chapter Thirty-Two
Bliss followed Lawson through the city. The buildings were cursory structures; the Rome she was familiar with was filled with enormous monuments, basilicas, and temples and palaces, but she reminded herself that they were back at the beginning, before most of those things had been built.
She looked around the plaza, down at the unpaved dirt packed under her feet. The open-air plaza was vast, the crowd overpowering in its size as they waited for the horn that would blow twice to signal the opening of the Consualia, the games that would celebrate Neptune's day. The red banners flapped and cracked in the wind, and the buildings around them were covered in brightly colored paint and graffiti. Splashes of animal blood dripped from the walls into open sewers and there were flies everywhere.
Rome smelled like a corpse. It was a far more vulgar place than she'd imagined. The air was filled with the scent of incense and smoke from burning effigies of Roman gods, mixed with the stink of people sweating in the woolen togas, as she was. She was starting to be able to tell that there were some class distinctions - the wealthier citizens wore togas that appeared to be made of cotton, and accordingly, they looked cooler and more comfortable than everyone else, her included.
Lawson explained that the temple Romulus had been standing in front of was the Regia, the home of kings. They walked toward it quickly, past donkey carts filled with fresh produce, and she plucked a date from an open basket and sunk her teeth into the rich fruit. A man jostled her, and cold wine sloshed from his wooden mug onto her dress.
Everywhere Bliss looked, she saw soldiers like the fierce warriors from her memory. The ancient wolves were magnificent and golden, while the hellhounds, disguised in the same armor they usually wore, were darker and smaller in size and bearing. She almost bumped into one as she made her way deeper into the crowd.
"Sorry," she whispered.
The hound leered at her. He was clearly of a lower order; his armor was made from hardened brown leather, sculpted into the shape of a muscled torso. "Stay a while," he said.
"She's with me," Lawson said.
The soldier spit at the ground but did not fight. Bliss moved nervously away, and Lawson held her hand as they made their way closer to the Regia.
The crowd was edgy and boisterous; it had the air of a mob, restless and eager for trouble. More soldiers were arriving, pouring into the arcades and gathering in groups on the roofs of the crude houses just outside the plaza. The crowd was growing more anxious by the minute. Bliss felt an elbow hit her in the back as two women pushed past her. Another dashed behind them, also elbowing Bliss. The soldiers scanned the crowd with impassive faces.
The games were due to start in moments, at which point the hounds disguised as soldiers would reveal themselves, beginning the slaughter that would end the line of the wolves.
Bliss felt a rough hand on her shoulder. It was the hound she had jostled.
"There you are, pretty." He smiled. "Leave this loser and come with me."
"Leave her alone," Lawson growled.
"Ah - screw you," the hound said. "Romulus said we can take what we can before the signal ..." He pulled on Bliss's toga and tore it from the clasp.
Bliss gasped, held her dress together, and turned to the hound.
"No, it's all right," she told Lawson, who was ready to throw a punch. If he fought the hound, they would start a fight, and the hounds were ready for bloodshed. Ahramin and the boys had to get the orders changed - nothing could happen before then. They couldn't risk the soldiers and the hounds jumping the gun.
She turned to the hound, her eyes boring into its crimson eyes and silver pupils. "You dare threaten me? Do you know who I am?"
The hound looked at her and quivered with fright. "No ... it cannot be ... how is it ..." It backed away, fear in its eyes.
"How do you keep doing that?" Lawson asked when the hound was gone. "Who are you? You have never answered that."
She hesitated as she fixed her strap. Could she lay all her cards on the table? Could she trust him to trust her? "Lawson, at the butcher shop - when I spoke your language ..."
"Yes?"
"You asked how I knew Hroll. It was because I saw something in my memory then. I think it was a wolf in his true form. It was an amazing sight. Beautiful." In her mind's eye she could see Lucifer standing at the top of a marble staircase, looking down at the magnificent form of the warrior in front of him. Her father had spoken its language. But now, as Bliss closed her eyes and relived the memory, she saw what happened next, and described it to Lawson.
"I saw Lucifer holding out his hand, and the beautiful warrior fell to his knees. There was a blast of smoke, and when it cleared, the warrior was a wolf, wearing a collar, and his golden eyes were silver."
Lawson stared at her. "What you're describing is the punishment of the wolves," he said. "How could you have seen this?"
Bliss shook her head slowly. She wasn't sure if it was the right time to tell Lawson the truth; she had no idea how he would react. And they had so much ahead of them, so much to do. But she didn't want to keep the secret any longer. "Because it's not only my mother's memories I share. I share my father's memories as well. I had access to his mind once, and he was part of mine."
"Your father?"
She flinched. "My father ... was Lucifer," she whispered. "I am the daughter of the Dark Prince of Hell. I was kept alive, hidden by his loyal followers, reincarnated through the centuries, to keep his spirit alive on earth. I did not know. He used me as a vessel for his evil. I have his memories and I am his flesh and blood."
For a long time, nothing happened. Lawson didn't speak. Bliss was worried he was trying to figure out a way to kill her in public, without anyone noticing. But when she finally dared to look at him, he didn't seem angry. Only contemplative.
"So you're not just an ex-vampire," he finally said.
"No." She could see the wheels in his mind turning. He was putting all the pieces together.
"The hounds know," he said. "They sense it, they sense that you carry the blood of the Dark Prince himself. It frightens them away."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. And I'm sorry for what my father did to your people. But I'm not him. I don't want any part of him."
"You are part of him, though," he said, and finally there was the anger that she had expected.
"That sword that you have ... I used to kill his spirit inside me. I wanted to die rather than live with what I had done. Please," she said. "Please believe me. Look." She pulled down her neckline to show part of the scar across her torso, right across her heart. "That's all that's left. I'm not lying. I thought I would die, but instead I became mortal."
"We owe you a debt, without your memories, we would never have been able to use the chronolog. But after this is over ... we will part ways. The wolves owe no debt to the vampires. We will fight no demons in your name. Now leave me, for I have no wish for your company. I have a hound to kill."