Part 4 (2/2)

”I'll go,” Holgar volunteered. It seemed like the logical choice. ”If I'm gone, the werewolves should follow and leave you alone.”

Jenn shook her head. ”No. Noah should go. Greg's only seen him once, and that was at night.”

”I'll do it,” Noah said. ”It won't be a problem that he's seen me. This time, he won't.”

”Good, because that way we can focus on what is a problem,” Jenn said, her voice grim.

Jamie lit a cigarette.

Antonio's heart bled for Jenn. He would have given anything to comfort her as a man would comfort the woman he loved. But though Jenn had grown from a naive, self-deprecating girl into a strong woman, he had not changed. He wasn't a man.

As Antonio fretted, Jenn spent the next half hour laying out how they would get Noah to Budapest. They also talked about Holgar's attackers.

Then Jenn brought up Antonio's grandsire: Lucifer, who had sired Sergio. Aurora had called out his name during the battle of Salamanca. Lucifer was truly the Devil, and if they had to go up against him, they would be d.a.m.ned.

Antonio couldn't concentrate. All he could do was stare at the gentle curve of Jenn's lips, the way they shaped each word, and the wisps of her dark auburn hair.

At last the meeting was over. Holgar's eyes were gla.s.sy, and Antonio wondered how badly the stab wound was affecting him. They were all to pack, grab a quick nap, and get some food before leaving the monastery that night. All except for Noah, who would be leaving immediately for Hungary.

As the others filed out, Antonio lingered, staring at Jenn. She loved him, despite what he was. Why couldn't that be enough?

It's not a question of enough, he thought. I have promised myself to someone else. To G.o.d.

”Are you okay?” he asked.

It was a stupid question. Of course she wasn't okay. But he needed to say something, anything.

Jenn gave him a pained smile. He reached out to touch her cheek, but caught himself. He could see the blood rise to her cheeks, and desire swept through him.

Then he forced himself to turn. He had barely any control over his dark urges. And he had rededicated himself to the priesthood. She was the woman he loved, a child of G.o.d in need of saving, a savior who could change the world. But only one thing mattered.

She was forbidden fruit.

EPPING FOREST, ENGLAND.

SKYE.

Vampires favored cities, where they could find plenty of warm bodies and sheltering buildings. The majority of them shunned the lonely and isolated places of the world. Which was exactly why witches had sought those places out. After her sister's wedding, Skye's entire coven had gone underground to avoid being caught up in the war against the vampires.

Her family had moved deep into the heart of Epping Forest, where they maintained a tiny cottage previously used only for lunar celebrations and private family rituals. Skye knew that was where they would be, unless something had happened to them.

Skye doggedly made her way through the brush, catching sight of a will-o'-the-wisp-a flicker of light. These flickers were said by some to be the burning coal carried by a minion of Satan as he lured the curious to their doom. In Skye's family's faith, the lights were sent by the G.o.ddess to aid the lost.

”Help me now, Lady,” Skye murmured, as she reached a familiar stand of oaks.

One of Skye's cousins lived on the outskirts of the forest. The cottage's sloped roof was visible, and Skye followed a trail that was more memory than a physical landmark, until at last she was standing at the front door.

She stared for a moment at the old planks, her heart skipping a beat, as she wondered if she had come to the wrong place. A simple bra.s.s handle hung where there'd once been a silver door knocker in the shape of the crescent moon.

She squared her shoulders and forced herself to knock anyway. Regardless of who lived there, she was still badly in need of food and water. She prayed that the occupants would be willing to help.

An ultraviolet porch light clicked on. The light wasn't something she could see, but Skye could feel it. The bulb was a relic from the first years after the Cursed Ones went public. People had rushed to buy them, thinking that the UV would harm vampires as the sun would.

They hadn't worked. No one was really sure what the sun's light did. But the more superst.i.tious had hung on to their lights, swearing that the UV kept vampires at bay.

The door opened just a crack, and a blue eye stared out at her. Skye tried to smile, hoping that it would somehow compensate for being streaked with blood.

The door slammed shut.

”Please, I need your-,” Skye began.

The chain clinked and the door swung open. Skye's twenty-four-year-old cousin Summer anxiously regarded her. Skye moved to throw her arms around her, but Summer tensed and took a step back.

”What are you doing here?” she demanded.

”Blessed be,” Skye said, struggling to hide her disappointment at the lack of traditional witchly greeting-of any greeting, for that matter.

”You can't come in,” her cousin said, stubbornly setting her jaw.

Skye blinked, fighting to hold back tears. ”You can see that I'm hurt.”

”From fighting,” Summer said. ”Am I right?”

Skye looked into her eyes and saw anger there, and fear.

”Escaping,” Skye said. ”But it wasn't because of-”

”We don't take sides in the conflict, and we don't recognize those who do.”

”Then you're lying when you say you're not taking sides,” Skye snapped. ”Please, just some water-”

Summer slammed the door in her face. Miserable, and worried that she wouldn't be able to make it much farther before she collapsed, Skye took a deep breath and stepped off the porch. She stared into the forest and hoped that her parents would be more understanding, or at least forgiving.

She began to walk. She'd gone only about fifty feet when a sudden sound behind her caused her to turn. Standing there was Summer's husband, Nigel. He held out a gla.s.s of water and a brown sack.

”Thank you,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. She took the gla.s.s of water and drank it down, wis.h.i.+ng there were more of it. She handed it back, and Nigel gave her the bag. She opened it and saw a few slices of bread and a chunk of Stilton cheese.

”Thank you,” she said again, realizing that he hadn't said a word.

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