this?”
    She gave a nervous, grim laugh, looking as if she might be violently ill any moment. “No,” she said. “I do not wish that.”
    “As you wish,” I said, then added, “but you should tell no one of this.”
    She nodded, her eyes glazed, uncertain.
    “You should go,” I said. “I will first remove this man from here, then come back to finishing damaging this roof.”
    “What
are
you going to do with him?”
    “The ocean is deep,” I said, looking down at the body. “This man will be another mystery lost to it.”
    The woman moved closer, wonder on her face. “Why
did
you leave that other man in the park outside my family’s building?” she asked.
    “As a warning.”
    “A warning?” she repeated. “To who?”
    I moved closer to her as well, looking down into her face and those hauntingly familiar eyes. “To anyone who would wish to harm you or your family.”
    She shook her head and gave a short, nervous laugh. “Why the hell would anyone want to do that in first place?”
    “I am not sure,” I said, moving to gather the man’s body up in my arms and walking over to the hole in the ceiling. I looked up through it, gauging how much