Elizabeth shivered in delight as shock washed away Cardinal Bernard’s usual calm composure. For a fraction of a moment, he bared his teeth at her, dropping his mask, showing his true nature. After centuries of sparring, she had finally managed to crack his façade of diplomacy and order, exposing the animal beneath.
I need that animal.
She would risk even death to unshackle it.
To the side, the archaeologist and the soldier looked equally surprised, but the best reactions came from the Sanguinists. The young Christian went stiff; the slim Sanguinist woman with burnished Eastern features curled her lip in revulsion. In their holy minds, such a request was unimaginable.
Then again, a failure of imagination had always been the Sanguinists’ chief sin.
“Never.” The cardinal’s first word was a low rumble — then his voice rose, bursting from his chest, booming through the church. “You… you are an abomination!”
She faced his fury, stoking it even more with her calmness. “Your priestly prudery holds no interest for me. And do not fool yourself, I am no more an abomination than you.”
Bernard fought to bottle back his rage, to tamp it down inside him, but the cracks continued to show. His fists were iron at his side. “We will not discuss such mortal sins in this holy place of worship.”
He yanked on her cuffed wrist, hard enough for the edge of the shackles to cut her skin. He stalked toward the back of the church, pulling the rest with him as if they were equally bound to the cardinal.
And maybe they were, in their own ways.
Elizabeth had to run to keep up with him, but she could not keep that pace. Her feet tangled in her long skirt, and she sprawled across the cold marble. Her handcuff bit deeper into the flesh of her wrist.
She kept silent, savoring the pain.
If he was hurting her, he had lost control.
And I’ve gained it.
She struggled to get her feet beneath her, losing a shoe in the battle. In her efforts to rise, she tore the shoulder of her dress. Aghast, she clutched it with her free hand to keep it from falling.
Christian blocked Bernard, touching the cardinal’s arm. “She cannot keep up with you, Your Eminence. Remember, she is mortal now, as much as she might not wish to be.”
Jordan helped her to her feet, his strong hands warm against her body.
“Thank you,” she whispered to the sergeant.
Even Erin came to her aid, reaching over and adjusting Elizabeth’s dress so that it did not hang down so. Despite the woman’s low background, she did indeed have a well of kindness, one deep enough to help an enemy in distress. Perhaps that was part of Rhun’s attraction to her — her simple kindness.
Elizabeth stepped away from the woman without offering her thanks. She kicked off her other shoe, so as not to walk with a limp. Cold stone pressed against the soles of her bare feet.
Bernard apologized through gritted teeth. “I beg your pardon, Countess Bathory.”
He turned and continued onward, but now at a more moderate pace. Still, anger was evident in each exaggerated step. He plainly could not appreciate what she wanted, what she demanded of him. He had been immortal so long that he had forgotten mortal desires, mortal weaknesses. But in doing so, he had also created a powerful weakness inside him.
And I will exploit it to the fullest.
The cardinal reached the far side of the basilica and led them down a set of stairs, likely heading to the buried Sanguinist chapel.
A dark space for dark secrets.
At the bottom of the stairs lay a candlelit crypt. The floor was smooth and clean, an easy walk, even in bare feet. On the far side, Bernard stopped in front of a stone wall decorated with a carved figure of Lazarus.
She guessed it was one of the order’s hidden gates.
How they loved their secrets.
Standing before the statue, the cardinal peeled off his left glove and took a knife from his belt. He pierced his bare palm with a small knife and dripped blood into a cup that Lazarus was holding. He spoke softly in Latin, too quickly for her to follow.
A moment later, the small door swung open to the side with a grating sound.
The cardinal faced the others. “I will speak to the countess alone.”
Murmurs spread among the others, uncertainty on their faces.
Christian was the boldest, maybe because he was newer to the order, willing to confront his superior directly. “Your Eminence, that goes against our rules.”
“We’re well beyond rules,” Bernard countered. “I can come to a more satisfactory arrangement without the presence of others.”
Erin stepped up. “What are you planning on doing to her? Torture the information out of her?”
Jordan supported the archaeologist. “I was against enhanced interrogation techniques in Afghanistan, and I’m not going to tolerate it now.”
Ignoring them, the cardinal backed through the door, pulling Elizabeth with him. From the threshold, he called out a command that echoed through the crypt.
“Pro me. For me alone.”
Before anyone could react, the door slammed closed between them.
Darkness enfolded Elizabeth.
Bernard whispered in her ear. “Now you are mine.”
Erin pounded the flat of her hand against the sealed door.
She should have suspected such an underhanded maneuver from Bernard. If there were secrets to be learned, he had shown in the past that he would go to extreme measures to control the flow of information. Erin would not put it past the cardinal to withhold whatever knowledge he gained from Elizabeth, maybe even killing the countess to silence her.
She turned to Christian and pointed to the cup in the statue’s hands. “Get this door open.”
Before he could obey, Sophia touched the young Sanguinist on the shoulder, but her words were for them all. “The cardinal will question the countess himself. He has experience in such matters.”
“I am the Woman of Learning,” Erin argued. “Whatever Elizabeth knows concerns our quest.”
Jordan nodded. “And this Warrior of Man agrees, too.”
Sophia refused to back down. “You don’t know with certainty that her information has any direct bearing on your quest.”
Erin fumed, hating being cut out of the loop so abruptly. But she also had a bigger concern. She didn’t trust the countess, not even with the cardinal. Erin feared Bernard might be outmatched by Elizabeth. It was evident the woman knew how to push Bernard’s buttons, but was it just a sadistic game or was Elizabeth manipulating Bernard to her own ends?
Erin took a different tack. “If things go sour in there, how fast can you get us inside?”
“Define sour,” Christian said.
“Bernard is locked alone in there with the Blood Countess. She’s a brilliant woman who knows more about strigoi and their nature than anyone.”
Sophia raised an eyebrow. She looked a little surprised.
Erin pressed on. “The countess has conducted experiments on strigoi, trying to determine their nature. It’s all in her journal.”
Jordan stared toward the sealed gate. “Which means the countess likely knows Bernard’s weaknesses, probably better than he does himself.”
Erin looked into Christian’s eyes. He wanted to help her, but he clearly still felt a duty to follow Bernard’s orders.
“Either way, it doesn’t matter,” Sophia said. “The cardinal closed the door with the command pro me, which means that it will open only to him.”
What?