Misguided Angel bb-5

by Мелисса Де Ла Круз

  "Simonetta!" Tomi cried. Simonetta de Vespucci was married to a nobleman in the Medici circle and was rumored to be no other than the great

  Lorenzo de Medici's beloved mistress. She had not been seen in the city for a while, and now Tomi knew why.

  "Do not come near me!" Simonetta cried, protecting her burgeoning belly. She was nine months pregnant.

  When she hugged her stomach, Tomi noticed a mark on her arm. It was the same as the one carried by the man from the Citadel.

  Simonetta was no mistress to the Medici.

  "Who is your lover?" Gio demanded. "Who is the father of your baby?"

  Tomi understood what he was really asking--under whose guise does the Dark Prince walk the earth once again? The Morningstar had returned, it was clear. But in whose form?

  When Simonetta answered, Tomi was not surprised.

  The girl named Andreas as the father of her baby.

  PART THE FOURTH

  FORKS IN THE ROAD

  FORTY-ONE

  The Petruvian Order (Schuyler)

  Schuyler found a small room for MariElena in the northwest corner of Santa Maria del Fiore, in a small hidden ancillary building that housed the Petruvian

  Order in the Basilica complex. They had arrived in Florence a few hours ago. When Schuyler released him from her compulsion, Ghedi had insisted they take the girl to the priests.

  It was a relief to be back in the world again, and the sight of the busy Italian streets, with tourists crammed into the plaza, had invigorated her.

  As far as she and Jack could tell, there were very few Petruvians left. They had counted only a handful of priests upon their arrival. The clerics had housed them in a room next to MariElena's, where they waited until the holy men were ready to meet them.

  There was a knock on their door, and another young African priest entered the room. "We are ready for you. Please come with me."

  He led them through dark passageways into a simple room. In contrast to the magnitude of the complex, it was a plain room with a table and chairs.

  Ghedi and two older priests were waiting.

  Schuyler and Jack took seats across from them.

  "I am Father Arnoldi. I understand that you stopped Father Awale from performing the cleansing rite."

  "Cleansing! He was going to kill her," Schuyler protested. "Explain to me how murder is possibly any part of your work."

  "When the order was founded by Father Linardi, we were given two directives by the Blessed Ones, and one was the continued purge of the

  Mistress's children."

  "The Mistress?" Jack asked.

  The priest nodded. "Lucifer's first human bride. It is said he gave her the gift of eternal life but she was destroyed by the first Petruvians."

  "Who are the Blessed Ones?" Schuyler asked.

  "The vampires, like yourselves. Our founders."

  "You're telling me that Blue Bloods sanctioned the killing of humans? Of innocent women?" Schuyler demanded.

  "They have been marked with the triglyph," the priest said, bowing his head. "They carry the Nephilim. For hundreds of years we have held fast to our mission. We guard the gate. We hunt down the contaminated."

  "The gate is a lie. Hellsmouth is nothing but a smoke screen. There is no gate there," Schuyler declared.

  The priests balked. "It is a sacred space. . . . That cannot be."

  "It is," Schuyler said. "We were there."

  "You entered the gate." Father Arnoldi looked sharply at Ghedi. "That is not allowed." As Jack had guessed, the human gatekeepers had been ordered to stay away from the site.

  Ghedi bowed his head. "It was necessary. The girl was there."

  "We were led there. Whoever took MariElena, they wanted us to know it was false," Jack explained. "They are taunting us."

  "Ghedi said Father Baldessarre was worried about certain things?" Schuyler asked.

  The priests shifted in their seats and looked uncomfortable. "Lately, there have been too many taken. Each year only one, or two at the most. But now we hear too many reports, and each is the same. The girls are taken, and when we find them, they carry the mark."

  "You will not kill MariElena," Schuyler warned.

  The old priest looked at her balefully. "She carries a dangerous enemy. It is better for her to die."

  Schuyler realized something. When they had first asked Ghedi to explain his connection to his grandfather, Ghedi had told them a story of his mother's death. "Ghedi, your mother, she had been taken. . . ."

  "Yes." Ghedi nodded. "She carried the mark. It burned in her skin. And her belly grew. She began to have visions and shakes. She spoke of Hell."

  "You told us she died in childbirth, and that the priests took you as an orphan. But the Petruvians killed her, didn't they? And took you in afterward."

  He did not deny it.

  "And yet you do not hate them," she marveled.

  "My mother was damned, Schuyler. And the child could not live. Not in this world."

  "We will not allow you to harm MariElena," Schuyler said. "There has to be a way to heal her."

  The conversation came to a stalemate, and the meeting adjourned. Back in their room, Schuyler rummaged through Lawrence's notes. "I think I found something that links Father Linardi, the first Petruvian, to Catherine of Siena." She held up a sheaf of letters. "I didn't think they were important, but now I do. Jack, these are love letters. Benedictus was Catherine's human familiar. She ordered him to guard this false gate. Which means that the real gate is still somewhere here."

  Schuyler tied the sheets excitedly. "Catherine was guarding the real gate, and used the Petruvians as a decoy."

  "But the Croatan know the gate is false, and if they are taking women, it means that the real gate, wherever it is, has been compromised somehow,"

  Jack said.

  "But if that's the case, wouldn't this whole countryside be overrun with demons already?"

  "Not exactly. What did Ghedi say? The raiders who took his mother--the flesh traders who took MariElena--they were human. Michael's strength still keeps the demons in the underworld."

  "But it doesn't keep humans out." Schuyler nodded. "They're taking the girls to Hell. That was why I couldn't locate MariElena in the glom.

  "We have to find Catherine. We have to tell her what's been happening here. This whole thing must be a mistake. The Blue Bloods can't have allowed this. . . . Michael and Gabrielle would never . . . Something has gone very wrong here.

  "We'll find Catherine," Schuyler said resolutely. "I have a feeling she can't be far. Lawrence thought she might be in Alexandria. He had meant to go there, but he'd wanted to check out Father Baldessarre first." She put away her grandfather's papers, and when she looked up, Jack's eyes were bright.

  What is wrong, my darling? she sent, and walked over to take his hand. We are safe. We will fight this horror.

  "I cannot go with you to Egypt," Jack said, gripping her hand tightly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "There will be more bounty hunters. We got lucky this time. But I cannot put you in any more danger. I must go back and face Mimi."

  Schuyler did not say a word, and held Jack's hand even tighter.

  "This is the only way, my love," Jack said. "For the two of us to be free, I must face the blood trial. I could never face myself if you ever came to harm because of me."

  Schuyler trembled. "They will burn you," she whispered.

  "Do you have so little faith in me?"

  "I will go with you," she said, even though she knew she would not. She had to finish her grandfather's work. She had to carry on the legacy. Innocent women and children were being slain in the name of the Blessed.

  "No. You know you must not," Jack said.

  You said we would never be separated, ever again.

  And we will not. Not ever. There is a way to be together always. Jack dropped to his knees and looked up at Schuyler with so much love. "Will you?"

  Schuyler gasped and pulled him to h
is feet. She was ecstatic and devastated at the same time. "Yes. Yes. Of course. Yes."

  It was decided, then. Shuyler would look for Catherine of Siena and the true Gate of Promise, while Jack would return to New York to fight for his freedom. But before they went their separate ways, they would seal their bond.

  FORTY-TWO

  The Road to Hell (Mimi)

  Mimi Force looked up at the Repository scribe sitting in front of her. "The Venators have crushed the coup.

  There will be no disbandment. For now the Coven stands."

  "I heard. Congratulations."

  "They're going to stick together and stick with me for now." Mimi pursed her lips. "If they know what's best for them."

  "I can't imagine you had me fetched from the basement just to crow over your victory, as deserved as it may be."

  "You're right; there's something else. The Repository report came in on the blood spell that hit me."

  "And?"

  "It was not sent by a member of the Conclave, nor from any vampire in this Coven."

  "No?"

  "No--and it wasn't from the Nephilim that Deming killed either."

  "Then who?"

  "I don't know. That's what we need to find out. And there was something else," she said. "When the report came in, I also got back the coat I was wearing that day. I found this in it." She showed him a cross, monogrammed with the initials O.H.P. "It's yours, isn't it?"

  Oliver nodded.

  "You put a talisman in my pocket. The only thing that can deflect a blood spell. I survived because of you."

  "I had a feeling you'd need it. But I didn't want to tell you because you probably wouldn't have accepted a talisman from me."

  "You're right, I wouldn't have." She would never have believed that protection from a Red Blood could amount to anything. The blood spell was the essence of malice, and a protection was its opposite. It was a form of self-sacrifice--fashioning a talisman meant that whoever gave it went unprotected himself, vulnerable to whatever evil lurked in the universe.

  "You don't have to thank me," Oliver said.

  "I haven't."

  "I mean, it's just my job. Can't have the Regent die on my watch, can I?"

  "I suppose not." Mimi couldn't look him in the eyes. He wasn't her type, even though he wasn't bad-looking, and most girls would probably find him cute, with those long bangs and puppy dog eyes. But no--that was not the emotion she was feeling.

  She was feeling something else. Gratitude. Affection. She had never felt this way for a boy before. She had experienced desire and lust and the agony of love, but had never fallen in like.

  She liked him. Oliver, she was beginning to realize, in the space of just a few weeks, was her friend, and she was his. They had never cared for each other in the past, but somehow, because they were both alone and in mourning, he understood where she was coming from, and didn't judge her for her fits of grief and rage. He'd been there. He was feeling it too.

  Plus, they worked together well. Because there was no attraction, no tension, they could laugh and tease and joke around. In the middle of this crazy mess, she'd made a friend.

  "Don't," he warned.

  "Don't what?"

  "Don't get all mushy. I still don't like you very much." He smiled.

  "I still don't like you very much either," Mimi said, even though she knew they were both lying. Her face softened. "Hey. Thank you. I mean it. Thanks for looking out," she said, trying not to cringe. It was hard for her to owe anyone anything, most of all a human.

  "I did a little digging around the Repository files. I thought you might find this interesting. According to the Book of Spells, a subvertio does not kill the immortal spirit. It only consigns them to the deepest circle of the Underworld."

  Mimi put the gold cross away. "Tell me something I don't know."

  "Listen, if you can find a gate and walk down the Path of the Dead, you can get him out. He can't do it on his own. But with the Angel of Death, he may be able to," Oliver said excitedly.

  "There's just one thing: who knows where the other gates are? I don't have time to go on another wild goose chase."

  "I went through the rest of Lawrence Van Alen's notes again. I think there's a real possibility that the Gate of Promise isn't in Florence, but in

  Alexandria."

  "Why are you telling me this?" Mimi asked.

  "The Venators have found your brother. He's left Florence. Jack refuses to turn himself in to them. He says he'll only submit to you. And he's alone."

  "I saw that report," Mimi said. "You are very crafty, my friend. My brother returns to the city to face his fate, and so you dangle hope that I might find

  Kingsley, in order to get me out of town. Why do you even care? With Jack out of the way, she won't have a choice but to return to you."

  "We can be in Cairo by nightfall," Oliver said, ignoring Mimi's taunting.

  "We?" She raised an eyebrow.

  "You'll need backup."

  "So . . . all roads lead to Hell." She rested her head on her hands. She could go to Egypt and rescue her love, or she could stay in New York and face her brother and sentence him to death.

  "Well? I doubt Kingsley is enjoying himself down there."

  Mimi stood up. "Pack your bags. We'll leave tonight. Tell the Venators to hold my brother until I return. I'll deal with him then. Who says I can't kill two birds with one stone?"

  Mimi smiled. She would have her love. Then she would have her revenge.

  FORTY-THREE

  Hunter and Hunted (Deming)

  Paul Rayburn was dead. He had exacted his vengeance on his mother's killers, but Deming had brought him to justice. She had done what she had set out to do. She felt the pain of his death in her blood and in her soul, but her determination was resolute. She faced the twin Venators sitting opposite from her. "He said there are others like him in the world. We must find them."

  Sam Lennox nodded. "Where will you begin your hunt?"

  "I went through his file. His passport was filled with stamps from the Middle East. That's where I'll start," she said. The Nephilim did not cycle through reincarnations. Their demon provenance made them Enmortal.

  "Are you with me?" she asked the brothers.

  "It beats staying around here waiting for Jack Force to show up." Ted shrugged. "I'll talk to the Regent, have another team assigned to that case."

  "Good. My sister will join us once we arrive." She smiled. "You'll like her. She's just like me."

  "Oh great," Sam said, exchanging a meaningful look with his brother. "There's two of them."

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the family, especially my husband and collaborator, Mike Johnston, and our baby girl, Mattie (who isn't a baby anymore but will always be our baby). Thank you to the DLC and Johnston families and all our extendeds. We love you.

  Thank you to my dear friends who supported me during the worst year of my life. Thank you to my publishing family at Hyperion, especially my editors and champions, Jennifer Besser, Christian Trimmer, and Stephanie Lurie; and my publicist and marketing gurus, Jennifer Corcoran and Nellie Kurtzman, who have been taking care of me from the beginning of my YA career. Thank you to my agent and best advocate, Richard Abate.

  I also want to extend a very special thank you to Dr. Luis Martinez, Dr. Steven Applebaum, Dr. Ramin Khalili, Dr. Cary Manoogian, and to all their nurses and office staff who took care of my dad during his battle with cancer, especially Stacey Christ, Kim Medeiros, Michelle Huber, Emma Martinez, Diane Saenz, Jessica Osorio, Vivian Montes, and Rose Ramirez. Thank you all for everything you did for Pop--our family will always treasure the loving care you provided, and we thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the six "bonus years" he enjoyed.

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