“Lucille?” a thickly accented, male voice asked.
My attention drifted to the left of the altar to a man in a black robe with red piping down the front. It was wrapped at the waist by a red sash.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Just a feeling I have,” he responded with a smile that revealed straight but slightly yellowed teeth. He wore thin, wire rimmed glasses that covered almond-shaped chocolate brown eyes. His coarse black hair was smoothed down and tucked under a skull cap that was red to match his sash.
“You’re Cardinal Trevisani?”
“I am.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Your Eminence.” I pursed my lips to keep the stupid grin in check. I turned to thank the priests for their help, but they were already retreating. I caught Father Martine’s eye and he simply smiled and nodded.
“We have much to discuss, Lucille. Would you care to sit?”
“I’d like to walk if that’s all right with you.”
“Very well. I’ll show you around.”
That itchy feeling followed me around everywhere and upgraded to skin crawling level within minutes.
“I was very happy when Father Thomas reached out to me, but it seems the circumstances have grown more dyer since the last time we spoke.”
“How much do you know about… me?”
He smiled faintly before responding. “My dear, I have seen and heard many things in my day. Tell me, Lucille. How much do you know of the Emperor Constantine?”
Skirting what I now knew was the papal altar, we moved away from the main corridor.
“Father Thomas mentioned him once. He told me the Emperor had a vision of God, telling him to put a certain symbol on his shields when going into battle.”
My wrist felt heavier with the reminder of my gift from the gracious priest. I made a mental note to go see him immediately after this all blew over. If I made it through to the end.
Stop it, Lucy. You have to make it.
We came to a stopping point in the North, or Right, Transept, as the cardinal described it. Everywhere we went, robed figures moved or sat in stillness like apparitions. Creaky wooden pews and our voices were the loudest sounds to be heard. Unless you had vampire hearing. In that case, you’d hear the pounding heartbeats, the ruffling of polyester, the small clearing of throats around the building, and every draft of air and footstep within fifty yards. But hey, for me, this was tomb silence, and it was heavenly.
“Yes, Constantine did not always accept Christianity, but when he did, he built a tomb and a wood Basilica for St. Peter, who was crucified by Emperor Nero and buried among common people in a necropolis, or ‘city of the dead.’
“There is much to this story, but I will get to the part that I believe concerns you and your quest. I won’t keep you long. Your presence is disconcerting for the both of us I’m afraid.”
Was he feeling the same itchiness? Weird. “I’m sorry, Your Eminence. I had no idea.”
“It will pass, my dear.”
We passed through the smaller corridor, which contained other altars and more worshiping apparitions.
“As I was saying, it is believed that Constantine buried two very important artifacts with St. Peter. One is said to destroy anything not created in God’s image, and the other is believed to offer salvation to those unnatural beings, essentially protecting them from the other.”
“You’re saying there really is something out there that is like an immunity to the Sword?”
He nodded. Sophie was right.
He continued before I could say more. “Much later, during WWII, Pope Pius XII ordered the excavation of the necropolis under the Basilica. Some would say he knew what was down there and feared bombings from the US and Britain.”
“So did they find anything?”
“Nothing was recovered, but night crews working on the excavation often went missing or later found murdered, rather brutally.”
I stopped mid pace and turned to him. There was one particular group of vampires that came to mind when it came to obtaining objects of great power. “So the First have the Sword of Michael?”
He contemplated it before answering. “No. I don’t believe so, Lucille. If an evil being were in possession of that much power, I do not think he would be in hiding.”
“What are you saying? They didn’t actually steal the sword?”
“They did steal a sword. That much we know from our records.”
I blinked and processed what he was telling me. “They didn’t steal the right sword. So the real one could still be buried here somewhere?”
“Our history is vast and doesn’t always align with yours, Lucille. But the one thing we know with certainty is that if this Sword exists, no one has found it, which means Constantine, or someone in his trust, was perhaps the last person who laid eyes on it.”
“You don’t think it’s here. It would have been discovered here too easily. So he planted a fake here, which the First have, but hid the real one somewhere else.”
“If you were entrusted with something so important, would you hide it in the most obvious place?”
“Probably. But I love a good fight.”
He grinned but didn’t comment. It probably wasn’t very Christian-like to condone fighting, but whatever. “Where is the other object that can give someone immunity to the Sword?”
“It was never discovered, and we have no records of when it was lost or where Constantine might have hid it. It could be with the Sword of the archangel, or it could be on the other side of the world.”
“There are no records of their locations? No one has tried to find them?”
“Lucille, these objects were never meant for us. They are a part of a history we were never meant to understand. Perhaps you have your own resources for such information, but I am afraid human histories can only offer theories and legends.”
After a moment’s pause, an idea flickered through my dense skull. If I wanted to play the game, I had to think like my enemies. “So the Sword could actually still be here?”
Cardinal Trevisani gave me a peculiar look, one that spoke very unholy words in reference to my IQ.
“I mean, a lot of people and… non-people still think it could be here, right?”
I explained my need for a sword while trying to convince myself I knew something about my father’s brand of manipulation, especially after being on the receiving end of it for so long.
After several more minutes, I had a blanketed sword strapped to my back, and I thanked the cardinal for his help. I reached up to tuck stray hair behind my ear when he suddenly grasped my wrist.
“Where did you get that, Lucille?”
His eyes zeroed in on the Chi Ro medallion on my charm bracelet. “Father Thomas gave it to me for luck.”
“I want you to know that whatever is spoken between us cannot be overheard by others, not while we are within these walls. You can do what you please with the information I’ve given you.”
“Okaaaayy.”
“I must tell you one more thing before you leave.”
10
My mind whirled with shock and renewed hope from everything the cardinal told me, but a plan was forming, along with my confidence. I raced to the small stone ruins of an ancient church where Gavin waited, not far from the Vatican.
Clouds threatened to blot out the sun for the rest of the day, and the biting chill skated up my arms, through the plum colored thermal I wore. But that didn’t detract from the view. I stepped inside and stood in awe of the sight in front of me.
The remaining rays of sunlight streaked through an arched window, above where Gavin stood with his back to me. I moved to his side and peered up at his beautiful face, highlighted by the warm glow. The white scar above his left eye appeared shiny in the light. The corner of his mouth tipped up at my unabashed appraisal. Mine curved to match it.
“So, is that it?” He referred to the giant, cloth-wrapped blade on my back.
“No, but
it’s something.”
“Bait or distraction?”
“Not sure yet.”
He caught up to my semi-laid plans in under ten words, with no effort at all. How did he do that?
I hated how in tune with me he was.
“No, you don’t,” he answered my stray thought.
I laughed. No, I didn’t. One of these days, I wouldn’t be surprised if we could have an entire conversation without talking.
“What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there’s something else on your mind. There’s anxiety and guilt that you’re trying to block.”
“It’s nothing. I just don’t want you to be worried. We didn’t find it yet, and we don’t have any leads.”
“We will. I know there is something in those books. Sophie will find it. Don’t worry, love.”
Unable to shed some of that guilt, I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He brought me and my new metal friend into a hug, and I buried my face into his chest, letting his scent sink into me like the calming lavender oil Holly always used in her apartment.
We left the church, hand in hand, and we walked down the streets at a normal speed. The buildings on either side of us stretched up from stacked stone into elongated windows with ornate coverings and skinny shudders. Every piece of this town looked handcrafted and well preserved. The architecture was impressive and timeless.
We passed a few people who gave us kind smiles and the traffic picked up in the streets. The peace lasted a few fleeting minutes before it was broken.
Rounding a corner, the smell of blood put me on high alert. Gavin stiffened beside me, and I knew he smelled it too.
Cautiously, we followed the scent as it grew stronger toward the opening of a tall building made of crusting plaster. The narrow, brick walking path was the only accessible route inside, and the doorway was darkened by the neighboring building and stormy skies.
I stepped toward it but was instantly yanked back by Gavin’s hand on my wrist. “Lucy, this doesn’t feel right.”
“I know exactly how it feels. It’s the same feeling I’ve been having for months. Powerless and the opposite of having a choice. You know I can’t ignore it, Gavin.”
His eyes did their intense thing, searing my insides into molten lava. He hated it, but he understood, and he would stick by my side, even if I were standing in the middle of a blazing fire. Who needed vows for ‘until death do we part’ when the words were written in his eyes and, literally, branded on his soul?
I hoped to convey the same message in my eyes, but he perfected that look. He grinned but loosened his grip on my wrist. I turned back to the ominous doorway and moved forward, pulling away from his grasp.
Two steps away from the opened door, something came tumbling out of it, and I tensed for a fight, but stood in horror as I saw what it was. A body, cold and pale, drained of blood. I fell to the ground to check for any signs of remaining life, distantly hearing Gavin shouting my name, but the rest happened too fast for my warning bells to chime once.
Hands grabbed me, tugging me through the doorway and into a dark room. A room that happened to be filled with assassins. I was relieved of my weapon rather forcibly and tossed to the ground. Gavin was there to help me stand, but they closed in on us. As my eyes adjusted, I locked onto an opening in the concrete floor, where a figure ascended the stairway I assumed led to an underground tunnel.
Damn. I thought we had that little eight or so hour reprieve from this shit. Whatever happened to the days when vampires feared being burned alive by the sun? Those days were nice.
My father approached, and one of his lapdogs handed him the sword. Strange that they seemed to be under his command. He unwrapped it and studied the distressed metal, the intricate carvings on the hilt, and the Latin engravings at the bottom of the blade. His creepy red eyes blazed with triumph and something similar to hope.
Then, he turned those crazed eyes in my direction. “My darling daughter. Thank you for your help in retrieving this beautiful relic.”
“That’s mine. I’ll be leaving with it now.” I felt Gavin’s arm brush mine as he moved closer.
A dozen assassins chuckled like I couldn’t rip their spines out of their throats. I smiled, biding my time. I might not have been ready to face the thing that helped conceive me, but I had more power coursing through me than they perceived. I was still growing into it each day, and I would be killing them at some point. They were the ones out of their element here, weakened by the daylight.
“I’ll have to test its power, of course, but this saves me the hassle of stealing it from the old geezers.” My father continued as if I hadn’t threatened him, so like Shane.
I wondered if he got it from Shane, or if Shane got it from him. I’d bet money there was a bit of a bromance brewing between the two.
“How the hell could you choose to become this evil thing?” I swept my hand from top to bottom, encompassing all of his douchiness.
He heard that. His head whipped from the sword to me. “Choice? Oh, sweet, innocent girl, I didn’t choose this, but I’m quite glad it chose me.”
“What does that even mean, crazy ass?”
If Gavin moved any closer, we’d be entering into inappropriate levels of PDA. Fear of my father’s retaliation faded after our last encounter. I was only interested in learning and understanding him.
“Let me tell you a little origin story, Lucille. The car accident that claimed your father and brother didn’t exactly happen the way you were told. I almost died, but I was able to crawl out of the car window to check your brother. Alex was unconscious in his car seat, and there was blood smeared over his dark curls.”
Wetness gathered in my eyes. I heard my brother’s name when I was little, so I knew what it was, just like I knew my father’s name was Richard. He looked like a Dick to me, but I never thought of their names when they came to mind. They were never real. My brother was never real to me, but hearing this, I felt his loss as if it were fresh, not nineteen years ago.
“As if possessed, I reached out, wiping a line of the warm liquid away from his eyes, but the scent hit me hard, just as it did to you when you turned. I brought the small drop to my mouth, and that was all it took. Unlike you, sweet girl, luck was not on my side. The man you nearly drained lived, but Alex’s little heart gave out within seconds, and he died while I had his blood in my system. Fate can be a real bitch like that, but I have no regrets. I’m free, and you don’t know what you’re missing, Lucille. It’s too bad you chose the wrong side.”
Still reeling from the figurative punch to the gut that was my family history, I didn’t notice, let alone have time to react to, the sword slicing toward me, through me.
Gavin roared in fury but caught me in his arms as I sank to the ground. The pain replaced the shock when I looked down at my stomach. Dread swept through me at the sight of my insides trying to make their way outside. The blade tore through skin and muscle, right to the miles of intestines. Gavin held one hand around my back and snaked the other under my knees to lift me, curling me so that my wound pinched together.
Shock waves of ice and fire wracked my body with every small movement, like having rusty barbed wire being dragged through my insides. My hands shook violently when I tried gripping Gavin’s shirt. My whole body convulsed under the trauma.
“Hold on, Lucy.” Gavin whispered words of hope as his voice betrayed urgency.
When I glanced back at my father, we were somehow standing by the doorway, and soft rays of sunlight poked through some of the clouds, streaming in through one of the windows on the other side of the room.
Assassins scattered to the shadows and some retreated into the tunnels. My father’s eyes studied me, narrowing on my wound, which didn’t show any signs of healing. Kind of disturbing, but I was hoping the cardinal was right when he told me the sword might hold some power, as it had been sitting in one of the holiest places on earth for centuries, absorbing that en
ergy.
Gavin checked for signs of attack, but when the coast was clear, he pivoted.
“Wait!” I shouted with waning energy. It came out small and winded.
He stopped to shoot me a hard, questioning glare like I was crazy, but I was preventing him from fulfilling his life’s purpose. I couldn’t blame him.
“I just want to see something,” I added softly.
His jaw ticked, but he obliged, like a good boyfriend would. The pain was almost forgotten. Almost.
My father stepped from the shadows, taking his cues from my lack of healing. His attention shot to the shaft of light shooting across the room, landing in a bright spot on the floor in the middle of the room. I saw the intent in his eyes.
He wanted to walk in the sun. Because he couldn’t. I had my suspicions, but this confirmed it. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something to go off of.
Gavin saw it too, deciding it was time to go. He whisked me out of the room before Dick realized it wouldn’t work.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, I couldn’t apply pressure to my wound. Warmth seeped out onto the arm covering it.
“Hang in there, gorgeous. Please, don’t fall asleep yet. Not yet.” Gavin’s voice hitched as he choked over the last words.
I wanted to assure him I’d be fine, but the coldness filtrated my bones, and my arm flopped over my side, hanging limply. I no longer had the strength to lift it, and my head lolled to the side, landing heavily on Gavin’s shoulder.
We slowed and came to a stop, but I couldn’t focus on my surroundings.
“Please stay with me, sweetheart.” His words came out slurred now, and I realized his fangs had descended when I heard them tear through his skin.
The smell of blood hit me like a railroad spike to the chest. My fangs descended in the hopes of a six course meal. His blood smelled divine, and I only hoped I’d have the same luck with it that he had with mine. It had saved me once, but I was a full fledged Daymarked vampire now, unsure if the Shadowmarked blood would still be as welcomed in my system. I guess we were about to find out.
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