Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

She’d better find this Key thing tonight, or she’d go completely insane. There was only one more area left to search—deep under the church in the catacombs.

Excitement rose inside her. The ten o’clock bell had chimed a while back. The sisters would all be in their cells, settling for the night. No doubt they’d be down on their knees, praying to a god who couldn’t be bothered to answer.

Roz glanced around her own cell. Ten feet by ten feet, bare stone walls, a flagged floor, and a small window, too high up to look through, with no glass, just bars. Now, in the height of the summer, it let in warm, lavender scented air. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like in the winter. A shiver ran through her just thinking about it.

Staring up at the ceiling, she forced herself to wait another hour, going over in her mind what she would do when she was free. In more than five hundred years, she’d seen Asmodai maybe a hundred times, but still he controlled her life totally. Told her what to do, where to go, when to disappear and give up her old life. In his own way, he’d kept her safe, taught her how to hide in plain sight, and warned her of the potential dangers.

Apparently, it wasn’t only humans who would hunt her down, but also other things. He hadn’t gone into details, just told her that under the Shadow Accords, the laws that bound the supernatural races, she was considered an abomination that could—and would—be killed.

Abomination.

Yeah, that was her.

Fuck them all.

She’d do this last task and she’d vanish, make a life for herself somewhere warm and sunny, away from the darkness.

When she was sure everyone was sleeping, she rose to her feet, brushing down the heavy habit and adjusting the headdress. She would be so happy when she could toss it in the bin. The sun had gone down, and she lit a candle—she’d pinched the batteries from the flashlight the first time her vibrator had run out—and quietly opened the door. The light flickered off the walls of the corridor, throwing strange shadows, never quite lighting the dark corners.

She understood better than anyone what lived in the dark places, but surely, this hallowed ground would keep the night creatures at bay.

After making her way through the convent, she headed toward the church, hesitating before the huge double doors. Placing her palm on the wood, she pushed. The door eased open a mere sliver, and she slipped through. For a minute, she stood just inside, breathing in the scent of beeswax and gazing around her. Candles were always kept alight in the church, and she could see clearly. The steps to the catacombs were at the far side of the nave, past the altar, but again she hesitated.

Something wasn’t right. There was a chill to the summer air. This was her tenth night here, and the atmosphere felt different. She told herself she hated this place, but in fact, the calm ambiance soothed her. Usually. But not tonight.

Swallowing down her unease, she hurried along the aisle between the wooden pews. At the far end, a locked oak door led down into the catacombs—she’d stolen the key from the Mother Superior’s office earlier that evening. The wood creaked as she pushed it open. Raising the candle, she breathed in deeply, filling her nostrils with stale, musty air. At the same time, a sense of excitement gripped her, because far below her, she could sense the presence of the Key. The stairs seemed to go on forever; she’d counted to fifty when a shrill scream cut the silence. Roz tripped and dropped the candle. It rolled down a few steps and sputtered out, leaving her in complete darkness.

Then the night filled with screams, transporting Roz back to that long ago time. Once again, she was in that stinking cell, the stench of smoke and charred flesh heavy in the air. Grief, fear, and rage all mingling in her mind.

She whirled around and ran up the stone steps, hands held out in front of her. Almost falling through the door, she stood for a moment. The screams were louder here, and coming from the living quarters of the convent. What the hell was going on?

She was halfway down the aisle, headed for the double doors, when the sound was cut off. Skidding to a halt, she raised her head, listening. She was about to move when the door swung open from outside. Some instinct made her dive for cover behind one of the broad stone pillars.

The faint stench of rotten eggs wafted in through the open doors. Roz peered around the edge of the pillar as a mass of hunched shapes surged into the church. They lumbered down the aisle, some upright, some shuffling on all fours. Half-hound, half-human, with crimson eyes glowing in the dim light. There must have been ten or fifteen of the beasts, and at their center strode a tall man. The creatures flowed around him like water.

Roz drew back. Hugging the cool stone, she breathed in the hot sulfur smell. A smell she recognized so well.