“I thought we were alone,” Lawson said. “I thought we were the only ones who made it out. But then we found Ahramin, and she said there were other free wolves. I didn’t know what to believe; I thought it might be a trick, I wasn’t sure what I would find when we got here.”
“Ahramin…” Marrok shrugged. “She is a traitor. We have been looking for her since Romulus unleashed her on us.”
“She says Romulus broke her collar, that she is no longer a servant of the beast,” Lawson said. “She led us to you. I would never have come here otherwise.”
“She might be playing a more complicated game with you. With us.”
Lawson reached for a piece of bread and tore it with his fingers, crushing part of it into a yeasty ball. “If you release her to Edon, I can promise that he’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Edon, who loves her so desperately he won’t leave her side? I think not.”
“She’s part of my pack,” Lawson said.
“Ulf, you are my friend, but I’m sorry,” Marrok said, “there’s nothing she can do that will make up for how she betrayed us.”
Lawson sighed. “You have the chronolog?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Marrok said as he broke off a piece of bread and nibbled on it.
“Fenrir raise his ugly head?” Lawson asked. “Is that how you got it?”
The light-haired boy shook his head and smiled. “I’m telling you, that’s a myth.”
“Who’s Fenrir?” asked Bliss.
Lawson explained that there was a legend among the wolves that one day the great wolf Fenrir would return and free them from slavery. It was something wolf cubs told each other, especially during those last desperate days before they would be turned into hounds…that one day they would return to their former glory…that one day, someone would come…someone would be sent…to help them…to free them. “Just another old wolves’ tale,” he said, smiling. “Obviously we didn’t need anyone to free us from the underworld. We freed ourselves. How many more wolves managed to escape?” he asked Marrok.
“Not as many as we’d like, much less than we’d hoped,” Marrok said. “A centuria at most.”
“Where are they?”
“Scattered. The hounds hunt us day and night; many of us have been captured and sent back.”
“How many are here?”
Marrok shrugged. “Fifty, sixty at most. You saw the entrance to the passages, I assume? The serpent mound?”
“Yes.” Lawson nodded.
“The dark roads have returned to us,” Marrok said. “The power of the wolves is growing.”
“So it would seem,” Lawson said.
Marrok took a long drink from his goblet. “There’s something more you should know. We have been tracking the hounds as well, to avoid their movements. One of our spies found this in the remnants of their camp. I think it belongs to you?” He handed it to Lawson.
Lawson stared at it in his palm. It was a small gold chain with a heart locket, engraved with a crescent moon. A trinket from the mall, a cheap little thing, but Tala had wanted it and he had given it to her. She always wore it; she never took it off. Someone must have pulled it off her neck, must have broken the chain.
“It’s Tala’s, isn’t it?” Bliss asked.
“Yes.” Romulus was taunting him, Lawson thought; Romulus knew the wolves were tracking the hounds, and he’d meant for someone to find it, to bring it back to Lawson. Romulus wanted Lawson to know he held her life in his hands. Wanted Lawson to come to him to rescue her. Wanted Lawson to show himself, wanted to bring him closer.
“Tala, who escaped with you?” Marrok asked.
Lawson nodded. “But she did not get away the second time. When the hounds returned.”
“We did not see a wolf in their midst, but we could be wrong. Their numbers are great. Our spies tell me that Romulus’s pack is making its way here. They will be upon us in a day or two.”
“They are close, then—that must have been why Malcolm felt ill,” Lawson said.
Marrok continued. “He is gathering his hounds for Rome, to the beginning of the empire’s founding, as Lucifer wanted. The loss of the chronolog hasn’t changed or slowed his plan, but I don’t understand how he presumes to navigate the dark roads without one. Without a chronolog to guide them, the passages are useless. He must know something we don’t.”
Lawson ruminated on the news, still holding the small gold chain tightly. “Let him find the passages. Let him come.”
Marrok frowned. “What are you saying? I’ve sent a call to the wolves to defend the passages from him.”
But Lawson was adamant. The light was back in his eyes, and his voice was confident. “When Romulus and his hounds arrive, we will let them inside the passages. Let them go to Rome. I will take my pack after and follow him inside.”
“What?” Bliss cried out.
“I’m with her,” Marrok said. “Why?”
“Outside of Hell, Romulus is vulnerable. Especially in Rome, he will have to retain human form. He will be weaker. Don’t you see? We can kill him, Marrok. I know we can. We must strike now. This might be our only chance.”
“Kill an ancient wolf? You forget he is immortal. Only we new pups die like ants crushed beneath a heel.”
“I did not forget,” Lawson said. He removed a small velvet pouch and showed them the needle inside it, which had unlocked their collars in the underworld. “I still have this.” Before their eyes, it grew to the size of a sword, shining golden in the moonlight.
“That is Michael’s sword,” Bliss breathed. “An archangel’s blade. But it was broken,” she said, remembering how the glass she had held had shattered into a million pieces.
“A heavenly blade is never broken, the masters found it after a great battle aboveground,” Lawson explained. “It was the deadliest weapon in Hell’s arsenal. It carries the White Fire of Heaven.” The Hand of God, it was known as among the creatures of the underworld.
“It can kill that which cannot be killed,” Bliss murmured, thinking of the blood the sword had shed. Of how it had been used for ill gain. Of the vampires who had fallen to its power. It was the sword that had killed Lawrence Van Alen. It was the sword that she had plunged into her own heart, breaking her father’s hold on her spirit.
“It can kill Romulus and it will,” Lawson said, gritting his teeth. “I swear it.”
At the end of the meal, Marrok bid them good night. “You will be safe here,” he promised. “Until daybreak, then.”
Lawson left Bliss as well to check on his brothers. She found a few worn blankets at the edge of the platform and settled down to rest, although sleep did not come easily. Lawson’s plan worried her. He was so certain he could bring down Romulus and maybe even rescue Tala. Was Tala in a position to be rescued? Bliss thought of the ugly black scar on Ahramin’s neck and shuddered. Lawson was filled with hope now, and it was driving his decisions, but that didn’t mean his plan had any chance of succeeding. And if it didn’t succeed, Lawson and his brothers were headed for either death or captivity. She wasn’t sure which was worse.
On top of everything else, Bliss had a larger purpose for finding the pack in the first place. She was supposed to tame the wolves, to bring them back to the fold. How was she going to do that if her friends—and even though she had just met them, she knew they were her friends—were captured or dead? Jane was still missing too, and they weren’t any closer to finding her.
Bliss sat up with a start. It had just occurred to her how Jane was connected to the hounds. What was it that Marrok had said about the passages?
I don’t understand how he presumes to navigate the dark roads without the chronolog.
Then it occurred to her. The answer wasn’t what Romulus would use; it was who. She had to find Lawson and tell him immediately. She scaled down the trees, finding her footing in the dark. She followed the murmur of familiar voices and found Lawson, Rafe, and Malcolm huddled in a lower enclosure.
“Hey, Bliss,” Mal
colm said, smiling. “Cool to be around all the wolves, right? Almost feels like home.”
“Edon still with Ahramin?” she asked.
“Yeah, he won’t leave her even though they’re not holding him in a cage. We just checked on them. They’re both fine,” Rafe said. “A bit irritable, but that’s to be expected.”
“I was about to go up,” Lawson said to her. “You climbed down all by yourself?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t wait. I figured out something important.”
“What’s up?”
“You told them what Marrok said? About Romulus’s plans not changing?” she asked. The boys nodded. “Okay. It’s about Aunt Jane. She was the Watcher. The Pistis Sophia,” she said. “The Immortal Intelligence of the Blue Blood Coven. She’s a seer. Marrok said he didn’t know how Romulus planned to make his way through the passages without the chronolog. Well, after Marrok stole the chronolog, Romulus stole something too, he stole Aunt Jane. He’s planning to use the Watcher to navigate through time. It’s why the hounds took her. It has to be.”
“You never mentioned that before,” Lawson said. “The Watcher, huh? What does that mean?”
“I’m sorry…it’s complicated.” Bliss explained, as quickly as she could, Jane’s various incarnations, among them the sister of Lucifer, and how she’d now returned in the form of Jane Murray, the woman Bliss called Aunt Jane. “I thought the hounds took her to keep me off their scent,” she said. “But now I think they took her because of who she was, not because of who I am.”
“Have you heard about this Pistis Sophia?” Lawson asked Malcolm.
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Malcolm said. “But I’m guessing it’s most likely because this Watcher is something the vampires keep a closely guarded secret. An oracle who can predict the return of the Dark Prince is not something they would reveal to the rest of the world.”
“So…this Immortal Intelligence can make the chronolog unnecessary?” Lawson asked.
“I’m not sure, but I’m guessing yes, it could.”
“I can see where stealing her would be easier than getting the chronolog back from Marrok,” he mused. “Can they make her do it, though? Would his powers work on someone like that?”
“I don’t know,” Bliss admitted. She wasn’t sure what Jane was capable of, didn’t know how long she could resist them.
Lawson must have seen the distress on her face. He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find her,” he said softly. “If she’s been through that much in her many lifetimes, she’ll make it through this. We’ll find her, and we’ll bring her back to you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled at her, looking handsome and regal even as he was sitting in the dirt, leaning against the tree. He began to empty his pockets, just like a boy, Bliss thought; they always removed their wallets and phones when they sat down. He tossed a stack of pictures held together by a rubber band on the ground.
“Could I see that?” she asked.
She picked up the stack and looked through the pictures. In the middle was the postcard she had seen before. It was the image of a painting showing a riotous struggle between an army of Roman centurions and a defenseless crowd of women. One figure, however, stood motionless and calm at the top of the scene. He wore red robes, carried a staff, and held a single hand aloft.
“Romulus,” Lawson said, tapping the picture. “I’ve always been drawn to this painting; one of the stories passed down among the wolves is about our history with the Sabines, but I don’t know much about it. None of us do, we just know we’re connected to them somehow. I found this in a gift shop and I had to have it.”
“I know a little bit,” Bliss said. She had studied history with Jane Murray, and she remembered what her aunt had told her about the event.
“Tell me.”
“During the founding of Rome, the Romans took the Sabines as wives. They were a soldiers’ society and women were scarce. They needed to balance the population and so they had to abduct their wives from the surrounding communities. They planned celebratory games for their new city and called the festival the Consualia, a festival for Neptune. It was intended to attract people from the surrounding region, act as a showcase for the newly built city of Rome. They issued invitations to all the tribes, including the Sabines. But it was just a cover. As the games were about to begin, Romulus gave the signal that you see here, and the Roman soldiers rushed into the crowd and snatched the unarmed Sabine women.” She looked closely at the picture. “Something’s different. Something’s changed,” she said. “Look!”
“I don’t see any difference,” Lawson said, squinting at it.
“There is—they’re killing the women in this version—stabbing them, gutting them.” Bliss turned the postcard over. In small print, the text read The Massacre of the Sabine Women.
But when she turned the postcard back, the image was the original painting, in which the women were merely being captured. The title went back to the original as well.
“It’s changed back—what’s going on?” Bliss asked.
“You can see that?” Lawson asked. He looked at her keenly. “I’m not sure, but I think what we’re seeing is a timeline in flux. History hasn’t been set. Something’s happened or is about to happen. This must be where Romulus is headed when he enters the passages. He’s going to this moment in time to turn the abduction into a massacre. But why? Why does Lucifer want the Sabines destroyed? Why are they so important?”
In the morning, Lawson told his brothers the plan to follow Romulus into the timeline. “I don’t expect you to follow me, I can handle him myself,” he said.
“What do you take us for, cowards?” Rafe asked. “Of course we are going with you. Right, Mac?”
Malcolm nodded. “We followed you out of the underworld, we will follow you back to Rome.”
Lawson nodded his thanks and it was clear he had not expected anything less. “Come on, let’s go see the chief,” he said.
Marrok listened patiently as Bliss told her story. “So, Romulus has found himself a guide to the passages,” he said. “Let us hope she is not as good as this one.” He pulled something from his pocket. It was a small round silver pocket watch in a cloth handkerchief. “We were immune to the silver once, but not anymore. I will give this to you to hold, since I don’t think it will burn your skin.” He dropped the watch into her palm. It was unusually heavy and cold.
Bliss looked down at the chronolog. The dial had Roman numerals numbered from one to twenty-four. The numerals started at the bottom of the dial and moved counterclockwise around the circle. There was a second dial, layered over the first, in silver, and the edge of the watch face was carved with runes. “How do you use it?”
“We’re not sure,” Marrok said, embarrassed. “I’m hoping it will be self-explanatory once all of you enter the passages.”
Bliss touched the chronolog and suddenly experienced a flash of memory. In her mind, she saw a hand reach out and press a button on the side of the chronolog. But it wasn’t her hand, and she wasn’t accessing her own memories; they belonged to someone else. Not Lucifer—she didn’t have the icy feeling that crept up her spine when she knew she was recalling something he’d seen. No, these were pleasant memories, memories of a happier time and place, memories belonging to someone she loved. This memory was Allegra’s. She blinked and looked around. How strange that she had her mother’s memories in her as well. It comforted her to know she still had a connection to Allegra.
“Can I see it?” Malcolm asked shyly.
“Careful,” she said, placing it on his palm with a handkerchief.
Lawson was arguing with Marrok. “I told you last night, I’m not leaving without Ahramin. She’s part of my pack. Release her to me.”
Marrok did not look happy to hear that. “You don’t know what she did down there. She was the worst one they had, Lawson. She was vicious…cruel. She’s not the she-wolf she was. They turned her into a houn
d.”
“Even so, they turned her into something else when Romulus broke her collar. She’s not a hound anymore. Her eyes are blue. She cannot shift. Marrok, be reasonable.”
“She tortured us, Ulf. Not reluctantly—with glee. When they released her aboveground, she tracked us one by one. Wasn’t she the hound who found your pack?”
Lawson did not answer. Of course he remembered. The dark girl at the door, her eyes blazing with crimson hatred. “She wore a collar back then. She doesn’t now. She’s part of my pack. I speak for her.”
Marrok sighed. “There’s no other way?”
“She belongs with us. My brother will not leave her side. Without her, I lose Edon. I will need all my strength when I go to Rome.”
“I understand,” Marrok said. “I will release her to your care. But she is your responsibility now. If she betrays us, my pack will not hesitate to kill her.”
“If she betrays us,” Lawson promised, “I’ll kill her myself.”
Ahramin did not seem grateful that Lawson had pled her release. The wolves had been holding her in a wooden cage, and the bars exhaled as they clattered to the ground. She stepped over the wooden sticks. “Marrok had every right to hold me, you don’t know what I did for Romulus,” Ahramin said dully. “Why did you secure my freedom?” she asked Lawson.
“I trust you, Ahramin. You brought us to Marrok, to the free wolves, as you had promised. You say you are no longer a hound and I believe you,” he said, offering his hand to shake. “Peace?”
Her eyes flashed but she held her tongue and managed to shake his hand. Bliss hoped Lawson knew what he was doing. Ahramin made her way to Edon, who had never left her side, who had slept next to her cage all night.
“I know he only asked for my freedom because of you,” she said to him, sounding tender toward him for the first time since she had returned to the pack. She held a hand to his cheek, and Edon put a hand on top of hers. They stood there for a long time. Whatever had broken between them appeared to be mending.