Huntress and Hunted

8-Replica

"How in the world do you sleep until eleven thirty and still want more time?" Daniel muttered, shaking me.

I grumbled something and called to the fire, setting my hand ablaze and waved it around. He yelped and sprang back. I rolled away, determined to sleep more. Hearing him walk away, I grinned sleepily. Win for Cerise. Few more minutes of sweet sleep. That was, until cold water was poured on my head.

With a yelp, I got up and shot for Daniel, trying to strangle him. He tried to sleep in late and I woke him up with the smell of delicious food. I tried to sleep in late and he poured water on me!

"Try that next time and I'll burn all your favorite parts to a crisp," I warned, both my hands encased in fire. The room filled with the smell of smoke from the fire singing the ends of my sleeves.

"Woah." He raised his hands in a peace gesture. "I found a bakery close by and managed to get something, and I can't even speak French so I was practically using sign language and..." he trailed off and reached over for a plastic bag. "Here."

I let the flames die away, took the bag and reached for a water bottle. "You could always use a translating app."

His eyes narrowed indignantly. "Your welcome."

I tore a chunk from the baguette and was too busy eating it to actually thank him. I wasn't sure I wanted to with him waking me up and all. Call me ungrateful but I wasn't a morning person. 

He moved around the place, picking up used water bottles and stuffing them in the plastic bag. After I finished eating, I put the rest of the baguette away and grabbed my bag. Back to Italy.

"Since Everard found out that the motel was where we were staying, the rest of them left somewhere else," he said and shot off the ground.

I followed. "Where?"

"Another place in Venice."

"Just how many...hideouts do you have?"

As usual, countless questions arose. Questions I really wanted the answer to. What were they? A rebellion of sorts? For how long did they know about me?

"Many." As usual, a cryptic answer.

"Answer the question, Daniel," I growled.

"I honestly don't know the full count, but around seven? I think. Three in Venice, and the rest are scattered around the county, mostly in the countryside."

"And there are only six of you?"

"Nope."

I waited. "How many?"

"You're so inquisitive today."

When was I not inquisitive? "I have a right to know." I tried to keep the annoyance out of my tone, whether it worked or not I didn't know.

"Again, I don't know. I do know that there are a lot of us, but for some reason, there are some who are disappearing. Rapidly."

That raised a hundred other questions. "Care to explain?"

Daniel frowned and looked below. "What's going on?"

I tore my gaze away from him and looked down. We were nearing the airport, but there was something off. Something that made the hair on my arms stand and panic twist my insides. The last time this happened we got shot at.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

I flew faster, matching the pace he set and soon we were walking into the airport, each of us looking at our surroundings, trying to spot an enemy in the throngs of people entering and exiting the airport. Despite the foreboding sense of something wrong, nothing seemed out of place.