Everyone nodded, the anticipation swirling in the air around us.
“They don’t come intoourbuilding and make fools of us. So let’s get these sons of bitches!”
The agents started stomping their feet—darkly rhythmic, like war drums.
This was it. The moment we had been preparing for, for months. To obliterate the Apparitions once and for all. To make them taste the hellfire they had been creating all this time. We were ready.
When the plane landed, we got into the vans provided by Interpol. Claudia and her people were standing by as back-up, in case we needed them. As soon as we enter the church, they will descend—closing the streets off and guarding every exit—a second barrier in case the Apparitions make it through ours.
When we pulled up to the church, it was already midnight. The streets were quiet, only a few non-descript cars parked under the dim streetlights, a dog barking in the distance.
Was this the right place? The towering church was completely dark, the gargoyles on its steeples sneering down at us.
“This feels weird,” I whispered to Owen, who was tugging at my bulletproof vest, making sure it was secured.
He handed me a gun. “Stay behind me at all times, okay?”
I nodded, not able to take my eyes off the eerie church.
“I mean it, Ava. No shenanigans.”
“Okay,” I reassured him, hoping it would take the worried look from his face. “No shenanigans. I stay with you.”
He sighed out a breath and steeled himself. He pressed the button on his comms wire and nodded at the people in the van with us. “Let’s go!” came his voice in my ear and agents burst from the vans.
We moved stealthily through the empty church, into the back rooms, and stopped at the door that led into the basement.
“In position,” Owen whispered over the comms. I held my breath as we waited for Marshall’s reply. His team was breaching the basement from the outside door in the backyard of the church.
Owen had a deep furrow between his brows. “Nobody. No lookout, nothing,” he muttered to himself, his leg bouncing up and down.
There was classical music coming from the basement door.
Adrenaline was coursing wildly through me. Yes. Something was off. But there was no time to dwell on it.
“In position,” Marshall answered.
Owen nodded at the agents behind us and they nodded back. “Move in!” He kicked the door open and we bounded down the musty basement stairs, shining our flashlights ahead as we descended into the darkness, the music getting louder.
When we reached the bottom, the narrow stairway opened into a large cavern. An overwhelming smell of mold cloyed my noise as we spread out into the dark room.
Across the room, flashlights came bursting through the door. Marshall.
I felt no other presences in the dark room.
Owen gripped my arm painfully, pulling me half behind him.
What the hell is going on?
A loud clicking sound startled us, and lights flooded the room, blinding us.
I shielded my eyes and blinked the pain away, forcing them to focus, while my heart hammered in my throat.
“The fuck?” An agent breathed next to me.
The old stone room was empty, except for chairs packed neatly in rows, right in the middle of the cavern.
Had we missed it? Were we at the wrong church?
