Part 18 (2/2)

”But, Lucifer, if they find them, and realize that they don't last long . . .”

Dantalion. Lucifer's a.s.sistant, from what Heather could tell. Nearly just as dangerous.

”What is the problem with that?” Lucifer interrupted Dantalion. ”If they think the creatures pose no threat, they're mistaken. It's wonderful if they underestimate us. We can continue to replace the ones that wear out for as long as we need.”

They were coming closer. Heather looked left, right, trying to find some way to get out of their way before they spotted her. She looked down at her hands. She had forgotten she was covered in filth and dried blood. Everyone in the castle, vampire and human alike, was so clean.

”Aurora,” Lucifer called out. ”What light from yonder window breaks?”

Trapped, Heather thought. Caught. Then, panicking, she looked down at the water in the cistern again. Moving with the speed endowed her by vampirism, she looped one leg over the lip of the container, and then the other, and ducked her head beneath the surface. She could stay like that for hours. She wouldn't need to come up for air, ever.

Now Aurora was saying something about a party. As her words carried through the water, they were a bit m.u.f.fled. But it was clear to Heather that Aurora wasn't going to go out as she had originally planned.

Fury rushed through Heather, and she balled her fists, feeling the water mixing with the layers of grime as her thumb ran over her knuckles, turning the blood and earthen crust to slime. She rubbed her fingers together, then trailed them up her arms. Then remembered that she was hiding, and that if her movements disturbed the surface of the water, she would be revealed.

So she went back to waiting.

And waiting.

Then something dove into the water, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked her straight up. Her eyes filmy, she couldn't see what had hold of her. She flailed as she dangled; then her vampire instincts took over, and she hissed and snapped, grabbing what she saw now was an arm, half rotted and covered with fur.

Without warning she was dropped. She landed on her bare feet and threw herself at her attacker. Her force threw it on its back, and she straddled it, hissing and preparing to rip open its throat.

But it whimpered.

Heather was a Cursed One, which meant that she was evil. She would never show mercy just because someone sounded hurt. That was the time to go in for the kill. But as she paused and stared down at the thing beneath her, curiosity overcame her. It was so gross, like a Frankenstein monster sewn together from hacked-off bits of dead human . . . and decomposing werewolf and rotten vampire, complete with glowing eyes.

Then the thing said in a tortured, gravelly voice, ”Oh, so lovely.”

Panicking all over again, Heather whirled around, fully expecting to see Aurora-and Dantalion and Lucifer-behind her. But there was no one there.

The monster raised a hand and pointed at her. At Heather. And it said, ”Lovely.”

THE MONASTERY OF THE BROTHERHOOD OF ST. ANDREW.

JENN, HOLGAR, ANTONIO, FATHER JUAN, AND ESTHER.

Jenn was in h.e.l.l. After the werewolf attack, it took only one more day to reach their destination. The monastery of St. Andrew topped a jagged mountain peak of hallowed ground, but rivers of spilled blood had soaked into the stones at the base of the castlelike fortress. Vampires had terrorized Transylvania for centuries. After hearing only a few stories of the ma.s.sacres that had taken place at the doors of the gloomy, drafty monastery, Jenn was surprised that the snow on the hillsides stayed white.

As soon as they arrived, Brother Cristian and Brother Dorin showed Jenn the special vampire prison cell the monks had built centuries before, when they began their work of ”cleansing” vampires of their terrible curse. It was where they wanted to house Antonio. Religious murals of angels smiting demons covered the ceiling of the cell, and on the walls hundreds of crosses were crammed between wooden stakes that pointed inward from all directions. There were special wheels that could be turned so that the walls shot toward each other with astonis.h.i.+ng speed. In the ever-narrowing s.p.a.ce, a vampire would be forced to watch as the stakes approached him, then ended his undead life.

Jenn wanted to protest, to say that Antonio didn't belong in such a dangerous place. What if someone accidentally set the wheels in motion?

Even worse, their rea.s.surances of turning vampires to the light were hard to prove. The last vampire they claimed to have made ”good” had left the monastery in 1896. According to their records, her name was Elizabet, and she had stopped drinking human blood. She left the monastery in the company of two monks, with the intention of traveling to the sacred grotto of Lourdes, France, where it was said that miraculous cures occurred when one prayed there to the Holy Mother.

”Why would Elizabet go there, if she was no longer cursed?” Jenn asked dubiously.

”She no longer drank human blood, but she was still a Cursed One,” Brother Dorin said. ”She wanted to ask the Holy Mother to cure her of vampirism altogether.” He rarely spoke, and the sound of his voice startled her. It was very hoa.r.s.e and labored, and she wondered if he'd had some sort of throat injury.

Something similar to her own, perhaps.

Jenn took a deep breath. ”And did she get cured?”

The two monks looked at each other, and then at her. ”We don't know. There was a fire, and many of our records were lost.”

”Aren't there always fires when it's convenient to have them?” Jenn asked irritably, then let out a heavy sigh. ”I'm sorry. It's just . . . he-and I-we were kind of hoping . . .” She trailed off and stared at the cell. Antonio, she thought. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but this wasn't it.

”Since the cross does not hold him back, we need to put him in here,” Brother Cristian said. ”We must think of everyone who lives here.”

”G.o.d is a merciful Father,” Brother Dorin said. ”Perhaps if we pray together-”

She swallowed. ”The cell is fine. I'll see if any of my people need anything.”

”G.o.d needs you,” Brother Dorin said.

Well, He knows where to find me, Jenn thought, turning away.

After they had escaped from the werewolves, Antonio hadn't spoken a word to her. Inside the van he'd kept his back turned, head bowed, and when she'd started to reach out a hand to him, she'd drawn it back. Holgar had seen her do it, and had nodded sadly. She knew that Holgar had always liked Antonio. They were two men who lived with the knowledge that the supernatural forces within them could turn them into monsters.

Except Antonio's not a man. He's a vampire.

Her back like iron, tears streaming down her face, she left the h.e.l.lish place.

After Antonio was put in his cell, chanting filled the monastery. Ancient, holy rhythms rose and fell. The monks were begging G.o.d to fill their brother Antonio with His grace.

Father Wadim, the head of the brotherhood, conferred with Jenn. He a.s.signed rooms for the group and apologized for the bad heating. He also told Jenn that she would be able to use her cell phone. It took a few tries to reach Father Juan, but finally she heard his calm, Spanish voice. She told him they had arrived safely. She withheld the information about Antonio's attack, telling herself it was because Father Juan had a lot of news to tell her. But the truth was, she didn't want him to know, ever. He would have to, of course. But what if he told the monks to turn the wheels?

Father Juan a.s.sured her that Gramma Esther was fine.

”That's great news,” Jenn said, struggling to be happy when her own news was so grim.

”And Jamie has found Skye. They're together, but still in England. I'm afraid her ex is proving dangerous and difficult to evade,” the priest went on.

”Estefan has found her?” Jenn knew she was terrified of him. She pressed her fingers to her temples and wondered, not for the first time, if Eriko has suffered from so many headaches because of the stress of being the leader.

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