“I went with my instincts, Ryder,” she explained. “Sometimes you just have to trust people.”
He rolled his eyes at her as they pushed the ancient iron gates open. They gave with a rusty creak.
The church stood proud and beautiful, its stone façade and white spire the tallest thing in the small town. Perched high on a hill overlooking-or, as it seemed, protecting-the homes and townspeople, it stood guarding the giant volcano Mount Etna, which towered over the church. As she stood back and admired the architecture, Angelique was awed by the fact that, despite constant eruptions and lava flow, this church had stood the test of time.
They had just reached the double doors of the church when they opened. Father Vintaldi’s grin greeted her.
“Miss Deveraux. So nice you have returned to us.”
“Buona mattina, Padre,” she said. “Come siete?”
“Benissimo. Fine. Fine.” He waved his hands, motioning them all toward him. “Come inside, per favore.”
“Grazie, Padre.” Once inside the cool shade of the church foyer, she said, “These are my friends. Michael, Ryder, Dalton, Mandy, and Trace.”
“Buona mattina. Any friends of Angelique’s are welcome here. Please, come in to my office. I have coffee.”
Michael cleared his throat. “Grazie, Padre, for the offer, but I’m afraid we can’t stay.”
Father Vintaldi’s face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.” His lips lifted in a genuine smile again. “We don’t often get visitors here.”
Angelique’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer. I just came for the. . rock you’ve been holding on to for me.”
“Ah. Yes.” He nodded. “It’s been quite safe here.”
“No one has come inquiring after it?”
The priest turned questioning eyes toward her. “Of course not. Just you bringing it here and now showing up again to retrieve it. We get very few visitors except for the town’s parishioners. Follow me.”
Angelique slanted a smug glance at Ryder, who shrugged and followed her.
Father Vintaldi led them into the church, down the main aisle, and up to the altar. Angelique crossed herself and genuflected as they climbed the cracked marble steps and turned to the left.
“I hid it in a secret room under the altar,” he said, keeping his voice hushed. “It’s accessible through my office. Un momento, per favore.” He took out a key, unlocked the door, and stepped inside a dark room. Moments later, he returned with the bag Angelique had originally placed the black diamond in. “Here it is.”
“Thank you, Padre. I will come back and visit soon. Now we must go.”
He motioned them to a side door. They exited into the bright sunshine and down the walkway.
Once outside, Michael frowned. “We need to get moving.”
“What’s wrong?” Ryder asked.
“We need to get to the car. Now” was all Michael said.
Picking up on his sense of urgency, Angelique grasped Father Vintaldi’s hands. “Grazie, Padre. Please, go inside the church and stay in there.”
“Something evil comes?”
“Si. Please, Padre, go inside. Hurry.”
“God go with you all.” Father Vintaldi made the sign of the cross with his hand, then hurried up the walk toward the side of the church. Angelique watched him open the door and step inside, then close it behind him. She refused to budge until she heard the click of the lock, wanting to be certain the old priest was safe. He had risked his life hiding the black diamond for her.
“Move, Angie.” Ryder grabbed her elbow and hurried her along the rocky path of the side road toward the SUV, already pulling his weapon. He tossed a sharp glance from one side to the other, as if he knew what he was looking for, but she didn’t see a thing.
Michael and Dalton were already at the vehicle, Mandy and Trace standing guard around it, weapons drawn. The doors were open and Angelique and Ryder were only ten feet away.
That’s when the demons materialized right in front of them, blocking them from the SUV.
Damn. And she was holding the bag with the black diamond. Why hadn’t she handed it off to Michael? Then it would have been safe.
Everything happened so fast, she didn’t have time to think. Ryder pushed her behind him and leveled his gun on the demons. She wore the special sunglasses and ear devices Ryder had given her for protection, so the sonic blast toward the demons only made her jump, didn’t hurt her ears. She took two steps back, wanting to give him room to fire.
That’s when she heard Dalton and Trace shout the warning, but it was too late.
Everything seemed to happen as if it were slow motion, like in a movie. Ryder turned around and leveled his weapon, seemingly at her. But that couldn’t be right.
Then she understood, because at the same time cold hands surrounded her. She turned her head and saw the demons, their leering faces appearing on each side of her.
She didn’t even have time to register shock. They were everywhere, all around her. So was the mist-white, yet so thick she couldn’t see through it, could no longer see Ryder. The demons, or maybe it was the mist, held her; she couldn’t move. The last thing she managed to filter through the thickening mist was more demons surrounding Ryder and the others, but then the mist swallowed her up. Dizziness overcame her and everything went black.
Isabelle sat in the old chapel, her hands clasped in her lap, nothing to occupy her mind for the past few hours except her own thoughts.
Which wasn’t a good thing at all, since her thoughts weren’t pleasant. It was bad enough she’d memorized every word of her mother’s diary. She had a very good memory, so the conversation with Michael and the other demon hunters was fresh in her mind, too.
The Queen of Darkness. One hell of a title, wasn’t it? And one she didn’t care to have attributed to her.
She’d always wanted to be famous, had craved a big archaeological find-one that would set her up for life. She would grace the cover of magazines. Hollywood would come calling. Maybe they’d even make movies about the great archaeologist and treasure hunter Isabelle Deveraux. And she’d finally make her mother proud of her.
Yeah, she’d had big dreams. But nowhere in her dreams was she going to be crowned Queen of the Demons.
The thought of it made her nauseous.
This whole place seemed ancient. Scary.
She wished Angelique was here, holding her hand, putting her arm around her. She closed her eyes, trying to find that certain something that connected her to her sister.
But it was gone. All she felt was. . emptiness.
I’m sorry, Angie. I never was a very good sister to you.
Why couldn’t things be different?