For my part, I pretended I didn’t care about him sleeping with that congresswoman in D.C. He loved me, and I knew I was special. And if he was too blatant about such things, I’d break his nose again.
On the other hand, I would prefer to gain access to Muller’s secrets without all the humping and grunting. I wasn’t the same woman who killed innocents for the Illuminati without any remorse. And finding love had changed my attitude toward sex.
One of the things I carried with me to Salisbury was the handbook every Knight was given when they enlisted. I checked it and found there a section on what to wear for every occasion. In general, the Knights had two uniforms. One was worn for doing dirty work, the other on all other occasions.
The manual also set out the conditions and circumstances for wearing civilian clothing. Being on leave was the major excuse, and for women, it was the only time they might wear a dress. But I had yet to see any Knights—at least people that I knew were Knights—in civvies in Salisbury. In the end, I decided to play it safe and wore my uniform to dinner.
I didn’t know if that was the right call or not. Muller showed up at my hotel in his uniform and didn’t give me any indication he was disappointed in my choice of clothing. My hotel was near the square, and he didn’t have a car waiting. It was a pleasant evening, and we walked the three blocks to the restaurant.
It definitely wasn’t a pub, but it wasn’t super fancy, either. Italian with a British flavor and a rather extensive menu. We were seated by a window with a view of the cathedral towering over the buildings between us. It was obvious that the waiter knew him, and Muller ordered a bottle of wine while we perused our menus.
I surreptitiously glanced around. The majority of the men eating there wore either Knights’ uniforms or were priests. Only a couple of the priests sat at tables with women, and none were alone with a woman. Almost all of the Knights were officers, and most were alone with a woman, half of whom also wore Knights’ uniforms. Of course, it was impossible to tell if the women in civilian clothes were Knights or not.
Muller was an urbane and charming dinner companion, although when the waiter cracked the third bottle of wine, I suspected the under-marshal was trying to get me drunk. He should have been more successful, considering my body weight, but bartenders tended to have a bit more tolerance for alcohol than most people, not to mention better skills at pacing themselves. I didn’t think he noticed that I drank half as much as he did.
He did get very tipsy, and by the time we ordered after-dinner coffee drinks, he was obligingly bragging about his responsibilities. Since I was also involved in security, I thought he felt as though he was speaking to a colleague. I doubted he had ever found a girl more interested in his work.
His gait was a bit unsteady when we left the restaurant, but he wasn’t staggering. I was profoundly grateful for that, because he was too large for me to hold up without using magic. Karl was right in his supposition that Muller would take me back to his place rather than go to my hotel.
“Thank you for the wonderful evening,” I said when we reached his home. “I hope to see you again.” I pressed against him, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek, then quickly backed away before he could wrap his arms around me. “Have a good night.”
Forestalling his reaction, I turned and walked away, taking to the shadows and avoiding any streets where I saw people. It took me about twenty minutes to reach my hotel, and I entered through the side entrance Oriel and I had used the night before.
As I got ready for bed, I smiled. Muller hadn’t gotten what he wanted, but I was pretty sure he was hooked and would try again. It was too bad I wouldn’t be able to play with him again for two weeks. Perhaps Karl could do something about that.
Chapter 20
I had one more day of leave, but I wanted to avoid both Muller and my drunken, horny admirers. I used the computer in the hotel’s business room to do some research and discovered the perfect way to spend my last day. Alone.
Although officially Knights were supposed to have special travel permits to leave their Salisbury stronghold, I knew that security was lax, and they checked only those in uniform. In the morning, I put on my civilian clothes, packed my duffel, and hiked down to the railway station. The express train was a little more expensive but worth it. I bought a ticket and was in Bath in less than ninety minutes.
Armed with a tourist brochure I scored at the train station, I first hit the hot springs that the Celts and the Romans had made famous, and soaked for two hours of absolute bliss. Alone. Lunch, then a tour of the town’s gardens took me back to the train station. I changed clothes in the ladies’ room and grabbed the train back to Salisbury. My uniform and identification got me through security. I ate dinner at the pub next door to the station, and the bus took me back to my barracks. It was the best day I could remember.
Back in reality, I got up the following morning and led my circle in strengthening the wards around the Heart.
But three days later, when our rotation came around again, Scarpa knocked on my door earlier than my usual waking time.
“There is a change this morning. Dress quickly.”
I did as she said and emerged from my room to find her waiting for me along with the sergeants in charge of the other three circles. “Come.”
She led us outside and set out toward Stonehenge. “Your circle will not participate in today’s ritual,” she told me. “The infidels have launched a major counterattack in Eastern Europe, and we must use the power of the stone to fend off their impertinence.”
I reached out for the ley line, and it felt normal. Then I realized that I was going to see how the Knights used the Heart to corrupt the world’s magic. Karl and the Fae had come through and triggered the event we hoped for.
As we left the compound, Standard-Bearer Dal Corso joined us, and we had to quicken our pace to keep up with her long strides.
I was used to seeing only two sleepy guards at the entrance to the underground factories and the chapel where the Heart was kept. But that morning there was a crowd, and all of the witches waiting for us were at least chevalier rank. No mages were present.
We descended inside, and Dal Corso led the way to the chamber with the Heart. Waiting for us there were two Chaplains, who were also witches, and a young woman—more a girl—dressed in a diaphanous white gown. Her sandy-blonde hair hung to her waist, and her head was crowned by a ring of spring flowers. As I drew closer, I saw that her face was expressionless, and her eyes were completely blank. She stared sightlessly ahead.
I could say that made me uneasy, but I’d be lying. It completely freaked me out. I knew from The History of the Illuminati that Master Benedict and others of the Illuminati’s ruling elite had extended their lives unnaturally using blood magic. It was one of the charges the Knights Magica had made against the Illuminati for centuries.
Ever since the Knights made their play for supremacy, I had wondered if they lived up to their professed religious ideals. The ruthlessness with which they suppressed their enemies in the Church had made me cynical. Their treatment of me when I was captured crushed the rest of my hopes. But I had not gone as far as suspecting them of taking the final, horrifying step into evil. And in that place, I was powerless to stop what they were about to do.
Dal Corso set tall candle holders around the altar, then Scarpa came behind her and set thick, roughly made candles on them. One of the chaplains poured a line of salt connecting the candle pillars, and the other chaplain poured another circle of salt about fifteen feet farther out.
I hadn’t been told what to do, so I stood with the other sergeants and watched. The rest of the witches—the officers—entered the outer circle and joined hands. There were thirteen of them, with Scarpa at the point.
Dal Corso took the girl by the hand and led her to the altar, then lit the candles. One of the chaplains stepped forward and blessed the girl, then stepped back out of the circles. The standard-bearer laid a bouquet of flowers on the altar to either side of the Heart and walked around the inside of the inner circle, sketching a rune at each of the cardinal points.
Returning to the girl’s side, Dal Corso, a knife in one hand, began to chant. Scarpa, at the focus of the witches’ circle chanted in counter point. I could feel the magic they were drawing begin to fill the room, and I braced myself.
Abruptly, Dal Corso grabbed the girl by the hair. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. The ley line boiled, and the stench of rotting meat filled the chamber.
After a few minutes, I heard the rustling of clothing and scuffling of feet. I opened my eyes and saw the girl’s body slumped in front of the altar. The altar and the Heart were drenched in blood. After another round of chanting, the candles were blown out and the circles were broken by scuffing the salt. As far as I could tell, no one else in the room seemed to notice the corruption of the ley line, but I was the only mage present.
All of the officers, including the chaplains, Scarpa, and Dal Corso, left. The sergeants that I stood with made no move to go, only watching the others. When we were alone, one of them touched me on the shoulder and motioned for me to follow him.
From a long, ornate box sitting on the floor against one wall, they pulled out a length of white silk cloth and several cords of gold-colored silk. We laid the cloth on the floor, then picked up the girl’s body and put it in the middle. We rolled her up and tied the bundle with the cords.
Next, we pulled out a long, wide wooden plank and set the body on it. I discovered the plank had four handles on its sides. We picked it up and carried it down the long hall to the exit at Stonehenge.
Awaiting us was a white hearse. We loaded the plank with the body into it, then got in and drove to the Salisbury cemetery. A priest waited by an open grave. We lowered the girl’s body into it, he said a few words, and then we used the shovels present to fill in the grave. When we finished, we left the hearse, got into one of the Knights’ iconic black SUVs, and drove back to our barracks. During the whole macabre morning, not a one of us said a word.
Scarpa intercepted me on the way back to my room. “Are you all right?”