The Roman(71)

Raven fell silent.

The woman looked at her watch. “It’s your decision, but you must choose quickly. Your presence puts me and many others at risk.”

Raven’s mind moved slowly from scenario to scenario. She knew she was still feeling the after-effects of the sedative, so her ability to feel strong emotions was somewhat depressed. Even so, she found it difficult to choose an action that would cause more pain to Cara.

“It isn’t my place to persuade you,” the woman interjected. “But you should know that your current identity poses a risk to your family.”

Raven lifted her eyes to meet the woman’s. “Someone wants to kill me?”

“Someone wants revenge that will probably end with your death,” the woman corrected her.

“Who?”

The woman smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt. “There are at least two creatures of the underworld who bear a lot of anger toward someone who was close to you. Let’s leave it at that.”

Raven caught her meaning immediately. “I could return to the Jesuit house and escape the creatures, but Father Kavanaugh will take away my memories.”

“You should also consider your family. Unless someone is willing to protect you and your family for the rest of your life, all of you are vulnerable.”

Understanding washed over her. Raven nodded.

“Time’s up.” Sarah stood. “If you’re prepared to do this, we must get ready now.”

Raven closed her eyes. She thought of her sister. She thought of her mother. She thought of her sister once again.

So much pain. So much death. Even if the Curia decided to send her back to Florida, the Roman might send someone to hunt her, just for spite. Without her memories of William and his world, she wouldn’t know how to protect herself. And she wouldn’t entrust her safety and the safety of her sister to the Curia.

“I’m ready.”

The woman led Raven down the hall and into a back room.




Less than an hour later, Raven climbed into a black Mercedes M Class. Her long black hair had been cut to her shoulders and dyed a dark red; her green eyes had been covered with blue contact lenses.#p#分页标题#e#

The male driver placed her luggage and her new wheelchair in the back of the vehicle while the mysterious woman handed her a very expensive handbag. “Your passport for your escape from Italy is inside. You’re Portuguese, from Braga.”

“I don’t speak Portuguese.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re staying within the European union  , so no one will check your passport at the border. You will be given your new identity before you reach your final destination.” The woman handed her a piece of paper. “Memorize this number. If you see someone from your old life, telephone this number and ask for Matthew. If you are threatened or your identity is compromised, travel to Geneva and report to the Trivium Bank.”

“A bank? What can they do?”

“Wear this at all times.” The woman looped a gold necklace over Raven’s head and pointed to the two items suspended from it. “The vial contains a small but powerful relic. Don’t take it off.

“The gold charm has a number stamped on it. Present the number at the Trivium Bank, and they will assist you.”

A few minutes later two young women entered the vehicle. One sat in the front and one in the back next to Raven.

“What’s going on?” she asked Sarah, who still stood next to Raven’s open door.

“It’s safer to travel in a group than to travel alone. Don’t engage in conversation with them. Your driver has instructions about what to do in case of emergency.” The woman extended her hand and Raven shook it. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

The emotion of the moment caught Raven unaware. She blinked back tears.

Sarah closed the door, and the driver started the car.

They exited the hidden garage at the back of the building and drove through the streets of Florence until they reached the highway, heading north.





Chapter Fifty-Seven



IN THE SPACE BETWEEN THREE WORLDS, two beings argued over a man’s soul.

“There’s nothing for you here,” the dark angel said, his voice like the scraping of fingernails against a chalkboard. “This soul belongs below.”

“It is not for you to determine the place a soul belongs after death,” the saint rebuked.

“This soul is ours.” The dark angel reached out his hand.

The saint blocked the demon, standing over the soul that lay prostrate between them.

The dark angel roared. “His soul is damned!”

“He repented at the end.”

“Repented?” The dark angel sneered. “He fully embraced the deadly sins. He abandoned hope and allowed Despair to own him!”