James Rollins - Blood Infernal

Erin didn’t like how Elizabeth’s smile widened at his attention.

Perhaps sensing Erin’s irritation, the countess swung to face Cardinal Bernard. “I suspect you did not bring me here to admire my ancestors’ handiwork. What is so urgent that it requires such a nightly sojourn?”

“Knowledge,” he answered her.

By now, they had reached the center of the church. Bernard clearly didn’t want anyone eavesdropping. Christian and Sophia kept to their flanks, slowly circling the group, likely both to guard them and to keep any stray priest who might be nearby from getting too close.

“What do you wish to know?” Elizabeth asked.

“It concerns a symbol, one found in your journals.”

He reached inside his coat and pulled out the worn leather book.

Elizabeth held up her free hand. “May I see it?”

Erin stepped forward and took it herself. She flipped to the last page and pointed to the symbol that looked like a cup. “What can you tell us about this?”

The countess’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “If you’re inquiring about it now, then I trust you have found the same symbol elsewhere.”

“Maybe,” Erin said. “Why?”

The countess reached for the book, but Erin moved it out of her reach. A flash of irritation crossed the woman’s smooth features.

“Let me guess then,” Elizabeth said. “You found the symbol on a stone.”

“What are you talking about?” the cardinal asked.

“ You are a gifted liar, Your Eminence. But the answer to my question is written across this young woman’s face.”

Erin blushed. She hated being so transparent, especially when she had no idea what the countess was thinking.

Elizabeth explained. “I’m referring to a green diamond, about the size of my fist, with this same marking upon it.”

“What do you know about it?” Jordan asked.

The countess threw back her head and laughed. The sound echoed across the cavernous space. “I shall not give you the information you seek.”

The cardinal loomed over her. “You can be made to tell us.”

“Calm yourself, Bernard.” Her use of his common name only seemed to irritate the cardinal even more. She was clearly enjoying pushing his buttons. “I said that I would not give you this knowledge, but that does not mean that I shall not part with it.”

Erin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Simple,” she said. “I shall sell my knowledge to you.”

“You are in no position to bargain,” the cardinal blustered.

“I believe I am in a very good position,” she countered, facing the storm growing in the cardinal’s stance with a steady calm. “You are frightened of this symbol, of this stone, of the events even now transpiring against you and your precious order. You will pay me what I want.”

“You are a prisoner,” the cardinal began. “You—”

“Bernard, my price is a slight one. I’m sure you’ll be able pay it.”

Erin gripped the journal more tightly, her eyes drawn to the countess’s triumphant face, dreading what was coming next.

The cardinal kept his tone guarded. “What do you want?”

“Something of very little worth,” she said. “Only your eternal soul.”

Jordan had stiffened next to her, as if expecting an attack. “What exactly does that mean?”

The countess leaned closer to the cardinal, her black hair brushing his scarlet cassock. He took a step back, but she matched it.

“Restore me to my former glory,” she whispered, her voice more seductive than demanding.

Bernard shook his head. “If you’re referring to your former castle and lands, that is not within my power.”

“Not my lands.” She laughed brightly. “I can get those back myself, should I have need of them. What I require from you is much simpler.”

The cardinal stared down at her, revulsion written on his face. He knew what she was going to ask for.

Even Erin did.

Elizabeth reached toward the cardinal’s lips, toward his hidden fangs.

“Make me a strigoi again.”

Elizabeth shivered in delight as shock washed away Cardinal Bernard’s usual calm composure. For a fraction of a moment, he bared his teeth at her, dropping his mask, showing his true nature. After centuries of sparring, she had finally managed to crack his façade of diplomacy and order, exposing the animal beneath.

I need that animal.

She would risk even death to unshackle it.

To the side, the archaeologist and the soldier looked equally surprised, but the best reactions came from the Sanguinists. The young Christian went stiff; the slim Sanguinist woman with burnished Eastern features curled her lip in revulsion. In their holy minds, such a request was unimaginable.

Then again, a failure of imagination had always been the Sanguinists’ chief sin.

“Never.” The cardinal’s first word was a low rumble — then his voice rose, bursting from his chest, booming through the church. “You… you are an abomination!”

She faced his fury, stoking it even more with her calmness. “Your priestly prudery holds no interest for me. And do not fool yourself, I am no more an abomination than you .”

Bernard fought to bottle back his rage, to tamp it down inside him, but the cracks continued to show. His fists were iron at his side. “We will not discuss such mortal sins in this holy place of worship.”

He yanked on her cuffed wrist, hard enough for the edge of the shackles to cut her skin. He stalked toward the back of the church, pulling the rest with him as if they were equally bound to the cardinal.

And maybe they were, in their own ways .

Elizabeth had to run to keep up with him, but she could not keep that pace. Her feet tangled in her long skirt, and she sprawled across the cold marble. Her handcuff bit deeper into the flesh of her wrist.

She kept silent, savoring the pain.

If he was hurting her, he had lost control.

And I’ve gained it .

She struggled to get her feet beneath her, losing a shoe in the battle. In her efforts to rise, she tore the shoulder of her dress. Aghast, she clutched it with her free hand to keep it from falling.

Christian blocked Bernard, touching the cardinal’s arm. “She cannot keep up with you, Your Eminence. Remember, she is mortal now, as much as she might not wish to be.”

Jordan helped her to her feet, his strong hands warm against her body.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the sergeant.

Even Erin came to her aid, reaching over and adjusting Elizabeth’s dress so that it did not hang down so. Despite the woman’s low background, she did indeed have a well of kindness, one deep enough to help an enemy in distress. Perhaps that was part of Rhun’s attraction to her — her simple kindness.

Elizabeth stepped away from the woman without offering her thanks. She kicked off her other shoe, so as not to walk with a limp. Cold stone pressed against the soles of her bare feet.

Bernard apologized through gritted teeth. “I beg your pardon, Countess Bathory.”

He turned and continued onward, but now at a more moderate pace. Still, anger was evident in each exaggerated step. He plainly could not appreciate what she wanted, what she demanded of him. He had been immortal so long that he had forgotten mortal desires, mortal weaknesses. But in doing so, he had also created a powerful weakness inside him.

And I will exploit it to the fullest .

The cardinal reached the far side of the basilica and led them down a set of stairs, likely heading to the buried Sanguinist chapel.

A dark space for dark secrets .