Prologue
According to my birth certificate my name is Jia Stanka. The report I dug up stated while trying to outrun an avalanche Viola Stanka lost control of her car and hit a tree. She died instantly. A baby girl was found unharmed in an infant seat. The avalanche also wiped out the entire village of San Martino, including every member of the Stanka clan. That seemed a bit too convenient. Even more curious was none of the people in the pictures I found had red hair and green eyes. Either way, little orphan me was sent to Saint Michael’s Home for Lost Sheep. The kids in the orphanage were neither docile nor sheep-like. It was a home for budding criminals with psychic abilities.
Mother Superior was a vindictive bitch and how she ever became a nun is a mystery to me. Some say she joined the convent when the love of her life was killed. Me? I think she ended him. What better place for a murderess to hide? Her vow of chastity was a joke. She had more men in her quarters than a street hooker. She didn’t honor her oath of poverty either. Her habit was made from the finest silk, her cross was solid gold, and she smoked the best Havana cigars Cuba could produce. Any nun who spoke up about her behavior abruptly disappeared.
Mother Superior’s brother was Salvatore Genovese, a notorious crime boss. She depended on his generosity to keep Saint Michael’s orphanage afloat and get her those little luxuries she so richly deserved. She allowed Salvatore to use the children in his criminal enterprises. At the age of six, I became a talented pickpocket. When I turned eleven, my “trainers” began teaching me how to become a cat burglar. I mean, who would suspect a kid of stealing millions of credits in jewels and fine art? Not the Polizia; and if they did get suspicious, I used my psychic talent to cloud their minds.
The night everything changed is forever etched into my mind. I had snuck into Mother Superior’s rooms to “borrow” her stilettos, but she was wearing them while she fucked her latest John. A lot of men thought doing it with a nun was hot. To me it was just gross. The guy said something about her floppy breasts and wham! She slit his throat. Bright red blood splashed over the silver bedspread. My gasp of horror drew Mother Superior’s attention.
Her eyes narrowed as she spotted my hiding place. “You little whore! I will kill you.” She jumped off the bed, tripped over the dead guy’s shoes and crashed to the floor. Between her stilettos and all the blood, it took her three tries to get to her feet.
I had found out the hard way Mother Superior was immune to my gifts. I darted around her and bolted from the room. For a nun she sure could cuss. There was only one place to hide if I didn’t want to end up as another missing kid, and I ran as fast as I could.
Saint Michael’s catacombs had been carved into volcanic rock. Ancient bones arranged in the shape of a crucifix guarded the entrance. My heart pounding in my chest, I paused at the doorway and took a deep breath. Over the years, hundreds of people had entered, never to be seen again. Sister Sarah said to keep to the left and God would lead me out. I hoped she was right. Then there were the rats. Thousands of them, scurrying about the bones, animating the dead.
Vicious cursing echoed in the night air. I grinned. Mother Superior had broken a heel on her red Manolo Blahnik stilettos. Pity. I had been lusting after those shoes for months.
An angry male voice snapped, “Killing Alfred in front of the child was a stupid mistake.”
I stiffened. Merda, Salvatore was with her. He liked young girls and the thought of him touching me, made my skin crawl.
“Jia is like a ghost. I did not know she was there until it was too late. We simply kill her and leave the body in the catacombs. No one will miss the little thief,” Mother Superior shot back.
Too true. I peeped around the wall. Salvatore loomed over his sister. The moonlight turned his face into a macabre mask. “That little thief has made me millions. Your sloppiness ends today.” In a lightning fast move, he grabbed Mother Superior’s head and twisted it. Crack! She fell to the ground.
Fear knotted my stomach. Holy