James Rollins - Blood Infernal

Jordan heard her, glancing back with a grin. “Actually, it is possible. If you bombard a certain kind of mercury with neutrons. Unfortunately, the process costs more than the gold it produces. Plus, the gold ends up being radioactive and decays in a couple of days.”

Elizabeth gave an exaggerated sigh. “So it seems modern man has not given up his old obsessions.”

“The furnace and the larger flasks are original,” Tereza said, continuing her dialogue about the old alchemists’ attempts to brew an Elixir of Eternal Youth. “We found a vial of that elixir bricked up in a secret safe in the wall of this room. Along with a recipe to make it.”

Now it was Erin’s turn to scoff. “You can make it today?”

Tereza smiled. “It is a complicated process, with seventy-seven herbs, gathered by moonlight, infused into wine. The brewing takes a full year, but yes, it can be done. In fact, it is being made by monks in a monastery in Brno.”

Even Elizabeth looked surprised by this bit of trivia.

Erin studied this five-hundred-year-old time capsule of the alchemists’ world. She moved through the room, examining the furnace and glassware. She spied a small door behind the furnace.

Must be that tunnel to the castle .

Rhun suddenly appeared at her side, clutching her arm. She turned, only now noting how the Sanguinists had gone stone-still, looking up. Even Elizabeth cocked her head, her nose high.

“What is it?” Jordan asked. His hand instinctively went to his waist, where he normally holstered his machine pistol, but due to the Czech gun laws, he hadn’t been allowed to pass through customs with any firearms.

“Blood.” Rhun whispered, gazing toward the tunnel that led up to the rooms above. “Much blood.”

The blood is hot upon my tongue…

Legion knew it was not actually his own tongue. His body — rooted deep inside the black vessel of Leopold — lay sprawled in the back of a rumbling vehicle. The windows were darkened, shadowing the burn of the late-afternoon sun. He sensed sunset was near, but until then, he must hunt from afar, peering out other eyes, directing his will into those who bore his mark.

Closer at hand, the Sanguinist woman — Abigail — controlled the vehicle, this great rumbling black horse that spewed clouds of poison in its wake. She seemed oblivious of the sun. The wine of the Sanguinist protected her from the light, its holiness acting like a shield.

Legion was determined to brand more like her, to create forces that could move in light and darkness, swelling his ranks for the war to come.

Blood called to him again, drawing his awareness back to the slave who feasted on the old woman in the small room, a space full of dried herbs, dust, and books. He extended his senses farther, seeing out of three more pairs of eyes. Three more slaves, who were bound to his will, skulked through dark tunnels, closing in on the prey hidden below.

Legion had gathered these and others to this city, to destroy that ancient prophecy imbued into the body of the trio: the Warrior, the Woman, and the Knight.

He would allow them no rest, no safe refuge.

The mortals he intended to kill, but the one called Korza…

You will be my finest slave, a weapon to wield against Heaven .

But first, Legion needed to flush that Knight out into the open.

He lifted his hand, watching the whorls of blackness swim across his palm. He sent out a command to those who bore his mark.

Kill them… but save the Knight for me .

Standing in the furnace room, Jordan pulled Erin behind him. Rhun, Sophia, and Christian drew blades and kept watch on the far stairwell that led up to the museum.

“What are you doing?” Tereza asked, noting the weapons, covering her throat with her hand.

Erin took the woman’s other hand. “Stay close.”

Jordan stepped over and grabbed the only weapon in view: an old iron fireplace poker that lay propped up against the furnace stove.

Not the machine pistol he missed, but it would have to do.

Elizabeth noted him arming himself and did the same. She picked up a flask by its spout and shattered the bulbous base, creating a glass dagger.

Tereza gasped at the damage, but she kept to Erin’s side.

“Smoke,” Rhun said by the door.

Jordan shifted enough to peer over his shoulder. From the stairwell on the far side of the tunnel, a roll of sooty blackness flowed from the steps into the tunnel. The upstairs must be on fire.

“My… my mother,” Tereza said. She began to step forward, but Erin restrained her.

And with good reason.

From out of that pall of smoke, a dark figure appeared. It dropped into a crouch, revealing a large shaven-haired man with a muscular physique. He clutched a long knife in one fist. His white T-shirt was stained with the crimson of fresh blood. He bared fangs, sniffing at the air, hunting for them.

As he did so, Jordan spotted a five-fingered black brand on his throat, marking him as an enslaved strigoi , like the one who had attacked them in the cavern in Cumae.

Sophia hissed with recognition.

The strigoi lowered his gaze at the noise — then lunged forward, moving with incredible speed.

Rhun leaped forward into the tunnel, meeting the charge of the creature. The priest held a silver karambit in each hand, the curved metal blades looking like long claws. He slashed out as the beast reached him — but found only empty air.

The strigoi feinted low, then spun, striking out with his knife. But at the last moment, he turned its blade and smashed the steel hilt into the side of Rhun’s head. The blow knocked Rhun against the tunnel wall, clearly dazing him.

The strigoi barreled past him, going straight for Sophia and Christian.

Elizabeth shifted forward, concern ringing in her voice. “Rhun…”

Jordan pushed Erin and Tereza farther back. A moment too late, he realized the error of his defense. The creak of old hinges sounded behind him. He swung around in time to see a dark shape burst forth from the small door that led to Rudolf’s secret tunnel.

The strigoi ripped Tereza from Erin’s grip and tore into the young woman’s throat, drowning her surprised scream with blood. Another strigoi followed on that one’s heels, going straight for Erin with a long blade in hand.

Jordan was already moving by then. He reached Erin, spun her by the arm behind him, and blocked the strigoi ’s blade with the length of his poker. As steel rang off iron, one thought rose in Jordan’s mind.

I shouldn’t have been able to move that fast .

He had no time to comprehend this mystery, only be thankful for it.

The strigoi snarled, drawing back his blade and crouching in surprise. Behind him, the other beast finished with Tereza and joined his partner, hissing blood at Jordan. For the moment, they seemed cautious of Jordan, wary of his speed and strength.

Then Christian and Sophia joined him, flanking him to either side. Christian lifted a long sword, while Sophia carried two daggers, one in each hand.

Three against two… I like these odds better .

Then a third strigoi appeared from the furnace-room tunnel, a massive giant, an ogre of a beast.

So much for those odds.

To the side, Erin grabbed a pair of metal tongs, readying herself to help. “We must get out into the sunlight!”

Easier said than done.

And the sun was close to setting.

Crashes behind him told him that Rhun and Elizabeth were still struggling with their first adversary in the tunnel. So that way was blocked. Plus the stairs leading up were on fire anyway.