“Wake up, sleepyhead,” I said.
“Is it time for our hunting date, already?” she asked. “By Hecate, I’m tired.”
“You here at the guildhall?” I asked, tipping my head back and hoping she was upstairs in her room. I had no idea where her coven held its circle, and I didn’t feel much like waiting.
“Yes,” she said with a yawn. “You here already? I can be down as soon as I get dressed. Unless you want to join me in my room…”
Celeste’s voice went low and sultry, and I cringed. I started pacing the sidewalk, making sure not to bump into the painting I’d borrowed from the archives. The last thing I needed was getting Darryl on my bad side.
“I’m outside with Ash,” I said. “There’s been a change of plan. I might have a lead on the House Capet vamps.”
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
From the rustle of fabric, it sounded like Celeste was finally getting out of bed. Good. The sooner we located Jacques, the sooner we killed ourselves some vampires. The city would be safe again, and I’d probably have enough fangs to string myself another necklace. All in all, it would be a win-win.
“I need you to do a tracking spell on a vamp,” I said.
“That’s going to be difficult,” she said.
“Why?” I asked, shaking my head. “I have his name and a picture of him from an old painting. Isn’t that all you need?”
I’d seen tracking spells done on vamps before, and though the results could be unreliable, I knew we had enough to give it a try. We couldn’t just sit around and wait for Jacques de Chatillon to fall into our laps. I’d been lucky to spot him in the crowd before, and I knew better than most that good luck always runs out eventually.
“It’s not that,” she said with a sigh. “My magic is tied to celestial movements. And as my sisters reminded me during my visit this morning, there’s an eclipse tomorrow.”
My ears pricked at the mention of an eclipse, and something niggled in my brain. Wasn’t there something else happening tomorrow?
“Ash, that procession that’s causing all the crowds,” I said. “Isn’t that tomorrow?”
I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation he’d overheard, but his brows drew together as he nodded.
“Aye, love,” he said. “The procession is tomorrow.”
I’d been pacing the sidewalk, but I stopped dead in my tracks.
“When does this parade happen?” I asked. “Is it before sunrise, or after sunset?”
Ash shook his head.
“No, love, the Procession of the Holy Blood is held every year at two-thirty in the afternoon,” he said. “They’ve been holding the festivities at the same time for centuries. Why, what are you thinking?”
“Celeste, what time is this eclipse?” I asked.
“Two-forty,” she said.
Shit. My gut was telling me that it was no coincidence that a group of vampires had tried to invade House Dampierre’s turf so close to an eclipse. An eclipse that took place at the same time as a party that had something to do with the Holy Blood.
“Ash, what’s the significance of the procession?” I asked. “What happens exactly?”
“It’s the one time each year that the Holy Blood is removed from the lockbox in the basilica and paraded through the city streets,” he said. “Like I said before, it’s a big deal. Pilgrims and tourists come from all over the world to be a part of the celebration.”
“They remove the real Holy Blood from the safety of consecrated ground, and parade it around the city?” I asked. “Are they nuts?”
“It will be under armed guard,” Celeste said, making me jump. I’d nearly forgotten she was still on the line.
“Well, I hope it’s locked inside a Pope Mobile filled with Holy Water, or we have a problem,” I said.
“Bloody hell,” Ash muttered.
Bloody Hell was right. Pieces of the puzzle came together, and I didn’t like the growing picture, not one bit.
The Holy Blood was the relic that started the feud between House Dampierre and House Capet, the same item that the Knights Templar brought from the Holy Land and put into the safekeeping of the Basilica of the Holy Blood. Philip obviously had his greedy eye on it seven-hundred years ago, and he’d waited until the one moment when the Holy Blood would be outside of consecrated ground under the cover of darkness—when vampires can walk the streets.
It would have taken a lot of planning and even more patience, but I didn’t doubt that this was all part of the master vampire’s plan. What are a few centuries when you’re immortal?
Not that Philip hadn’t made other attempts to gain access to the Holy Blood in the past few centuries. A chill ran up my spine as I remembered the stories of Van Haecke, who had been a chaplain in the Basilica of the Holy Blood back in the nineteenth century. The man was rumored to have become a Satanist after his encounters with a woman who’d arrived in Bruges from Paris. I seriously would not be surprised if Philip sent Berthe Courriere in an effort to corrupt Van Haecke and goad him into desecrating the church that housed the Holy Blood.
Philip hadn’t succeeded, at least not fully. Van Haecke had fallen to the dark side, but the Basilica of the Holy Blood remained a place where vampires could not tread. But that hadn’t stopped the vampire master—and now his men were here to finish the job they’d started centuries ago.
The vampires were clever, but they hadn’t counted on us uncovering their evil plot. That, at least, gave us the element of surprise. If we were going to take advantage of that, we needed all hands on deck for this. It was time to call in the troops.
“Celeste, can you take down the ward keeping spirits from entering the guildhall?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said.
“Good, do it,” I said. Taking down the wards would allow Ash to join us. He might be a ghost, but he was also a Hunter. I wanted him with us. “When you’re done, call Zarkhov and ask him to meet us in the archives. Ash and I will meet you there.”
“What about Martens and Chadwick?” she asked.
“Martens is busy with the patients we brought him last night,” I said. “I’ll fill him in later.”
“And Chadwick?” she asked.
“Screw Chad, we do this without him,” I said. “I want people I can trust at my back.”
“Okay, give me a few minutes to get the ward down,” she said. “Alistair should be able to tell when I’m done.”
We hung up and I stared at the ghosts that floated up and down the street. I wouldn’t need Ash to tell me when the wards were down. I had my very own detector right here. My ghost posse had followed me out of Dampierre’s dungeon, and I’d been ignoring them ever since. But they sure would indicate when the wards were down.
I just hoped they didn’t rattle too many chains while we were inside.
Chapter 44
“Hunters protect the innocent from monsters.”
-Jenna Lehane, Hunter
“You’re telling me the vampires are going to try to steal the Holy Blood, the Sangreal, the Holy Grail?” Darryl asked.
We’d gathered in the archives, me, Ash, Darryl, Aleksey, and Celeste. As I suspected, the horde of ghosts had followed me inside, but so far they seemed to be behaving themselves. Ghosts with restraint, who knew? Celeste rubbed her arms, but otherwise no one seemed to give the ghosts much notice.
They were all too busy listening to Darryl’s tirade.
“Yes,” I said. “But you’re just kidding about it being the Holy Grail, right? Isn’t that supposed to be a cup or something?”
“No one knows for sure, but there’s plenty of scholarly debate,” he said. “Sang real means Holy Blood and san greal means Holy Grail, so you can see where things get complicated.”
The archives suddenly felt way too small for five Hunters and a couple hundred ghosts. My chest was tight, and someone had replaced my knees with Jell-O.
“You’re saying that Philip is after the Holy Grail,” I said. “That’s his end
game.”
“What I’m saying, girl, is that it’s a possibility,” he said.
Athena save us all.
“Looks like we’re on a Grail quest, love,” Ash said.
Zarkhov blew out a whistle and smiled.
“That mean I get to blow shit up?” Aleksey asked.
I hated to encourage that eager gleam in Zarkhov’s eyes, but the truth was that I needed his help. Vampires are highly flammable, and Celeste’s magic would be limited due to the eclipse. We’d need our pyromaniacal demolition expert’s skills before the day was through.
But I didn’t have to like it.
We had a city filled with innocent humans. Collateral damage was a major concern, even without explosives. Add Aleksey into the mix and things could get messy. But if it was the only way to keep the Holy Blood safe, and prevent the deaths of millions, I’d do what needed to be done. I’d known that when I’d called this meeting. I just hadn’t considered all the ramifications until now.
I leaned my head back and groaned.
“Aleksey, darling, I believe that’s a yes,” Celeste said.
I lowered my head to take in our ragtag group of Hunters and nodded. Celeste was pressed up against Aleksey, trailing her nails along his chiseled jaw and eyeing him like he was the last goddamned ice cream cone in the desert. The Guild didn’t discourage fraternizing amongst Hunters, but I suddenly wished they did, so I could throw the book at them.
We were in the archives, and there were a hell of a lot of books lying about. My fingers twitched, but I looked away from Celeste. If groping Zarkhov kept her head in the game and a Mandragora pipe out of her hands, then so be it.
“We all need to take part in this hunt,” I said. “Darryl, you’re up first. I need to know everything you have on Jacques, Philip, and the Holy Blood. And make it fast.”
Unfortunately, there were no Cliff’s Notes for centuries of historical facts, hearsay, and scholarly conjecture. Darryl did his best to summarize what Guild archivists knew, but much of the information, especially what we pulled from Grail legends, was contradictory.
It was a long night.
We stayed up pouring over the archives, raiding the armory, and sketching out plans for the following day. When tempers began to flare, I suggested we take a break and reconvene at dawn. It would give everyone a few hours to rest up, since we had an even longer day ahead of us tomorrow.
Though with Celeste’s tongue in Zarkhov’s ear, I highly doubted those two would be getting much sleep. I shook my head and went back over my notes. I wasn’t planning on getting any rest either. There was still too damn much to do.
We needed a solid plan.
There was no way to stop the procession. It wasn’t the kind of event that scheduled a rain date, not that we could change the weather. Celeste claimed that making it rain was impossible today, even if her entire coven lent their magic to the spell. Zarkhov’s suggestion to call in a bomb threat was met with more enthusiasm, at least until Darryl recalled a similar threat making the papers a decade ago. The people of Bruges hadn’t cancelled the procession then, so there was no reason to believe they’d do so now.
Zarkhov’s offer to follow the threat up with a real bombing was unanimously vetoed. Hunters protect the innocent from monsters. We don’t bomb parade routes filled with tourists, not when there are other alternatives. If we did, we’d be no better than the rogue paranormals we hunted.
So we were left with the duty of guarding the Holy Blood along the parade route. I wanted to rail against the longstanding tradition that might place the Holy Blood, possibly the Holy Grail if Darryl was to be believed, into the hands of vampires. But there was no point in raging about it. Plus, doing so would make me a hypocrite.
The Hunters’ Guild was steeped in old lore and we held to our own centuries old traditions. We had plenty of ancient ceremonies and rituals that would make most modern outsiders roll their eyes, but we continued to do things in the old ways. Adhering to those traditions was part of what bound us together, made us strong.
“You alright, love?” Ash asked.
He’d stuck around when the others had gone to their beds and, since I doubted that ghosts needed sleep, I’d let him. Sometimes we need more than tradition to stay strong as we stand in the path of the coming storm.
“I’ll be alright when this is over,” I said. “How about you? It must have been weird being back here again, around your former Guild brothers.”
With Celeste’s help, I’d convinced the others that the ghost of Alistair Ashford, their fallen comrade in arms, was indeed here with us. For a group of Hunters who go around policing supernaturals, they were surprisingly reluctant to believe me. Faerie ointment doesn’t make the dead, or the undead, visible to mortal eyes, and the ability to see ghosts was rare. If it hadn’t been for Celeste backing me up, and more than a few floating objects that they couldn’t explain, I’d probably still be trying to make my case.
“I’m sure they would have been a mite happier if they could have seen me in the flesh,” he said. “But then again, who wouldn’t?”
Ash winked and I snorted. He always did see the positive side of things. I smiled and turned back to my notes, determined to try his approach. Maybe if I focused on the positive aspects of our mission, I’d be able to figure out how to make this right.
There was still so much we didn’t know, but at least we had a good idea of when the vampires would strike. The eclipse only gave the bloodsuckers a seven minute window of darkness to make their move. If they stuck around after that, they’d end up how I ate my steak—burned to a crisp.
From the vampires’ limited timetable, I could estimate the point at which the attack would take place on the parade route. There were variables—length of speeches, speed at which the procession moved—but I was confident that the Holy Blood would not leave Burg square before the eclipse began. That was our point of contact.
I pulled out a map of the city center and overlaid a public works blueprint showing all sewer drains, manhole covers, and fire hydrants. With the nearby canals, multitude of sewer access points, and numerous buildings, there were just too many places where the vampires could enter the square. We couldn’t guard them all.
That was when the fire hydrants caught my eye, giving me an idea. I grinned as my fingers traced trajectories.
“We’ll be waiting for you, bloodsuckers,” I whispered, staring at the map. “Prepare to get hosed.”
Chapter 45
“A Hunter’s work is never done.”
-Jenna Lehane, Hunter
Martens called around ten in the morning to let me know that the last patient had been released from the infirmary. He obviously intended to close up shop and sleep for the next week. Too bad that wasn’t a possibility. Martens may be a doctor, but he was also a Hunter, and as we all knew, a Hunter’s work is never done. He might as well get used to it.
“I’m glad you called,” I said. “We’ve got a situation.”
“Give me a break, Lehane,” he said. “I’ve been pulling double shifts ever since you stepped foot in Bruges. What is it now?”
“The vampires are going to make a move on the Holy Blood during the procession today,” I said. “We’ll need your help to keep the relic safe.”
The line went so silent, I wondered if Martens had fallen asleep.
“Doc, you still there?” I asked.
“Y-y-yes, shit, yeah, I’m here,” he said. “What’s the plan?”
I told him some of the basics. I didn’t want to overwhelm him with all the details, but he needed to know our intent to stop the theft of the Holy Blood, while protecting as many humans as possible.
“They’re going to make a grab for the relic today between fourteen and fifteen hundred hours,” I said. “I’m guessing that will place the procession inside Burg square when the vampires make their move. It’s going to be wall to wall people, so collateral damage is a concern.”
“You want me there for triage?” he aske
d.
“Yes,” I said.
He sounded relieved and I had to wonder the last time this guy had seen actual fieldwork. Martens was a Hunter, but as the Guild’s doctor he may have managed to avoid facing conflict in recent years. After the loss of his wife, I guess I couldn’t blame him.
His reaction made me confident that I was giving him the right role in all of this.
“Minimizing casualties will be your priority, but you can also be our eyes and ears inside the crowd,” I said. “If you see a vamp, radio it in. We’ll be wearing ear pieces for this run.”
“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll be leaving soon then. I need time to gather the necessary medical supplies and get them in place.”
“I can send Aleksey over with your ear piece and radio transmitter,” I said. “But Doc, before you go, I need one more favor.”
“Why am I not fucking surprised?” he asked. “What is it this time?”
“I might need your help restraining Simon Chadwick,” I said.
The line went silent again, but this time I waited for Martens to process my request. Even I had to admit it was a lot to take in.
“That’s insubordination,” he said.
Master Peeters, for some unfathomable reason, had put Chadwick in charge during his absence. Knowing Chad, he’d volunteered for the job. It was the kind of move he’d make. Simon Chadwick might be a judgmental, chauvinistic ass, but he was also driven.
Problem was, with Chadwick as our interim boss, going against him was a serious offense. I believed in doing what would save the most innocent lives—it seemed the truest way to uphold my vows—but not everyone would feel that way. Chadwick wasn’t the only Hunter with a strict adherence to rules and red tape. I just hoped that Martens could be swayed to see things my way.
“I know,” I said. “But he’s a liability.”
Chad wasn’t a team player. He was a control freak who got off on dominating those he believed were inferior. If he discovered what we were up to, he’d shut down our operation and ask questions later. That was a risk we couldn’t take.