Faegen, Trinity - Mephisto Covenant, The

by BTKT

  “She knows you’re with us,” Denys said, standing next to the fresh flowers in the great hall.

  “How could she know?” “Because you’re marked, and Eryx told her.” “I thought as long as I was here, behind the mists, Eryx wouldn’t know.” “Oh, he knows,” Key said, glaring at Jax. “He just can’t get to you here. The instant we leave, all bets are off. This is why you have to go inside the church immediately, and leave by the exit we showed you on the map. Jax will be there, waiting. The rest of us will be at other exits, just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  They all exchanged looks before Jax said quietly, “Your mother may try to kill you, Sasha.” He pressed something hard and cold into her hand. “This is my switchblade.” He demonstrated how to open the blade by pressing one of the jewels embedded within the ornately carved silver handle.

  She remembered it from that night in San Francisco. This was what he’d used to stab Alex Kasamov. “Where did you get this?”

  “Key had it made for me in Spain, in 1783.” His smile was wry. “My seven hundredth birthday.”

  “Tell me I won’t need it.”

  He stroked her hair. “I wish I could. Slip it into your pocket, just in case. Remember, you’re enormously strong, far stronger than your mother, or any other lost one who might be in there with her. No matter what she says, don’t for one instant believe she has your interests at heart. Never forget what you know of the lost. Of Eryx.”

  Key came closer. “You have five minutes, Sasha. Ask your questions, say what you have to, then leave. If you’re threatened, don’t engage. Just leave. And remember, if you use the blade and kill a lost soul, Eryx wins. He becomes that much more powerful. If you see a Skia, run like hell.”

  “Skia can be inside a church? They can stand on holy ground?”

  “Yes, because they’re not born of Hell. Only the dark angels and the Mephisto are barred.” Key looked around at each of them. “Are we ready?”

  They all nodded, and Jax slipped his arms around her. Moments later, they stood beneath the portico at the entrance of the cathedral, less than six feet from the doors. She knew immediately something was wrong because Jax stiffened and his arms tightened.

  “I have a proposal for Sasha,” a deep voice said.

  She peeked over Jax’s arm and saw him—Eryx. Even while she stared in stunned surprise that he was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen, she recoiled in terror from the sight of his eyes. They didn’t reflect the suffering of mankind and the secrets of the universe. They were not of Hell, but of something infinitely more disturbing: nothing. They were like a doll’s eyes, dead and flat.

  “Get away from the door so Sasha can go inside and see her mother,” Key said.

  “Of course,” Eryx said in his deep, seductive voice. “But first, I’d like her to consider my offer to release her mother from her oath.”

  “In return for what? Her life?” Key laughed at him. “No deal.”

  Sasha wanted to look away from him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to speak, but her throat wouldn’t work. Jax’s arms were like a band around her, and his body was tense, ready to disappear with her in a nanosecond. One small move from Eryx, and they’d be back in Colorado before she could blink. Eryx must have known it, because he stood completely still, just in front of the doors.

  “I want the papers.”

  “You have the papers,” Jax said.

  “I have bullshit you put in the lockbox. I want the original journals, letters, photographs, and recordings Katya’s father and grandfather stored there.”

  “What makes you so sure there was anything else in the box besides what you found?”

  “Katya knew what was inside, and she assures me the contents have been replaced with trinkets. My proposal is good for another five minutes, the time it will take for Sasha to go in there and see what her mother has become. She can have her back if I can have the original contents of the lockbox.”

  “It’s no longer hers to give.”

  “Yes, I realize, but she’s with you now, so let’s call it a collective ownership issue. If she wants the deal, you’ll all go along with it.” Eryx was staring at her from those horrific eyes. “You can win your mother’s soul if you’ll just give me what I want.”

  He was a liar. She knew that. And yet, it was the greatest temptation to believe him. She turned her face into Jax’s neck. “I want to see my mother.”

  “Yes,” Eryx said, “go in and see her, know she’s doomed to eternal servitude to me, to find those whose souls are seeking, and she’ll give them hope, lead them to me. I’ve already promised her immortality, but you have the power to give her back the promise of God.”

  Jax began to move, walking her slowly toward the entrance, his arms still around her. Zee shouldered Eryx out of the way and opened one of the massive doors. Just at the threshold, Jax released her and she was inside, looking out. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Be careful.”

  Turning, she moved into the elaborate, ornate cathedral, awed by its splendor, even while she searched the rows of pews for her mother. There were a few worshippers, kneeling, forearms resting against the backs of the pews, hands folded, heads down, praying. She couldn’t see their faces—their eyes. Were any of these people lost souls or Skia?

  “Sasha!” A loud whisper came from her right and she turned, unprepared for what she saw. Her stomach heaved and her heart broke all over again. Her mother’s great, dark eyes—so beautiful—now obliterated by Eryx.

  Stepping into the pew, she went toward her and sat several feet away, aware of the switchblade in her pocket and that her mother was crying.

  “You hate me, don’t you?” “Mom, please, I only have five minutes.” “Did you look at the painting, Sasha?” “Yes.” “You don’t know it, because I painted over her face, but the

  girl in the picture is you.” She knew, but didn’t say so. She also knew Key had delivered

  the fake directly to Eryx, so her mother didn’t realize the real painting was still in Colorado. Eryx didn’t know the difference,

  and assumed he had the original because he’d found the microscopic code numbers to the lockbox.

  “I painted over your face because I didn’t want anyone wondering why you were in a five-hundred-year-old painting. Even Mikhael never knew it was you. I showed it to Alex, who told me the girl in the picture is Anabo, and what that means. He wanted the painting and offered a lot of money, but I wouldn’t sell, especially after what he told me. I was so afraid for you. When I arrived in Russia, a man named Rurik approached me, a man like Alex, and claimed I’d sold it to Eryx. He demanded I hand it over. I couldn’t, of course, even if I’d wanted to, because you had it.”

  “Melanie searched, and destroyed everything I owned, but she didn’t find it. It was all for nothing that I hid it so well, because you ended up giving the painting to Eryx anyway.” Not really, but Mom didn’t know the painting delivered to Eryx was a fake.

  “It was only a matter of time before they found out you’re Anabo, either because they’d find the painting and someone would uncover the girl’s face and see it was yours underneath, or someone would see your birthmark. I knew they’d kill you, so I took a chance. I asked Rurik, if I knew of an Anabo, and pledged my soul, would the Anabo be spared? He said yes, and I believed him.”

  She remembered Jane’s sister, who appeared to give her soul as the ultimate sacrifice, and Chris, who had traded his to save his father’s life—but both of them had a secret reason, hidden, and not selfless at all. “Four minutes, Mom. Tell me the real reason you did it.”

  “That is the real reason! But they lied to me, Sasha. As soon as I pledged, Rurik made me tell him who was the Anabo and demanded I hand over the painting. The irony that you’d already been found by the Mephisto, that you’ll never be in danger from Eryx, is killing me. You’re safe now, but I’m not. Please give him the papers. Please help me.”

  She wasn’t safe. No
t yet. Not until she became immortal. And she knew, intuitively, there was no saving her mother. It was a lie. If Sasha agreed to give Eryx the contents of the box, he wouldn’t release her mother from her oath. Sasha knew it, and so did her mom. “Melanie said Tim was in love with you. She said he would have left her, except that you picked Dad.”

  She’d hit a nerve, she could tell. Mom drew herself up and huffed out a breath, like she was surprised and annoyed. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Tell me. You can do that much, at least.”

  Her mother turned her face away. “I was still in Russia when I met Tim. I didn’t know he was with the CIA, or that he was married. I fell in love, but when I found out he had a wife and son, I told him I wouldn’t see him anymore. Then I decided to defect, and that’s when I met Mikhael. He was a good man, a kind man, and after I found you, he agreed to marry me so I could live in the United States and we could raise you together.”

  Sasha knew where this was going, and she almost got up and ran. She didn’t know if she could stand to hear it. “You didn’t love Dad, did you?”

  Slowly, her mother shook her head. “It was always Tim, but like so many things in my life, it didn’t work out. He wouldn’t leave his wife and lose his son, and I wouldn’t stay with him while he was married. He had a short affair after I left him, and that is how Christopher was born. Mikhael and I weren’t unhappy, Sasha, and we had you, which made everything better. He loved you so much.”

  She slumped back against the pew. “You pledged because you wanted a second chance, didn’t you? You thought Tim would leave Melanie and bring Chris and me to Russia, where we’d be one big happy family.”

  “I knew it would never happen as long as Tim believed I had something to do with Mikhael’s death. He discovered it was Melanie who had sold the information that got him killed, and she told him I provided it to her. I suffered death knowing he believed it of me.”

  “If you didn’t give her the information about Dad, who did?”

  “No one gave it to her. She was married to a CIA operative with high security clearance. She figured out his passwords and accessed his files, found out Mikhael’s alias, his cover, his location. She sold the information to Yuri Andreovich for fifty thousand dollars, and after Mikhael was killed, she confessed to Tim what she had done, but instead of confessing that she accessed his files, she accused me of giving her the information. He knew she was rabid, that she’d do anything to hurt me, yet he still believed her and despised me for what he thought I’d done to Mikhael.”

  “So you were promised that Tim would see the truth, that he’d believe your innocence and love you again.”

  Her mother was sobbing now, her face in her hands. “I wanted that so much, was so sure it would happen. But it was a hideous lie! Tim was already dead when I pledged, and now . . .”

  “Now, since you can never go back, you’d do anything to become Skia and live forever, so you sacrificed me.”

  She raised her head and said passionately, “I’ll make it up to you, Sasha, I swear it! Please, just give him the lockbox contents and help me.”

  “I can’t do it, Mom. I can’t give Eryx what he needs to suck more people in.”

  “You’re of the angels! Show mercy!”

  Sasha stood, wishing now that she’d listened to Jax, that she hadn’t insisted on seeing her mother, on knowing the reason she’d pledged. “I loved you, and I know you loved me, but it’s all done now. My time’s up. I have to go.”

  Her mom stood, too. “You’d turn your back on me? Your own mother?”

  “You’re not my mother. You’re a stranger.” Without another word, because what was there to say, she turned and walked toward the end of the pew, her hand inside her pocket, fingers

  wrapped around Jax’s switchblade. But she didn’t need it. Her mother remained behind, the

  sound of her weeping carrying through the cavernous cathedral, following Sasha as she made her way to the front of the church, headed for the corridor toward the Catherine Chapel, where the imperial families of Russia were entombed, toward the east exit and Jax, waiting on the other side.

  ---

  Jax paced back and forth outside the church, waiting. He checked his iPhone no less than a hundred times, every few seconds, wishing she’d hurry, that she wouldn’t take the whole five minutes. He regretted agreeing to bring her. Letting her out of his sight, even to go inside a church, seemed like the stupidest idea, ever. Key was right—what purpose did it serve to let her see her mother? All it could do was upset her.

  Four minutes left.

  Barely four thirty, and dusk had already settled over St. Petersburg, the sky turning sapphire, streaked with orange from the setting sun, the reflection turning the snow to purple. He walked closer to the door, checking the iPhone one more time.

  Three minutes to go. He stared at the door, willing her to open it. “Do you have something to eat?” a man asked in Russian

  from behind him. Turning his head, Jax said, “No.” “Spare some change?”

  He handed him a twenty.

  “Thank you.” The man pocketed the bill, but didn’t go away. “Are you waiting for someone?”

  “Yes.” “Why don’t you go in to wait? All are welcome.” Not all, but he didn’t say so. “I’m fine.” “There are some who believe God lives in every holy place,

  that no evil can touch them there.” He so didn’t need a religious fanatic bum preaching at him

  right now. He tried to ignore the man, staring at the door. It was killing him, the waiting. What if she didn’t come out in five minutes? What if, even at this moment, someone was hurting her? He couldn’t get to her, couldn’t protect her.

  “And some say evil exists everywhere, that only love can overcome, no matter where a man stands.”

  Turning his head, he looked at the old man, at his white beard and rheumy eyes. “Okay.” He looked again at his phone. One minute.

  “I saw the devil go inside. Do you think he intends to repent?” Jax jerked his head around again. “What did you say?” “Just a moment ago, up at the front of the church, I saw the

  devil go inside. Dressed all in black, with soulless eyes. I wonder if he’s come to swallow his pride?”

  It couldn’t be. Eryx couldn’t go inside any more than the Mephisto.

  “Then again, maybe it wasn’t the devil. Maybe it was just a man with evil in his heart.” “Who are you?” The old man came a little closer. “I’m here to give you a present.” “Why don’t you take that twenty and get yourself some sup-per? Go down to Anna’s. They take American money.” “I’ll do that, but first, don’t you want the present I promised you?” All he wanted was for Sasha to come through that door. The five minutes were up. He turned his back on the bum and stared at the door, begging God to bring her out safely. If only God could hear him.

  “I love you,” he heard Sasha whisper from behind him, but when he turned, there was only the old man.

  Except his eyes were no longer rheumy—they were so bright blue, they twinkled. Jax was suddenly overcome by a feeling so unfamiliar, he couldn’t name it.

  “Go with God,” the old man said before he walked away, fading as he went.

  Jax blinked, wondering if he’d just seen the eyes of God. “I’m here to give you a present.” Did he mean Sasha? “. . . don’t you want the present I promised you?” The Mephisto Covenant. God’s promise of an Anabo, of redemption.

  “I saw the devil go inside. Dressed all in black, with soulless eyes.” Was it a warning? Was he talking about a Skia? He’d spoken to him in Sasha’s voice. “I love you.”

  His whole life had changed because of three words, spoken by a girl with golden hair and eyes the color of the twilight sky above him. She couldn’t die. She was humanity’s best hope. She was his only hope. He would never survive if anything happened to take her away from him. Death and eternal Hell would be better than life without Sasha.

  He heard her scream, and his blood ran cold.
>
  Swallowing hard, he sucked in a deep breath, opened the door, and rushed inside.

  eighteen

  sasha didn’t linger and scarcely noticed the mosaic

  ceilings, the beautiful paintings, the elaborate gilt iconostas, grieving for her mother as if she had died. In a way, she had.

  Thinking of Jax, she walked faster. He must be beside himself, worried.

  She’d just passed the last tsar’s marble tomb when she heard running footsteps behind her. Steeling herself, she withdrew the switchblade from her pocket and sidestepped around the tomb, hoping it was just someone running for the exit.

  Instead, it was a tall man in black, his face hidden in shadow, a knife in his hand. He leaped over the tomb in one inhuman bound, and she scarcely escaped him by darting around the next one. He was Skia, much stronger than her. He was there to kill her.

  She leaped across the tomb at the end, into the walkway, booking it for the door. It hadn’t seemed so far away before. Now it seemed like miles.

  Her assassin caught her hair and jerked her backward. She felt his blade pierce her back, but he missed her heart, puncturing a lung instead. Time slowed to a crawl, and she prayed for her life, for Jax’s soul, for an end to Eryx.

  Eyes on the door, she stabbed backward with the switchblade, but only succeeded in hitting his leg. He loosened up on her hair, and she tore herself away from him, stumbling, unable to draw a deep breath, knowing she was about to pass out. If she could just make it to the door, she’d live. Jax would heal her.

  But she couldn’t run, could barely move, so when the Skia caught up to her again, she knew it was all over. She would die in this beautiful church, with painted angels as witnesses.

  The door opened, and she watched Jax run inside, his body and clothes instantly catching fire. He ran to her, his cries sounding as though they came from across the mountains, like an echo. “Sasha! Oh, God, no! Sasha!”

  She felt the blade pierce her back, and this time, the Skia didn’t miss. She collapsed, but not before she saw Jax reach for her, his body blistered, his clothes burning. She fell to the floor, then floated above herself, watched the Skia limp away while Jax gathered her up in his arms and rocked her to and fro, sobbing her name as he followed her into death.