Antonio was growing increasingly restless, yet another cause for concern. Father Juan hadn’t discouraged the relationship between Antonio and Jenn. The truth was that there was something powerful about their love—something transcendent. He could only relate it to the love of God. There was danger there too, as evidenced by Antonio’s increasingly erratic behavior. It worried him that the vampire wasn’t eating regularly. Forced fasts could lead to uncontrolled binges. He worried that their vampire might bite Jenn by accident, or Jamie on purpose.
Father Juan pressed his fingertips to his temples. Jamie was another problem—a powder keg waiting to blow. He had prevented Jamie from returning to Ireland not because Salamanca needed him but because Jamie needed them. On his own in Belfast he would be dead within a week. He was a cunning and vicious fighter, but he had no inclination to hide, preferring instead to face down the whole world on his doorstep even if it would kill him.
On top of it all Eriko couldn’t lead, Holgar couldn’t trust, and Skye couldn’t perform even the most basic offensive spells.
At graduation the elixir had gone to Eriko. It was tradition that the best student receive it, and she had been the best. The others, including Jenn, had assumed that it meant Eriko was the leader. Father Juan wasn’t so sure about that, but he had hoped the group dynamic would come together in its own time.
Father Juan sighed. His team gave him headaches, but there were others that were worse. His phone rang, and he answered.
“It’s Dimitri.”
He knew the voice well enough to be able to ignore the false name it gave.
“How is your trip?”
“Terrible. I got the whole family here, even the cousins.”
“Is everyone playing nice?”
“They were.”
From the tone of voice Father Juan knew that the rabbi on the other end had lost his teams in their joint mission in Russia.
“I’ll send a care package,” he whispered.
“Da.”
Father Juan ended the call and then bowed his head in prayer. Two teams had gone in to fight, and now two teams were dead. What was happening in Russia could not be allowed to stand. The vampire lord there had to be stopped. He had to send his own team there, even if they weren’t ready.
A knock on his door caused him to lift his head. Dressed in his customary baggy sweats, Holgar was standing in the doorway. The first rays of the morning sun were just streaming through the window behind his desk. Father Juan looked at him in surprise. Of all his people, he had spent the least amount of time with Holgar.
The werewolf looked sheepishly at him. If he’d still been in wolf form, his tail would have been tucked between his legs.
“What’s wrong, Holgar?”
“It was the full moon last night.”
“Yes, and?”
“It seems I got out of the cage.”
For everyone’s safety Holgar had insisted that he spend full-moon nights in a cage. Werewolves only had a measure of control when in wolf form. It varied from one to another, and could also be affected by outside factors, including sleep, hunger, stress, and environment.
“Do you remember anything of what you did?”
Holgar shook his head. “Nej. I’ve got a bad feeling, though.”
“Why?”
Wincing, the young Dane shifted his weight and pursed his lips. “I woke up next to the carcass of a deer I had gutted.”
So far it wasn’t too bad. Father Juan, though, sensed that there was a great deal more. A priest learned these things. “And?” he prompted.
“The head was missing.”
“What do you think you did with it?” Father Juan asked, incredulous. He’d never heard of a werewolf removing a head and putting it somewhere else. It wasn’t a natural wolf behavior. Which meant it had to have stemmed from some urge of the human half of Holgar.
“I don’t know,” Holgar whispered.
Suddenly they heard the slamming of a door and running feet.
“Holgar!” Jamie shouted at the top of his lungs.
Father Juan squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I know what you did with the head.”
Skye bowed her head as she sat in Father Juan’s office. Holgar sat next to her, and Jamie sat on the far side of the room. She still couldn’t believe that Holgar had left a deer’s head in Jamie’s bed. It was so Godfather. Jamie was so furious, he had lost the ability to speak after the initial outburst. Holgar had also turned frighteningly quiet, his usual jocularity gone and replaced with a brooding mood that scared her.
It didn’t scare her half as much, though, as the look on Father Juan’s face. Something terrible had happened.
“What’s the news?” Eriko asked quietly.
“Not good,” Father Juan revealed. “The two teams in Russia have been lost. I’ll be sending you there shortly. Also, I had word this morning. The Resistance in New Orleans collapsed. With the help of the police, and the newly converted mayor, and their other new allies, including most of the voodoo community, the vampires retook the city. Of the human combatants there were no survivors.”
“They’re all dead? Marc, everyone?” Skye asked, her voice a whisper.
Father Juan bowed his head and crossed himself. So did Antonio.
“Sí, mi’ja, they are all dead.”
Skye heard someone in the room begin to sob and after a moment realized it was her.
“There’s more. The Spanish government made a treaty with the vampires this morning. They announced that hunters would cease all activities or be seen as enemies of the state. The Church will continue to sponsor and run this academy as long as it can, but things are grim.”
“It’s the end of the world,” Skye whispered.
No one in the room disagreed with her.
They were all gathered in the chapel to think, to remember, to pray. Jenn felt numb. They had been defeated in every quarter. Her sister, locked up somewhere deep in the heart of the university, was a vampire. The people they had trained and fought with in New Orleans were dead, and the city was more tightly controlled by vampires than ever. The Spanish government had given in, and the Church was probably making a treaty with the vampires even as the Salamancans sat in the darkened chapel like sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
“I’m not a leader,” Eriko said, breaking the silence. “It’s not who I am. I might be the Hunter, but I can’t be the one in charge.”
“There’s only one person here who can be,” Antonio said.
Jenn looked up at him. She knew she would follow him into hell itself if he asked her.
There were murmurs for a moment, and then Skye asked, “So, Jenn, when are you going to stop running from who you are?”
“Excuse me?” Jenn asked, shocked.
“You heard her,” Jamie growled.
“What are you saying?” Jenn asked.
“We need a leader, someone who can think like the enemy,” Skye said, staring right through her.
“I’m just Jenn,” she said, once again giving voice to what she called herself privately.
“Exactly,” Holgar said. “All the rest of us are pack animals. I’m a werewolf, born and raised in a pack. Skye is a witch, born and raised in a coven. Eriko is a product of a society that values the community above the individual. Antonio has been studying for seventy damn years to be a priest. And Jamie, as much as he likes to think of himself as a lone wolf, is just as much a pack animal as I am. His pack is the IRA.”
Jamie huffed but remained silent.
“You, Jenn, alone are unique,” Holgar continued. “Where you grew up and the way you were raised, you’re the only one who truly understands the value of the individual. Think of what you call yourself: ‘just Jenn.’ There is no pack for you—not your family, not even us. That makes you unique. That makes you the only one who can help us get inside the heads of the vampire masters who serve none but themselves.”
Jenn stared at him in shock. She thought of all the news stories she had h
eard as a kid, where people talked about the breakdown of the family culture and the increasing isolation of Americans, particularly those who lived on the West Coast. Combine that with the isolation that her family had experienced for years because of her grandparents.
And she realized suddenly that what she had always thought was a bad thing might just be the thing that could save them all. Holgar was right. Had she truly been a pack person, then the doubts she had felt about herself would have forced her to actually quit the team in an attempt to save them from her ineptness. Tempting as it had been, though, it was a decision she had never been able to make.
Thank God.
Because they needed her.
Because she had a place.
Because I am special.
She put down her pen and stared at the sentence. It was the first line in her new journal—which was to be the new Hunter’s Manual. The old one, Father Juan had told her, was outdated, created for such a different time, a different world.
The journal was a beautiful leather-bound book with gold edging on the heavy parchment pages. A thing of beauty, and importance. Father Juan had presented it to her after the others had filed out of the chapel.
“Write it all down, and remember it. You are not just Jenn. You are our hope.”
In her room at the Academia, she was aware that Antonio patrolled outside, keeping watch. Writing by candlelight in a sort of ritual of her own, she gazed down at the line.
Because I am special.
For the moment that was all she had to say. There would be more, much more, but the four words were like four candles, or the arms of the Crusaders’ cross that she wore on her sleeve.
Because I am special.
She shut the book and began to blow out the candle, before changing her mind. She sat back in her chair, and watched it glow.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Book One: Hades
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Book Two: Hel
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Book Three: Baron Samedi
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Crusade Page 34
