The vault opened and I stepped inside. It took me less than a minute to locate the Medal of the Saints. The round amulet was cast from silver, and a crucifix adorned its surface surrounded by a series of letters: C.S.S.M.L. They stood for Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux, a Latin phrase meaning “May the Holy Cross Be for Me a Light.”
As soon as I touched the pendant, the shrill voices around me faded out and I experienced a deep sense of calm. The power of the amulet was considerable, and I felt hopeful that it would keep Celeste safe for a while.
I was about to leave the vault when a sound to my left gave me pause. I was used to hearing insidious whispers within these silver-reinforced walls, but this sounded more like approaching footsteps. A chill tore up my spine. Someone else had entered the vault. I spun around and came face to face with our client. I hesitated… and this turned out to be a terrible mistake.
“Celeste?”
Her answer was to raise her arm and point a taser right at my chest.
She pulled the trigger without hesitation and fifty thousand volts of electricity zapped me.
I went down face first, hitting the ground in a mass of excruciating muscle contractions. Nerves on fire, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pain surging through my body.
Celeste knelt next to me and scooped up the pendant from the floor near my twitching form. She then turned to one of the many shelves inside the vault.
Celeste was after more than the Medal of Saints.
She removed another relic from one of the shelves. In her hand, she held an ancient dagger. The knife’s main blade was flanked by two smaller ones, similar to a Japanese sai. I struggled to remember the occult significance of the three-pronged knife.
Most of the items in the vault remained shrouded in mystery. Even though I’d known Skulick for more than two decades, we’d only hunted monsters together for the last six years. Skulick had refused to let me engage in field work until I left him no choice in the matter. For the most part, the collection represented Skulick’s life’s work, the sum total of his years battling the dark side. I wasn’t privy to the exact magical properties of most of these items, but I knew that Skulick had a pretty damn good reason for keeping them all sealed inside this chamber.
As Celeste leaned over me, the magical nature of the blade in her hand ceased to be my biggest worry. The razor-sharp dagger could cause plenty of damage on its own. I willed myself to move, but my muscles remained uncooperative.
To my surprise, Celeste used the dagger to draw a line on the palm of her hand. She leaned closer and allowed her warm blood to drip over my face. I tasted copper and my stomach clenched with revulsion.
“I’m sorry, Raven. There’s no other way.”
With these words she rose and turned away. Seconds later, she vanished through the open vault door. My body was on fire, but the pain paled in comparison with the cold sense of betrayal I felt.
Celeste had played us all.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LYING SPRAWLED ON the vault floor, the feeling of betrayal gave way to another emotion—concern for my partner. Despite being wheelchair-bound, Skulick wouldn’t have allowed Celeste to access the top floor without a fight. He could be a real pain at times, but he was the closest thing to family in my life. The thought of him being hurt—or worse—drove an icy wedge of terror into my heart.
I had to get back to my feet. Unfortunately, my body refused to cooperate. Damn, how could I’ve been so foolish? I had allowed a complete stranger into our base. Who knew what else Celeste might be up to? Was she working in collusion with the demon?
The thought sent another wave of cold fear through my paralyzed form. I fought back visions of Celeste disabling the wards and allowing our greatest enemies access to the loft. Maybe the theft of the dagger only served as a prelude to a far greater plan of attack. In the worst-case scenario, Skulick and I would end up dead and the treasure trove of mystical objects we protected would fall into the hands of the very creatures we had vowed to defeat.
Frustration building, I attempted to move again and this time my fingers wiggled as my stunned muscles finally remembered who was supposed to be in charge here. My limbs still felt like bags of cement as, after ten minutes of gradual improvement, I was able to stand again. One excruciating step at a time, I made my way out of the vault. The loft felt eerily quiet and my concern for my partner’s wellbeing grew with each step. I eyed the staircase before me and figured the elevator was the better option; considering my current state, I’d probably fall down the stairs and break my legs.
It would serve you right, I thought.
“Skulick? You okay?” I croaked.
Silence.