“I cannot imagine how hopeless it’s been living as a Nightwalker without the guidance of one of our prelates.”Matthias held up the sketch again.“This is not like the crosses wielded by Silas or other members of the Order.It’s on another scale.When activated, this relic releases a light that specifically targets our kind.The corruption in our bodies, our very essence—it burns it away.”
“Burns it away,” Rebecca repeated from her corner.
“Purifies,” Matthias corrected.“Cleanses.Returns us to dust, yes, but also—according to the Order—releases whatever remains of our souls from this cursed existence.”
“But how is this one different?”I asked.“The cross Silas carried did that.”
Matthias shook his head.“This is far more powerful.The light can spread for a hundred miles in every direction.It will penetrate any substance except perhaps a barrier forged of lead.One activation could cleanse an entire city of our kind.”
I scrunched my brow.Something didn’t fit.“If that’s true, how do you know about it?Why would the Order tell you they possessed such a weapon?”I took a step closer.“It would kill you too.It would kill all the Nightwalkers in New York.”
Something shifted in Matthias’s expression then—a mixture of ecstasy and terror that made him look truly mad.He pressed the sketch against his chest much in the way I’d held St.Theresa’s book before.
“That’s the point,” he whispered.“Don’t you see?This is our chance at redemption!”
It took all my willpower to hold my tongue.The Order of the Morning Dawn had used my Christian faith against me at first, too.They claimed that fidelity to their mission was the only way one of our kind might avoid eternal damnation.
“The Order has promised,” he continued, “that those of us who willingly take up the relic, who activate it knowing we’ll be destroyed—we’ll earn our salvation through sacrifice.One ultimate act of service to prove our repentance.”
“Suicide,” Ruth spat the word.“They’re asking you to commit suicide.”
“Martyrdom,” Matthias countered.“The plan—they call it the Purge—requires faithful Nightwalkers to carry the relic into vampire strongholds.We activate it, cleansing the area of all undead corruption, including ourselves.Through this sacrifice, we will be immediately translated to heaven.”
I watched Desiderius as Matthias spoke.His face remained a mask, but something in his stillness spoke volumes.He’d heard promises like this before from the Order.Promises of redemption that likely never materialized.
“They need more volunteers,” Matthias added, his gaze moving between us with desperate hope.“More faithful vampires willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.I came to offer my sire the chance to join us.To find redemption at last.And you—“ he looked at me, at Ruth, at Rebecca, ”—all of you could participate.Prove that despite what we’ve become, we can still choose the light.”
The fervor in his voice, the absolute conviction, reminded me of the tent revival preachers.Men who spoke of hellfire with such certainty you could almost smell the sulfur.But there was something else beneath his zealotry—a note of desperation that suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced himself.
“When does the Order plan to use this weapon?”I asked.
“Soon.Within days, once they finish the consecration rituals.”Matthias’s wounded arm twitched, trying to rise despite its obvious dislocation.“That’s why I had to find you now.Had to give you this chance.”
TheechoofMatthias’sdeparture still clung to the charcoal kiln’s ancient stones when Rebecca broke the silence.
“What if it’s true?”
I shook my head.“It’s not true.The Order might promise redemption, but in this case, it’s obvious what they’re doing.They’re leveraging the desperation of vampires like us, who fear for our souls, and giving us a false-hope, all so we can kill ourselves while killing others.”
Rebecca didn’t look convinced.“Maybe.But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go.The Order provides blood from willing donors!We could at least pretend to go along for a while, so we can feed without killing anyone!”
Desiderius’s laugh was bitter as hemlock.He shifted his position slightly—the first movement he’d made in nearly an hour—and fixed Rebecca with those ancient eyes that had witnessed centuries of betrayal.“The Order of the Morning Dawn has never shown mercy to our kind.They might offer blood, but it’s only so that we become more dependent on them for sustenance.”
Ruth pushed herself away from the wall.“So what if it’s a lie?”Her voice carried a caustic edge.“If the weapon can do what Matthias said—if it can truly destroy us all at once—they’ll come for us, eventually.”She paused, letting that sink in before adding, “Matthias himself might come back wielding the damned thing just so he can take us with him.Better to die fighting our enemies than cowering in this pit.”
Rebecca scratched her head.“I don’t know what to believe, but he said New York!That’s where Father O’Malley went!”
“It can’t be a coincidence!”Ruth’s voice lifted a little.“It must be providence.”
I clutched St.Teresa’s book tighter against my chest.The saint’s words echoed in my mind: “The soul that is united with God habitually enjoys the greatest tranquility.”
“Father O’Malley would have invited us to follow if that had been his intention.”I took a deep breath.“He knew our nature, our needs.That he urged us to be patient, to endure the trial of our hunger if necessary, tells me he didn’t want us to go find him.”
“Besides,” I continued, “Father John said he’d have word from the bishop in days, perhaps a week at most.This suffering—“ I paused, searching for the right words, ”—it’s redemptive.We’re sharing in Christ’s passion, as Father O’Malley taught us.We shouldn’t abandon our post here based on the ravings of someone who might well be delusional.”
“Delusional?”Rebecca’s voice pitched higher.“He knew things, Alice!About the Order of the Morning Dawn, about the weapon.We need to help.Stop them before they can do this.”
She had a point.The weapon Matthias spoke about was serious.If it were real, someone had to stop the Order from using it.
