Blood Infernal: The Order of the Sanguines Series (40 page)

Rhun nodded ahead. “This is the place Bernard marked on the map, where he believed Hugh de Payens built his hermitage.”

“Nothing’s here,” Jordan said. “Place is empty.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “That’s not true. Bernard was not mistaken about this location . . . a rarity for him.”

Rhun heard the spike of bitterness in her voice when she mentioned the cardinal.

She pointed to the towering cascade. “Beyond the veil of the waterfall, I can make out the outline of a structure.”

Erin squinted. “Are you sure?”

Even Rhun could not discern anything and cast a doubtful glance at Elizabeth.

“Over there!” she said with an exasperated sigh.

She leaned closer to Rhun, aiming her arm, allowing him to follow her graceful finger. She outlined the watery shadow of an arched doorway in the rock behind the falls, halfway up the cliff face.

Once pointed out, he saw it as well.

Two windows flanked that door, with a larger round window centered above them.

It looked like the façade of a church, sculpted out of the rock behind the waterfall. Its bottom edge hovered two stories above the blue pool. It would be a precarious climb to get up there, especially through the pounding of that water.

Rhun became all too aware of the ache in his stump, reminded of how impossible such an ascent would be for him with only one arm.

Erin took a step farther out into the meadow. “I see it now, too!”

“We should proceed as a group,” Jordan warned, drawing Erin back, wisely reining in the woman’s eagerness. “While this Hugh guy has let us get this far, let’s not take any unnecessary risks.”

Rhun bowed to the wisdom of the man’s words and waved them all onward toward the waterfall. No one spoke as they marched across the field, marking the team’s tension. Rhun was sure eyes were watching their approach across the meadow. As they neared the waterfall, its roar grew deafening, which only heightened Rhun’s apprehension.

Reaching the small lake, they assembled along its edge. The water was a pristine blue, clear enough that Rhun spotted dappled trout deep below the rippling surface, flitting for cover as his shadow fell over the pool.

He searched the base of the rock behind the falls for any carved steps, for some way to reach the façade of the church far above their heads. He spotted no way to gain access without a slippery climb through a heavy cascade of water.

Jordan voiced all their concerns, shouting to be heard above the roar. “How do we get up to that friggin’ place?”

It was Elizabeth’s keen eyes again that discovered the answer, pointing down instead of up, into the pool’s depths. “The mouth of a tunnel is hiding in the rocks below the falls. Perhaps there is an underwater passageway there that leads up to the church above.”

Erin eyed the water with clear trepidation, crossing her arms. Rhun knew from past experience that the archaeologist was not a strong swimmer and had a fear of water.

Erin swallowed. “There’s got to be some other way into this place. I doubt those dogs swim in and out through that tunnel. Especially here, exposed to the sunlight.”

Rhun agreed with her. Hugh de Payens had been here for centuries. The mountain was probably riddled with tunnels and hidden entrances and exits. But his team did not have time to hunt them down.

Jordan sighed. “Hugh guided us to this meadow with his dogs. Something tells me this is another test. We find our way inside through that underwater tunnel, or we don’t go in at all.”

“Then we swim for it,” Erin said, uncrossing her arm and steeling her face.

“As a group,” Jordan said. “All or nothing.”

The big man stripped off down to his pants, even kicking off his boots. Rhun was taken aback at the transformation of his blue tattoo, following the new crimson lines that extended from it, wrapping his neck, entwining down his arm. It was a darkly beautiful design, as if the angels themselves had inscribed his flesh.

And maybe they had
.

Rhun and the others followed his example, shucking off jackets, and shedding heavier clothes.

Once done, Elizabeth stood next to him, wearing only her pants and bra, showing no shyness, her back straight. She ran one hand through her dark curls, pushing them back from her face and tying them with a bit of string. Her breasts were firm and white under the thin silk, and her pale skin shone even in the shadow cast by the overhanging rock.

Rhun remembered how it had felt to have that smooth skin pressed against his, his lips against hers. He had wanted to devour her then, possess her wholly.

He still did.

Still, he averted his eyes, turning his attention to their pile of discarded clothes and abandoned weapons. They would go unarmed to this meeting. Perhaps this was why Hugh had led them to this entrance—to force them to strip down.

Rhun recovered only one weapon.

He took his silver pectoral cross from the pile and hung it back around his neck. It burned hot against his bare skin. Elizabeth stared at him. He felt suddenly self-conscious with his bandaged stump exposed. But she looked at the cross, instead, then went and recovered her own, donning it as he had done. The silver left a pink line against the pearly whiteness between her breasts. It burned her skin as much as it did his, but she did not remove it.

“Let’s go,” Jordan said and plunged straight in, coming up like an otter.

“Wait,” Erin said and grabbed her backpack from their discarded clothes. She turned to Rhun. “Can you take this? I don’t want to leave it abandoned here, but I’m not really a strong enough swimmer to take it myself.”

Rhun knew her bag held the Blood Gospel, sealed in an airtight and waterproof case. She was right not to leave it unattended, especially here. He pulled the pack over his good shoulder. “I’ll keep it safe.”

“Thank you.”

Erin swallowed, faced the pool, then waded in, gasping at the cold.

Rhun and his fellow Sanguinists joined her. The water was snowmelt, barely above freezing—but at least the icy chill numbed the ache from his stump.

The party set off across the pool toward the thunder of the falls. Even the lion cub jumped in and swam steadily beside him. Its giant feet pushed through the water like paddles. Its heartbeat was quick and steady. The animal showed no fear of the water.

Erin, on the other hand, fought to keep up, splashing more than moving, her heart racing. Rhun dropped back next to her, as did Sophia.

“I didn’t learn to swim until I was one hundred and five!” Sophia shouted to Erin. “So I’m still not very good at it myself.”

Erin gave the nun a quick smile and kept swimming.

Rhun appreciated the gesture, but unlike Erin, Sophia did not need to breathe. Whereas Rhun had seen Erin nearly drown once before. He knew she would not stop going, even past the point of no return.

Ahead, Jordan and Elizabeth had reached the falls. Elizabeth glanced up at the cascade, as if taking her bearings, then dove. Jordan followed immediately.

Rhun did a one-armed sidestroke next to Erin until they reached the falls, too. He treaded water with Sophia to let Erin catch her breath. Her lips were set in a hard line, going blue from the cold.

Rhun glanced to Sophia. The thunder of the cascade made talk impossible, but he got a small nod back from the woman, acknowledging his request.

Keep Erin safe.

Erin gave them a weak smile of bravado and upended herself, her pale feet shining in the sun for a moment before she vanished underwater.

Rhun and Sophia followed her down, lashed by the turbulent water.

Rhun quickly found it vexing to swim with only one arm, eventually settling for only kicking his legs. Still, he easily kept up with Erin.

He felt something bump his leg, felt a snag of claws in his pants. A glance revealed the cub digging down after them. It seemed the cat was not going to let them go alone.

They reached the mouth of the tunnel that Elizabeth had spotted. He saw no sign of the other two. Erin hesitated, but the cub shot past her and entered first, his paws snagging the rocky walls and propelling him deeper.

Perhaps taking courage from the cub, Erin followed.

But how much farther could she truly go?

4:24
P
.
M
.

Erin’s lungs burned as she swam after the cat.

Though, in truth, it felt more like
crawling
, as her hands clawed the walls and her toes pushed off along the bottom of the tunnel.

How far did this passage run?

It was a question that terrified her.

Her chest already ached for breath. She doubted she had enough air left to return to the pool, to sunshine and fresh breezes. It left her with only one way to go from here.

Forward
.

She kicked, following the paddling rear end of the cub. The filtering sunlight behind her quickly faded to a gloomy murk, but the cat’s snowy fur glowed ahead of her, like a will-o’-the-wisp in the dark. She placed all her trust in the cub. It needed to breathe, like she did. If it turned around, she would, too.

So she continued, commanding her cold arms to pull and her numb legs to kick.

Then suddenly the lion’s hind legs disappeared upward into darkness.

She felt the tunnel dissolve around her into a larger space, as dark as pitch.

Blindly, she headed up.

Seconds later, her head broke the surface. She gasped in a new breath, then another, taking in the small cavern around her, illuminated by slivers of daylight seeping through cracks in the roof.

Jordan and Elizabeth climbed out on a ledge on the far side, next to a plain wooden door set into the granite wall. The cub paddled over and scrabbled at the edge, until Jordan helped pull his sodden form out of the water.

Jordan spotted Erin and waved one arm, while holding out the other. “I got you.”

Yeah, well, you could’ve got me sooner . . . or at least, hung around
.

Like some others.

Rhun and Sophia surfaced behind her.

Still, as much as it stung that he had abandoned her, she knew it wasn’t his fault. Whatever was happening would eventually pass, and he would be his old self again.

Now if only I could truly believe that
.

She hurried to the ledge, and Jordan pulled her up as if she weighed nothing. He quickly hugged her, the feverish heat of him welcome for the first time. She shivered and shook in his embrace, remaining there until the cold tremors in her limbs warmed away.

To the side, Sophia helped Rhun onto the ledge, compromised as he was with only one arm.

“We must find a way to open this door,” Elizabeth said, running her palms over it.

With her teeth still chattering, Erin moved over. If there were warm towels and a roaring fire behind it, she would kick it down herself.

She examined the door alongside Elizabeth. It was made of a single thick wooden plank, sanded smooth as glass, with no visible hinges or lock on this side.

“Looks like it can only be opened from the other side,” Erin said.

“Or we batter it down from this side,” Jordan offered.

She suspected such an action would win no favors from the owner, Hugh de Payens. “I think we must wait,” she said. “Show patience.”

“So then we wait,” Rhun said. He dropped to a knee to fondle the cub’s ear, who looked none too happy with his wet status.

Jordan stepped to the door. “Or we do this.”

He raised his fist and knocked on the thick plank, then stepped back, cupping his lips. “Hello!” he hollered, his voice booming in the small cavern.

Erin held her breath, but after there was no response, she let it sigh out.

“Maybe no one’s home,” Jordan said with a shrug.

Another member of their party tried.

The cub leaned back his head and let out a massive roar.

Erin jumped slightly, wincing at the noise, shocked that such a huge outburst came from such a small creature.

It sounded like a challenge.

When the echoes died away, a deep voice intoned, seeming to rise from everywhere. It made Erin’s skin crawl.

“Only the lion may enter.”

A scraping sound came from beyond the thick plank, as if a bar had been drawn back. The door swung slowly inward.

Erin tried to see past the threshold, but it was too shadowy, the space lit by flickering torchlight.

Still on one knee beside his cub, Rhun pointed to the door. “You can do it.”

The lion rose timidly, then turned and gently gripped Rhun’s wrist with his teeth. The cub tugged Rhun toward the open door.

“Doesn’t look like the little guy wants to go into that creepy place by himself,” Jordan said. “Can’t say I blame him.”

Rhun tried to resist, but the cub refused to unlatch from him.

The voice returned, slightly softened by amusement. “It seems your companion will not enter without you, priest. So you may all enter, but you may not proceed beyond the first room.”

Jordan patted the cub. “Good going, bud. And here I thought I might get to sit this one out.”

Led by Rhun and his cat, the group edged one by one over the threshold.

Erin studied the antechamber beyond the door. Two torches hung from iron brackets, revealing a space the size of a two-car garage, carved out of the granite of the mountain. An archway opened on the far side, but plainly they weren’t allowed to pass through there.

At least, not yet.

From that archway, a figure stepped out to join them. “Be at ease,” he greeted them, but he kept a wary distance. “I am Hugh de Payens.”

His appearance and demeanor surprised Erin. She had expected to confront a medieval hermit, someone dressed in simple rough robes, someone like Francis of Assisi. Instead, the man wore khaki-colored pants and a thick woolen sweater. He looked like a farmer or a fisherman, certainly not a former priest.

She studied his round face, his wide brown eyes, his mop of curly black hair. In spite of his cautious expression, he looked kind. He held his thin hands clasped loosely in front of him, plainly carrying no weapons.