And how could this Dupuis man offer to free Léon of his curse?
“They do more than that,” Nolan answered. “They’re occult. The Alliance’s goal is to push back the demon realm, but the Daicrypta would rather keep the demons right here, in our realm, so they can learn from them. Manipulate them. And they couldn’t care less if people get injured in the process.”
Ahead, an electric jet reflected light off the rungs leading up to the manhole cover.
“What I’d like to know is how Constantine came to be acquainted with one of their disciples,” Vander added.
Constantine had finally reached the foot of the ladder leading out. “I know many of them, monsieur. I was once a disciple myself.”
Vander and Nolan advanced on the old man so quickly that Ingrid jumped back, and Constantine held up his cane to ward them off.
“I said once,” he repeated. “I could no longer condone a number of their practices and decided to take my leave.”
“Which practices were those?” Nolan asked, his broadsword still level with Constantine’s throat. “Observing humans possessed by demons and allowing their torture instead of performing a simple exorcism? Or perhaps it was the practice of buying asylum patients and using them as flesh rewards for the demons they were attempting to tame and train?”
Ingrid stared hard at her teacher, her stomach in a knot.
“Yes, those practices,” Constantine admitted, his nostrils flaring. “Those and many more. You may judge me as you see fit for becoming a disciple in the first place, but there is no one—no one—who regrets it more than I.”
He took a rattling breath to calm his own fervor before continuing. “It has been over a decade since I parted ways with the Daicrypta; however, no inoperative disciple can ever go very far. They will always be watching me. Robert Dupuis was a colleague, and you might have guessed that he has an interest in Dusters—particularly in Lady Ingrid.”
She took another step back. “What does he want with me?”
Ingrid wondered whether the Dispossessed knew about the Daicrypta, and whether Luc would be as upset as Vander and Nolan seemed to be.
“Shall we discuss this aboveground?” Constantine asked.
Ingrid made for the rungs right behind Nolan, eager for the cold, fresh air. Down here, the air was too thick and rank to take a full breath without gagging.
At the top Nolan put muscle into shoving the manhole cover up and aside. The bleak afternoon light kissed the crown of Ingrid’s head, and when she climbed out, the gritty walkway and splattered pigeon droppings were a welcome sight. Even the curious glances from the occupants of a passing river barge didn’t affect her.
Once Vander and Constantine were out and the cover had been slid back into place, the conversation picked right back up and blew Ingrid’s good spirits to smithereens.
“Dupuis wants the same thing as Axia,” Constantine said. “Lady Ingrid’s blood. The angelic quotient of it, at least.”
Vander took a protective stance in front of her, as if Constantine were going to do the attacking right then and there.
“I am sure they would not intend for her to die,” her teacher went on. “But their blood-draining and -separating experiments have failed more often than they have succeeded.”
Ingrid’s knees went a bit weak. Brilliant. So now she had to worry about not only a crazed fallen angel coveting her blood but a secret occult society as well?
“Dead girl or no dead girl, they’d have angel blood. I don’t even want to think about what they could cook up with that,” Nolan said. “Why has Dupuis come to you? Has he made some kind of offer?”
“None that I am tempted to accept,” Constantine replied, cutting his eyes toward Ingrid. “They cannot simply take you and perform their experiments. When you accepted me as your teacher, I laid claim to you. Even though I am an ex-disciple, they must honor my claim.”
His claim? Ingrid’s ears began to burn in spite of the buffeting wind.
“I am not a plot of land or some lost puppy you found in an alley. You have no claim over me, monsieur. No one does.”
Constantine put up his hands in surrender. “Forgive the phrasing. Let me say it this way: it is much like Luc’s claim over you and the humans within his territory. You are under my protection, that is all, and I give you my word that I will not betray your trust—or the trust of any of my students. You are, however, free to give yourself to the Daicrypta.”
“If Léon’s curse stems from his demon blood and they’ve promised to rid him of it …” Ingrid took Vander’s hand as she worked it out. “That’s what they’re going to do, isn’t it—drain his blood?”
The deepening frown on her teacher’s lips was answer enough.
“Speaking of blood,” Nolan said, pulling out a pocket watch and checking the hour, “I have an appointment to keep.”