I arranged Michael’s limbs into a more dignified position, straightening his clothing as best I could.These small gestures of respect mattered, even if the soul temporarily separated from the flesh could not witness them.I had to believe that dignity afforded to their bodies somehow reached their displaced souls.
The quiet purr of an automobile engine broke the night’s stillness.My head jerked up, senses instantly alert.The street had been empty when we fought; I thought I had made certain of that, though things happened so fast I could have missed it.Now, a sleek black vehicle idled at the far end of the alleyway, its headlamps extinguished, rendering it nearly invisible to human eyes in the darkness.
I rose slowly, my gaze fixed on the car as it began to pull away from the curb.In the instant before it disappeared around the corner, the rear of the vehicle caught the faint light from a nearby gas lamp.Painted on the trunk in discreet gold lettering was an emblem—a rising sun with a cross at its center.
The same symbol Desiderius had shown me in his drawing.
My blood would have run cold, had it still flowed warmly through my veins.Someone had witnessed our confrontation with the ferals.Someone had watched without intervening, without helping—or hindering.Someone connected to whatever organization now used that symbol.
They had seen what we could do.What I could do.
The car disappeared into the night, leaving me alone with the staked bodies and a growing sense of dread.I scanned the surrounding buildings, the shadowed doorways, wondering if other eyes still watched from hidden vantage points.My hand slipped into my handbag, fingers closing around the cool metal of my pistol, though I knew the danger had already passed—for tonight, at least.
Ruth and Rebecca returned shortly, pushing a mortician’s cart before them.Its wheels creaked softly against the cobblestones, a mournful counterpoint to our hushed voices as we worked to lift the staked bodies onto its surface.
“Something troubles you,” Rebecca observed as we arranged Catherine’s rigid form beside the others.Her perception had always been keen.
“Someone observed us,” I said quietly, glancing again at the corner where the automobile had disappeared.“A car bearing the emblem Desiderius showed us—the sunrise and cross.”
Ruth’s head snapped up, her eyes widening.“The Order?Here?”
“I cannot say with certainty,” I replied, covering the bodies with a black cloth Rebecca had brought.“They watched without interfering.Which concerns me more than if they had attacked.”
“They’re studying us.”Rebecca’s voice was flat.“Learning our methods, our weaknesses.”
I nodded grimly.“Which means we must be even more vigilant.And we must accelerate the training of our new...charges.”I gestured to the covered forms on the cart.
We moved through the darkened streets like a funeral procession, Ruth and Rebecca pushing the cart while I walked ahead, scanning for any sign of further surveillance.The journey seemed longer than usual, each shadow concealing potential danger, each passing carriage a possible threat.
Sister Josephine awaited us in the chapel, her aged form kneeling before the altar, surrounded by the gentle glow of prayer candles.She did not turn as we entered, though I knew she had heard us.Her lips moved in silent devotion, her rosary beads clicking softly between her gnarled fingers.
We left the cart in the corridor and entered the chapel quietly, joining her in prayer.Only when the last prayer faded did she struggle to her feet, each movement a negotiation between will and worn cartilage.
Sister Josephine’s rheumy eyes traveled from the mud on my hem to the tear in Rebecca’s sleeve.“I see your evening gown has acquired some rather uncharitable stains since the opera.”
“Yes,” I answered, the single syllable heavy with all we had experienced.“Three ferals confronted us afterwards.”
“They confronted you?”Sister Josephine tilted her head.“That’s unusual.You are not suited to their… tastes…”
I nodded.“It was certainly unusual.We typically have to track them down ourselves.I have reason to suspect that someone had arranged our confrontation.After the incident, I saw a horseless carriage with the same sigil Desiderius had shown me painted on the back.”
Sister Josephine’s lips thinned as she exhaled sharply through her nose.“This changes everything.These people aren’t just watching our convent—they’re studying you.They know what you are, Alice.What we harbor here.”
“And what we do,” I added quietly.“This goes far beyond complaints about our work with immigrants or even anti-Catholic sentiment.If I’d known someone was watching, we might have handled the situation differently.”
“How could we have done anything else?”Rebecca piped in.“We tried to give them hope, to share a little about what we do, but they were determined to attack.”
“It was strange,” I admitted, “that they’d lose control to attackus.If we were warm-blooded humans, losing control would make sense.But there’s nothing about us that should have triggered their bloodlust.”
“Unless they were there on orders.”Sister Josephine shook her head.“You will need to handle them delicately.You know how unpredictable the lost can be when we revive them.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, tasting the familiar copper tang of my blood.“Every time I drive in that stake, I condemn them to a purgatory they cannot comprehend until they’ve endured it.Yes, the shock has brought many back from the brink—made them receptive when nothing else could.But I remember what it was like when I was newly turned.”My fingers traced the outline of my locket through the fabric of my dress.“These poor people have already known more suffering than they deserved.”
Sister Josephine nodded, no judgment in her weathered face.“And this troubles you still, after all this time.After you’ve experienced how such sorrow, how further suffering was necessary to awaken your faith,”
It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway.“It does.Each time I drive the wood home, I cast a soul into darkness, however temporarily.What right have I to inflict such torment, even in the name of eventual salvation?”
“The same right any physician has to cause pain in service of healing.”Her voice was gentle but firm.“Would you rather have left them to continue their rampage?To kill innocents and damn themselves further?”
