I tilted my head.“What kind of alternative?”
Desiderius moved to the window, his fingers parting the heavy curtains just enough to survey the dark street below.I spotted Matthias slipping into Brother Marcus’s office like a thief—shoulders hunched, eyes darting to shadows.Most peculiar, given that Marcus himself was nowhere to be found.The moment presented itself, and I followed him.”
I was able to connect the dots myself.Give Desiderius’s influence over his spawn, he didn’t even have to feign subterfuge.He could have pressed Matthias about his intentions, and made him forget about the entire encounter afterwards.“What did you find?”
He placed the portfolio on the small table between us.The leather felt oddly warm beneath my fingers, as if it retained the heat of living hands.Inside, neat rows of handwritten pages awaited, each one covered in precise script.My own name leaped out from the first page:Subject: Alice Bladewell.
“The testimony is dated three weeks ago,” Desiderius said softly.“Well before our arrival.”
Gabriel.The name signed at the bottom of each page struck me like a physical blow.My progeny—the seminary student I’d turned in my darkest days, whom Silas had supposedly destroyed—had provided this testimony.Line after line of impossible knowledge filled the pages.Details of my transformation by Mercy Brown.My recruitment by the Order.
My hands trembled as I turned to the next section.Here, the testimony grew more damning still.Gabriel described conversations we’d never had, meetings that existed only in his imagination—or did they?The certainty with which he wrote made me question my own memories.Had there been moments during my turning of him when our minds had touched?When he’d gleaned these secrets from my blood?
“Look here.”Desiderius pointed to a passage near the middle.“He speaks of Blake’s death.”
The words swam before my eyes:She grew to resent his authority, his persistent doubts about her nature.When he realized she sought redemption through means apart from the Order, Blake attempted to intervene.It’s my opinion that Miss Bladewell played a role in his death, though I cannot say for certain if it was the Nightwalker’s intention of if she’d been set up by those who pretended to assist her outside of the Order.
“That’s not exactly accurate.”I whispered, but even to my own ears, the denial sounded weak.“It was more complicated than that.”
“Perhaps.”Desiderius’s tone suggested he believed otherwise.“But Brother Marcus accepts it as truth.Though, thankfully, there’s no explicit mention of Father O’Malley or St.Mary’s Parish.He wrote only of those who ‘pretended’ to assist you.”
Indeed, the margins bore additional notes in a different hand—sharp, angular letters that proclaimed judgment with each stroke.Confirmed through secondary sources.Pattern consistent with subject’s psychological profile.Subject is desperate for redemption but remains volatile.Best course of action, watch her closely, but do not allow her realize our suspicion.Ideal candidate for sacrifice.
I forced myself to continue reading, though each word felt like swallowing glass.The dossier detailed my movements across New England with startling accuracy.Places I’d fed.People I’d saved.People I’d failed to save.How could Gabriel know these things?How could anyone?
Then, near the end, a phrase appeared that made everything else fade to insignificance:the Gilded Cross.
Brother Marcus’s notes grew more extensive here, his handwriting betraying excitement.The Cross responds only to the pure of heart.Subject Bladewell’s human faith, her unwavering pursuit of holiness even in undeath, and her natural vampiric resilience make her ideal for our purposes.Unlike other weapons, such as the wooden stake, which can be removed and restore a vampire form his just condemnation in hell, the Gilded Cross exposes the condition of the soul without error.No vampire damned by its light will ever escape eternal torment.
“This Gilded Cross must be the weapon we’re looking for.”I continued examining the notes.There were so many and there was no order to the scribbles on the page, it was difficult to follow.How many of these notes were explicit plans, and which were just thoughts in a moment, considerations he may or may not have committed himself to?
“Look at the bottom of the page.”Desiderius directed my eyes there with his index finger.“A relic from the earliest days of Christianity.Contains a splinter of the True Cross?Forged from the silver paid to Judas?The nails that pierced our Lord’s flesh?”
“I don’t think he knows.He’s cycling through theories, perhaps his own or those of others,” I added.
“So it would seem.”He gestured to the final pages.“His notes reference testing, preparations.He speaks of Gabriel’s important role.I suspect, given what he’s written about you, it isn’tjustabout Gabriel.If you’re the best candidate to wield it, a potential or ideal sacrifice…”
I closed the portfolio, my mind racing with the implications of what I’d just read.The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thicker, as if the very walls conspired to crush me.Marcus knew—knew about my past, my struggles, my desperate quest for redemption.He suspected me in Silas’s death, yet still he intended to use me.A pawn in his grand, divine chess game.But what of Gabriel?Where did his loyalties lie?
“We need a plan, Desiderius,” I murmured, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.“Marcus is playing us, playing me.He knows more than he’s letting on, and he intends to use that knowledge to his advantage.”
Desiderius nodded, his expression grave.“Indeed.And Gabriel...there is something amiss with him, Alice.His involvement with the Gilded Cross goes beyond mere zealotry.He’s guiding Marcus, or at the very least, influencing his interpretations.Why else would his notes be all over those manuscripts?His handwriting is unmistakable.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to force some sense into my thoughts.“Gabriel’s knowledge of the Gilded Cross, his involvement with Marcus...it’s all connected.And if Marcus sees me as a potential sacrifice, then Gabriel must know about it.”
Desiderius watched me intently, his eyes reflecting the dim light of our hideout.“There is much about Gabriel that remains unknown, Alice.His past, his true motivations...we must tread carefully.”
It gnawed at me, this sense of being a rat in a maze, scurrying towards a destination predetermined by unseen hands.“Gabriel’s involvement...it’s personal, Desiderius.He’s not just guiding Marcus; he’s orchestrating something.Something that began long before we arrived.”
Desiderius remained still, his silhouette stark against the faint moonlight filtering through the grimy window.“His knowledge of the Gilded Cross, his annotations—they suggest a depth of understanding that surpasses even Marcus’s scholarly pursuits.It is as if...”He hesitated, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.“As if he has experienced its power firsthand.”
The words hung heavy in the air.If Gabriel had indeed experienced the power of the Gilded Cross, it meant he was far more entangled in this web than I had initially thought.The idea that my own progeny, whom I had believed destroyed, could manipulate events from the shadows was both terrifying and infuriating.
But it also provided us with an opportunity.“I have to tap into my sire bond.I have to figure out how to make him tell us what he knows, what the plan is, if there’s a way to destroy the Gilded Cross.”
“You understand the risks, Alice,” Desiderius said, his voice barely above a whisper.“The bond is unpredictable.You may not find the answers you seek, and Gabriel may sense your intrusion.”
I nodded, my mind already made up.“I have to try.If Gabriel is guiding Marcus, if he knows more about the Gilded Cross than we do, then he’s our best chance to understand.”
