Innocent Blood(122)

Arella took a halting step, then another.

She seemed to concentrate the last of her glow around the boy, leaving herself defenseless against the onslaught.

She took yet another step—then finally fell out of the darkness, onto her knees, cradling the boy in her lap. Her dress was rags, her skin mottled with black pocks and dark scratches, her black hair gone a ghostly white.

Erin rushed forward as the woman toppled to her side. She grabbed Tommy by the armpits and hauled his limp form farther away from the darkness.

Jordan scooped up Arella and did the same.

“We need to get them out of here,” Erin said. “As far from this foul place as possible.”

By now, the fighting had ended in the room.

Any remaining strigoi seemed to have fled along with Iscariot’s retreat.

Rhun and Bernard joined her, but the countess pushed between them, coming swiftly to the boy’s side.

“His heart,” Elizabeth said, her eyes truly scared. “It weakens.”

Rhun nodded, as if hearing the same.

“He cannot heal with this still in him,” Elizabeth warned.

Before anyone could urge caution, the countess grasped the shard, pulled it from the boy’s neck, and hurled it across the room. Blood continued to flow from Tommy’s wound.

“Why isn’t he healing?” Erin asked.

They turned toward the discarded blade.

From a tunnel near its resting place, a figure appeared, melting out of the darkness.

Iscariot glared at them with a cold fury.

He then gazed at the drape of Arella on the ground and quickly recovered the shard from the floor. Distracted by grief, Iscariot cut himself on the blade. It sliced into his finger, which spilled golden drops of light instead of blood.

With a cry of shock, he fell back.

Jordan fired at him, sparking rounds off the stone.

Rhun rushed forward, sweeping across the room with the speed only a Sanguinist could muster, his karambit flashing silver in the torchlight.

Then Iscariot was grabbed and thrown back into the tunnel.

And another came out to confront Rhun in his stead.



8:06 A.M.

Rhun drew to a sudden stop, frozen by shock and disbelief. He stared at the monk, at the familiar brown robe, tied with a rosary, his spectacled countenance looking forever boyish.

“Brother Leopold?”

Back from the dead.

Leopold lifted a sword, his face set and severe.

Rhun gaped at him. His mind tried to explain Leopold’s actions, the fact that he still lived. A thousand explanations flitted through Rhun’s head, but he knew each one to be false. He must face the harsh truth.

Here stood the Sanguinist traitor, the one who had been in league with Iscariot all along.

How many deaths lay at the feet of this one, someone he called friend?

Faces and names flashed through Rhun’s silent heart. All those he had mourned. Others he barely knew. He pictured the train engineer and his coworker.

But one name, more than any, ignited the fury inside him.

“Nadia died because of you.”

Leopold had the good graces to look pained, but he still found justification. “All wars have casualties. Better than you and I, she knew this and accepted it.”

Rhun could not stomach such platitudes. “When did you begin to betray the order? How long have you been a traitor?”

“I have always served a higher purpose. Before I took my Sanguinist vows, before I drank my first cup of Christ’s blood, I was already set on this path by the Damnatus. To help bring Christ back to the earth.”

Rhun frowned. How could that be? Why was Leopold not burned like other strigoi who sought to deceive the order by swearing false oaths?

Rhun found his answer in the shine of devotion in the other’s eyes.

Leopold had not sworn falsely when he took his vows. With all his heart, he had believed he was serving Christ.

“We mourned you,” Rhun said. “We buried your rosary with full honor in the Sanctuary, as if you had fallen in service to Him.”

“I do serve Him,” Leopold said firmly. “If I did not, why does consecrated wine still bless me even now?”

Rhun faltered. Was Leopold’s devotion that absolute?

“You must see the truth of my words,” Leopold pleaded. “You can join us. He will welcome you.”

Astonishment filled Rhun. “You wish me to leave the Church and join this betrayer of Christ? A man who joins forces with the strigoi?”

“Have you not done the same with the strigoi?” Leopold motioned to Elizabeth. “The heart must follow what it knows is right.”

Rhun was stunned—which was what Leopold in all his cunning had wanted.

He lunged at Rhun, swiftly, savagely, leading with his sword.

Rhun pivoted at the last moment, his instincts reacting faster than his mind. Leopold’s sword sliced his side, through his armor, cutting to his ribs. Reacting as heedlessly, Rhun slashed out with his karambit.