Dropping my hand, Bes pivots sharply up another set of stairs, taking us through an open tunnel and over to a third flight of descending steps. They spit us out in front of a wide doorway—where a nun waits for us.
A nun who works for the order?Now, I’ve seen everything.
Bes approaches the holy woman. “Mara.”
Mara?I nearly stumble. She’s completely unrecognizable, except for her bright azure irises. She looks ridiculous dressed head to toe in black and white, like the nuns of my nightmares. I wish it were Kali in her place instead, but all I can hope is she’s good at what she does. And that she can put whatever petty differences she’s invented between us aside.
The sound of hurried footsteps on the cobblestone hastens toward us. My stomach lurches.
Mara waves us inside, the cloth of her habit billowing. “Hurry.”
The moment she shuts the doors and throws the heavy deadbolt across them, hard fists pound against the wood. Pressing my back against the wall, my heart rattles inside my chest. They continue to bang on the door, but it holds fast.
Giving myself a moment to slow my pulse, I take in our surroundings. The ceiling is lower here than the outside led me to believe. It comes to a shallow point from the four arching beams stretched across it. The only light filters in from a frosted rectangular window facing the courtyard we came from. Stairs cloaked in shadow climb the wall at the back of the room, wooden chairs stacked up against the other walls. Otherwise, it’s empty.A glorified storage closet.
Bes takes my hand in his again—I look over at him and squeeze back. His dark brown eyes bore into mine.
“Apologies, Miss Hawkins,” he whispers. I’m about to ask what he’s sorry for, when he leans in closer. “If these men do capture us—if they know who we are—you must remember the blood oath you took, and the one word you must utter. It won’t take them long to realize you’re incapable of telling them anything of value, and they’ll take your life on their own terms—slowly and painfully.”
My breathing hastens as regret at my own hubris rages through me.How could I have thought that swearing that blood oath wouldn’t have consequences beyond satiating Ansaldo?I swallow hard, placing my hand over my pants’ pocket to feel the outline of my switchblade.
He reads my thoughts again: “It shouldn’t come to that. But, if it does, believe me, death would be a respite compared to what they’d do to you if you hadn’t taken the blood oath. At least, this way, your death would be swift.”
Gaping, I peer at Cec, waiting for him to refute his cousin, or to make light of the situation at least. His expression is serious for once, focused, his only sign of unrest in the flex of his jaw. Betrayal sits like a sharp-edged rock in my stomach.
“So, this is your plan, is it? After fighting to keep me alive all this time, you want to watch me die?” My nostrils flare. “Is this retribution for what happened the other night?”
His gaze darkens. “How could you think so little of me that I would seek vengeance for that? I wouldneverspeak falsely when it comes to your life: you cannot be captured. Just like the God Men, these Nazis know exactly how to draw out your weaknesses and use them against you, and you’re stronger than most. It would take a good amount for them to break you.”
“I should never have taken that blood oath,” I mutter.
Bes’s throat bobs. “If past experience lends itself at all, this won’t be the last time you’ll regret it.”
His grip on my hand tightens, his next pause deafening. “I’d take your oath upon myself if I could. The thought of you dying because of it is unconscionable. But for you to be tortured for hours by men who see you as nothing more than a means to an end, and then kill you when they realize they can’t use you for that end? I cannot allow that.” His other hand reaches toward my face before dropping back to his side. “Watching them torture you… it would be a special sort of anguish for me. They’d make sport out of it, and I’m not certain it wouldn’t breakme.”
Tears bite behind my eyes at his declaration, both in anger and appreciation.
“Bes Belzoni, you are endlessly frustrating.”
He doesn’t reply, but I know he thinks the same of me.
“As heartwarming as all this is, we don’t have the luxury of time.” Out of the corner of my eye, Mara reaches deep inside her costume and procures two blades that bear a strikingresemblance to Viking Scramasax switchblades. “That door won’t hold for long if there are more of them.”
Bes regards Mara. “As far as we could tell, there were only the two.”
She nods. “Good.”
The banging finally stops.Thank God.
She waits a moment before speaking again. “They’ve likely gone to find someone with a key.”
Bes backs away from the door. To my surprise, though, he doesn’t drop my hand. “What’s our next step?”
“There’s a secret entrance to the castle inside this church.”
“Then we need to find it.”
“If only it were that simple.”
