Part 21 (1/2)
The Devil. He stared at it for a long time. Disbelieving. Incredulous. Infuriated.
Terrified.
It can't be true. He's not real.
”This card represents someone in your life who holds power over you. And he will harm you unless you find a way to protect yourself,” Katalin said in a strained voice.
”You're lying,” Solomon said, rising from his chair. He leaned across the chair and lashed out at her with his fingertips. He missed her cheek by centimeters, and that infuriated him even more. He grabbed the table and threw it across the room. It shattered against the wall, m.u.f.fling her cry as she leaped to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. ”Someone put you up to this. What is this, a joke?”
”Solomon, I'm not. I swear to you I'm not.” In her fear she began to babble. ”It's your card. You cut the deck yourself. Please, I would never lie to you.”
He left Katalin's room without another word, went into his private office, and shut the door. Then he sank down into a chair.
”It was just a card,” he said aloud. ”He's just a myth.”
The Devil. And who was the Devil but Lucifer, vampire king of shadows? The vampire said to have defeated Dracula. The vampire other vampires feared. Just a myth.
He wouldn't have been so shaken if he hadn't been pus.h.i.+ng Katalin so hard for information. Crystal b.a.l.l.s, pendulums, rune stones-he'd had her run through them all. And each had given him a tiny piece of the ident.i.ty of his most dangerous opponent: One said that he was ageless; one proclaimed him ”above the mountains.” It went on and on until the last puzzle piece: that d.a.m.ned tarot card.
The Devil. Lucifer was the Devil incarnate.
Solomon shook. He hung his hands between his knees and lowered his head, fighting for composure. Maybe someone had put Katalin up to giving him that answer. To distract him. To scare him. But who could get to her? He kept her under lock and key.
”It's a lie,” he whispered.
His phone rang, and he was so startled that he nearly fell out of the chair. He fished in the pocket of his jeans and held it up. He brightened. It was one of his spies, deeply embedded at the new headquarters of Project Crusade, in Budapest. A human, code-named David Book.
”Yes,” Solomon said.
”I can't talk long,” David whispered into the phone.
”Then get to the point,” Solomon snapped. ”Do you have something?”
”They have something.” David took a deep breath. ”It's a virus, Solomon. It's going to make vampires extinct.”
Solomon laughed, but it was a hollow, frightened sound. After the tarot card, it was hard to believe what David was saying. But David was his most trusted spy, of all his spies. And he had a lot of them.
”There's no such thing,” Solomon said. ”Nothing on earth that can do that.”
”There will be. It's the ultimate weapon, and there's no protection against it. None, Solomon.”
Solomon silently cleared his throat. His hand trembled.
”Prove it. Send me a picture, anything.”
The line went dead.
Solomon stared at it, disbelieving. Then he speed-dialed Jack Kilburn, the president of the United States, on their ultrasecret private line. No one else had the number, and Kilburn always answered, day or night. Kilburn might know something about this.
Sure enough, after one ring the connection was made.
”Jack,” he said jovially, hiding his consternation, ”listen. I just heard-”
”This is Alberto Sanchez, President Kilburn's chief of staff,” an unfamiliar voice informed him. ”President Kilburn is unavailable at this time.”
Solomon was speechless. No one except the president had ever answered this phone.
”Do you know who I am?” Solomon asked in a friendly, conversational way. The leader of the Vampire Nation didn't lose his cool when talking to lackeys.
”Yes, Solomon, I do,” said Sanchez, in a voice completely devoid of deference.
”What's happened to Kilburn? Has he been a.s.sa.s.sinated?” Solomon asked. His mind was racing. He didn't understand what was happening.
”The president is in a meeting. If you would care to leave a message-”
Solomon jerked as if he'd been slapped. Without another word he hung up. He began to shake, sick to his soul. This couldn't be happening. The president was severing their relations.h.i.+p. It had to be true, then. The humans had a weapon. And the president knew it. If only I had converted him, he would be stopping the use of that weapon right now. I should have done it. Then there would be vampires the black crosses would have to spare. Good vampires.
He jerked. Good vampires. There was a good vampire they had to spare-the one everybody wanted to get their hands on. Maybe even Lucifer.
Antonio de la Cruz. They had probably already provided him with the antidote. He probably had it with him.
And Solomon knew where Antonio was.
TRANSYLVANIA, ROMANIA.
HOLGAR AND JENN.
Jenn lingered at the door that led downstairs to Antonio's cell. It was the same door Noah had tried to pa.s.s through less than twenty-four hours before. She took a deep breath and reached for the latch.
”No,” said a voice behind her.
It was her grandmother. She was dressed much like Jenn, in jeans, boots, and a heavy coat. For a second, Jenn thought Gramma Esther was coming with them to parley with the Transylvanian werewolf pack. But it was so chilly inside the monastery that everyone-except the monks-was bundled up.
”I want to say good-bye,” Jenn said. ”Just in case.”
Gramma Esther shook her head. ”You need to keep your head in the game. Good-byes can really mess you up. Trust me, I know. Charles and I had to say good-bye so many times, to so many people. After a while we stopped, because it was just too painful.” A fleeting, somewhat bitter smile flashed over her mouth, then was gone.
”Don't let Noah hurt him,” Jenn said. ”Please, Gramma.”
”I'm here, Jenn,” her grandmother said. ”I'll do what's right.”
Jenn took a breath. She didn't know exactly what her grandmother meant.
”You need to walk through a different door,” Gramma Esther said. ”The front door. And you need to leave all this behind and concentrate on your mission.”