Instead, Rhun turned his back on her. “Then we leave now. Be ready.”
Only Elizabeth glimpsed Rhun’s face as she brushed past her. She saw how speaking those words to Erin had left him demolished.
And upon seeing that look, a part of Elizabeth was crushed, too, recognizing how much Rhun still loved that woman.
So Elizabeth let Rhun go — both from the room and from her heart.
There is another who needs me more.
36
Tommy ran across the dark street toward the glowing dome of St. Peter’s Basilica. The square in front of it was normally full of tourists, wandering around and gawking at everything, but tonight it was empty due to the curfew. Scores of patrols traveled the city, a mix of armed men and Sanguinist priests in civilian clothing.
But they were losing this night.
Sirens echoed over the city, punctuated by screams. Fires burned out there, casting up ribbons of smoke from countless spots.
Tommy tripped on a curb and fell to a knee. He was hauled immediately back to his feet by one of his three Sanguinist guards. They were moving him from his apartment by the river to Vatican City.
For your protection, he had been told.
He had tried to object, fearing that Elizabeth wouldn’t know where he was being moved. He had tried calling after sunset, growing scared as the chaos grew, but the lines were busy, overloaded.
Ahead, somebody had set up barricades across the entrance to St. Peter’s Square. Metal plates had been bolted in place, standing ten feet tall. Armed snipers stood in special bulletproof cages on top. Giant lights shone out from the base of the barrier, illuminating the surrounding streets.
The city was under siege.
But by whom?
Earlier, he had watched BBC news, glued to the television, seeing reports of nighttime attackers all across Europe and beyond. Troops patrolled the major cities, especially after dark. Rome wasn’t the only city falling under martial law.
To Tommy, it sounded as if the strigoi had gotten stronger and were out of control.
As his small group reached the barricade and were whisked through, Tommy gawked at the sheer number of Swiss Guardsmen and robed Sanguinists inside, both on the walls and up on the balconies surrounding the plaza. More armed men rushed in after them, before the gates were resealed.
It seemed the Church was pulling back a majority of its soldiers, protecting itself, leaving everyone else pretty much on their own.
Tommy was marched across the square toward the basilica. Even those massive doors had been covered in new metal plates.
“You’ll be safe in St. Peter’s for the night,” one of his guards tried to reassure him.
Maybe…
Worry for Elizabeth burned through him. She was out there. Somewhere. Who knew what trouble she faced? Tommy selfishly wanted her at his side. Only then would he truly feel safe. But he also knew there were some things even Elizabeth couldn’t protect him against.
He coughed into his hand, hacking loudly, doubling over in pain.
He stared at his palm.
Blood.
SIXTH
Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?
37
Erin held her breath as their helicopter climbed toward the knife-edge of the snowy mountain. The icy wall ahead soared to an elevation of twenty thousand feet, the outside limit of their aircraft’s ability to fly. When they reached the crest, their rotors kicked up swirls of snow, as wind batted the craft back and forth. The helicopter seemed trapped, balancing on that icy razor — then the nose dipped and they slid down the far side of the mountains.
Erin let out a loud breath, rolling her neck from side to side, trying to let go of the tension.
“Landing in ten,” Christian radioed back from the pilot’s seat, his voice irritatingly calm.
They had just crossed over the last range of mountains — the Ganesh Himal — and descended now toward a long valley. Giant sharp peaks surrounded them on all sides, which explained why this place had remained untouched by the modern world for so long. According to the ancient map that Hugh de Payens had supplied, a river should be meandering through the valley’s center, but below, Erin only saw a glaring blanket of uninterrupted whiteness. The river was likely frozen over and covered in snow this time of year. Maybe in summer this valley was a lush and verdant place, but right now it looked like an inhospitable wasteland.
Definitely no Garden of Eden.
Working circulation back into her legs, Erin stomped her heavy snow boots. The steel ice crampons clanged against the metal floor. Even though she was warmed by the cabin heater and decked out in winter gear, the cold of these mountains found its way down to her bones.
Or maybe it was simply the fear.
She glanced to the others, huddled in white parkas. While the cold-blooded Sanguinists had no need for such insulated gear, the snowy color offered good camouflage for this wintry terrain. Even the lion cub, with his white ruff and fur, seemed built for this expedition.
Everyone stirred, readying themselves for what was to come.
Erin craned her neck by the window and stared up at the sun. It hung in a bright blue sky, marred by a few smudges of cirrus clouds. It was a little more than an hour until noon.
Jordan noted her glance skyward and reached to squeeze her knee. “Who says the deadline is midday anyway? We may have more time than that to close the gates of Hell.”
She turned to him. His face bore only faint scars from the recent attack, but now his pale skin whorled and ran with crimson lines, covering half his face. Jordan had his parka unzipped, seemingly oblivious of the cold. Erin imagined if she took off her snow gloves, she could warm her hands off the heat flowing from him.
She took a deep breath and turned away, unable to stare at those lines any longer, knowing they marked how little of Jordan’s humanity remained. Still, a part of her felt guilty, even selfish, at her reaction to Jordan’s state. He had come back from the edge of death in France because of his angelic power and his human stubbornness. When the time came, he would have to decide which path to walk. And she would have to let him, no matter how much she feared to lose him.
To distract from these worrisome thoughts, she answered his question. “We have only until noon today.”
“Why do you sound so certain?” Rhun asked from across the cabin. His lion stretched on the neighboring seat, arching his spine into a bent bow.
Elizabeth answered Rhun before Erin could. “Look at the moon.”
Faces turned toward the various windows. A full moon hovered at the sun’s blazing edge.
Jordan leaned against Erin to see out. “Bernard mentioned that there would be an eclipse today,” he muttered. “But only a partial one, if I’m remembering right.”
“A partial one in France,” Erin corrected him. “This far east, it will be a total eclipse. I checked during the flight here. Totality will reach the Himalayas at one minute past noon.”
She remembered the mural painted on Edward Kelly’s wall. That bloodred sun above that black lake could have been the artist’s representation of a full eclipse.
Knowing this, she wished they had made better time getting here. Piloted by Christian, their Citation X jet had raced across Europe and Asia. En route, Bernard had regularly updated them by satellite phone on the conditions on the ground, about the surge of attacks erupting across the dark cities they flew over. The strigoi and blasphemare had grown bolder and stronger as the tide of evil spread, shifting the balance in their favor. But those monsters were only the spark of this firestorm. Simple panic did the rest, stoking those flames of chaos even higher.