CHAPTER NINETEEN

It shouldn’t take more than half a day at most to retrieve the black diamond and get back here,” Dalton said to Isabelle.


She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”


“I’ve made arrangements for you to wait in the chapel,” Michael said. “You’ll be safe in there. It’s the most sacred part of the castle.”


“Whatever you think is best.”


Angelique was worried about Isabelle. She looked pale. She kneeled down next to her. “Are you all right?”


“I’m fine. I’m tired and a little freaked out by all this. I just want it to be over. Go get the black diamond so Michael can do his testing on me. Once we figure out whether or not I’m some freakazoid demon, I’ll feel better.”


Angelique sighed and squeezed Isabelle’s fingers. “You’re no more freak than I am.”


Isabelle snorted. “Whatever. Just go.”


“Dalton, take Isabelle to the chapel,” Michael said. “We’ll start loading up the vehicle.”


Dalton nodded. Isabelle frowned, but stood, letting go of Angelique’s fingers.


“I’ll be back soon,” she said to Izzy, but her sister had already left the room.


Angelique’s stomach tightened. She didn’t like this feeling.


Dalton walked quietly alongside Isabelle, wishing there was something he could say to make her feel better.


“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said.


“Really? I don’t see why not. You did plenty of it before.”


He stopped in the middle of the hall and grabbed her wrist, ever mindful of the zing of electricity that still existed between them. “I’m sorry. I did what I had to do.”


She pulled her hand away and rubbed the spot on her wrist where he’d touched her. “And sex was part of that.”


“I’m not going to apologize for making love to you, Isabelle. And I think we both know this attraction is mutual. But it had nothing to do with my assignment. I did it because I wanted to.”


“If I’d known who you were it wouldn’t have happened. You used me. You had sex with me to get close to me so I’d trust you. You only wanted the book.”


Her pain stabbed at him. “Yes, I wanted the book. But I didn’t have to make love to you to get the book. I wanted you.”


“But it sure made it easier, didn’t it?”


“No, it actually made it more difficult.”


Her gaze held his for long seconds. He felt her hesitation, as if there was more she wanted to say. But she turned and started walking away. “Spare me your guilt trip, Dalton. You and the Realm of Light got what you wanted. I’m here, I’m your guinea pig. Just drop me off in the chapel and go get the black diamond.”


Dalton sighed and they resumed walking.


They arrived at the chapel and Dalton pushed open the heavy wooden doors and led Isabelle inside.


He hated seeing her like this, hated knowing he’d caused her such misery.


She took a seat on one of the old wood pews and stared straight ahead at the altar, refusing to acknowledge him.


“You need anything, there’ll be one of the Realm guards posted outside. Don’t leave this chapel until we get back. It’s for your safety.”


“Uh-huh.”


He wanted to hold her, to kiss her again. She’d been so vibrant, smiling, full of life when he’d met her. A mass of contradictions wrapped up in one compelling package. He’d wanted to know more about her, to take time to learn her.


Now she was like an empty shell.


He’d get the old Isabelle back. Even if it meant her walking away from him, he’d make sure she was happy again. Hopefully this test with the black diamond would help.


He walked out of the chapel and closed the door, nodding to the guard who took position at the doorway.


As he walked down the long hallway back to the castle, he felt empty inside. Just like Isabelle, he imagined.


Dalton wished things were different. But he of all people knew some things were set in stone and couldn’t be changed.


“I feel them both,” Tase said, allowing a sharp smile of satisfaction. He could taste the weakness within them at the same time he felt the power of the black diamond surging to life. “My fellow brothers, it’s time to move. They are vulnerable.”


“Our demons are in place and ready,” Aron said. “We can move in now.”


Tase raised his hand. “Be patient. Instruct them not to move too quickly.”


Aron frowned. “We can take them.”


Tase shook his head. “Not yet. One will come to us. All we have to do is wait. The other we will have to fight for. But wait until the time is right. Too soon and we will lose what we came for. I don’t want to do that.”


They were so close to having everything. Everything.


Soon the Realm would lose all they held dear.


And for the Sons of Darkness, supreme rule would begin.


As they approached the old church, Angelique felt a sense of peace settle over her. That’s how she’d known this would be the perfect spot to hide the black diamond. It had felt right, and when she’d met Father Vintaldi she’d known immediately she could trust him.


Though he was old-had to be in his seventies at least-Father Vintaldi looked healthy and robust and more than fit enough to defend his church. In fact, there was a sparkling vitality about him that made him look youthful. Maybe it was his engaging smile.


He’d welcomed her at the gates, brought her inside the church, and she’d been surrounded by a peaceful calm the entire time. She’d felt safe there, and knew the black diamond would be as well.


She’d confided in him that she was in trouble, that dark forces were after the rock-and really, that’s all it looked like, a useless rock. For all she knew he thought she was an utter lunatic, but he swore he’d hide it in the church until she returned for it, and he’d give it to no one but her.


She’d believed him.


“I can’t believe you handed over the black diamond to a stranger,” Ryder grumbled as they pulled up to the front gate.


The town was so small the road wasn’t even paved, and as they parked and got out, a hot breeze kicked up and a cloud of dust swirled around their feet.


“I went with my instincts, Ryder,” she explained. “Sometimes you just have to trust people.”


He rolled his eyes at her as they pushed the ancient iron gates open. They gave with a rusty creak.


The church stood proud and beautiful, its stone façade and white spire the tallest thing in the small town. Perched high on a hill overlooking-or, as it seemed, protecting-the homes and townspeople, it stood guarding the giant volcano Mount Etna, which towered over the church. As she stood back and admired the architecture, Angelique was awed by the fact that, despite constant eruptions and lava flow, this church had stood the test of time.


They had just reached the double doors of the church when they opened. Father Vintaldi’s grin greeted her.


“Miss Deveraux. So nice you have returned to us.”


“Buona mattina, Padre,” she said. “Come siete?”


Benissimo. Fine. Fine.” He waved his hands, motioning them all toward him. “Come inside, per favore.”


“Grazie, Padre.” Once inside the cool shade of the church foyer, she said, “These are my friends. Michael, Ryder, Dalton, Mandy, and Trace.”


Buona mattina. Any friends of Angelique’s are welcome here. Please, come in to my office. I have coffee.”


Michael cleared his throat. “Grazie, Padre, for the offer, but I’m afraid we can’t stay.”


Father Vintaldi’s face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad.” His lips lifted in a genuine smile again. “We don’t often get visitors here.”


Angelique’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry. I wish I could stay longer. I just came for the. . rock you’ve been holding on to for me.”


“Ah. Yes.” He nodded. “It’s been quite safe here.”


“No one has come inquiring after it?”


The priest turned questioning eyes toward her. “Of course not. Just you bringing it here and now showing up again to retrieve it. We get very few visitors except for the town’s parishioners. Follow me.”


Angelique slanted a smug glance at Ryder, who shrugged and followed her.


Father Vintaldi led them into the church, down the main aisle, and up to the altar. Angelique crossed herself and genuflected as they climbed the cracked marble steps and turned to the left.


“I hid it in a secret room under the altar,” he said, keeping his voice hushed. “It’s accessible through my office. Un momento, per favore.” He took out a key, unlocked the door, and stepped inside a dark room. Moments later, he returned with the bag Angelique had originally placed the black diamond in. “Here it is.”


“Thank you, Padre. I will come back and visit soon. Now we must go.”


He motioned them to a side door. They exited into the bright sunshine and down the walkway.


Once outside, Michael frowned. “We need to get moving.”


“What’s wrong?” Ryder asked.


“We need to get to the car. Now” was all Michael said.


Picking up on his sense of urgency, Angelique grasped Father Vintaldi’s hands. “Grazie, Padre. Please, go inside the church and stay in there.”


“Something evil comes?”


Si. Please, Padre, go inside. Hurry.”


“God go with you all.” Father Vintaldi made the sign of the cross with his hand, then hurried up the walk toward the side of the church. Angelique watched him open the door and step inside, then close it behind him. She refused to budge until she heard the click of the lock, wanting to be certain the old priest was safe. He had risked his life hiding the black diamond for her.


“Move, Angie.” Ryder grabbed her elbow and hurried her along the rocky path of the side road toward the SUV, already pulling his weapon. He tossed a sharp glance from one side to the other, as if he knew what he was looking for, but she didn’t see a thing.


Michael and Dalton were already at the vehicle, Mandy and Trace standing guard around it, weapons drawn. The doors were open and Angelique and Ryder were only ten feet away.


That’s when the demons materialized right in front of them, blocking them from the SUV.


Damn. And she was holding the bag with the black diamond. Why hadn’t she handed it off to Michael? Then it would have been safe.


Everything happened so fast, she didn’t have time to think. Ryder pushed her behind him and leveled his gun on the demons. She wore the special sunglasses and ear devices Ryder had given her for protection, so the sonic blast toward the demons only made her jump, didn’t hurt her ears. She took two steps back, wanting to give him room to fire.


That’s when she heard Dalton and Trace shout the warning, but it was too late.


Everything seemed to happen as if it were slow motion, like in a movie. Ryder turned around and leveled his weapon, seemingly at her. But that couldn’t be right.


Then she understood, because at the same time cold hands surrounded her. She turned her head and saw the demons, their leering faces appearing on each side of her.


She didn’t even have time to register shock. They were everywhere, all around her. So was the mist-white, yet so thick she couldn’t see through it, could no longer see Ryder. The demons, or maybe it was the mist, held her; she couldn’t move. The last thing she managed to filter through the thickening mist was more demons surrounding Ryder and the others, but then the mist swallowed her up. Dizziness overcame her and everything went black.


Isabelle sat in the old chapel, her hands clasped in her lap, nothing to occupy her mind for the past few hours except her own thoughts.


Which wasn’t a good thing at all, since her thoughts weren’t pleasant. It was bad enough she’d memorized every word of her mother’s diary. She had a very good memory, so the conversation with Michael and the other demon hunters was fresh in her mind, too.


The Queen of Darkness. One hell of a title, wasn’t it? And one she didn’t care to have attributed to her.


She’d always wanted to be famous, had craved a big archaeological find-one that would set her up for life. She would grace the cover of magazines. Hollywood would come calling. Maybe they’d even make movies about the great archaeologist and treasure hunter Isabelle Deveraux. And she’d finally make her mother proud of her.


Yeah, she’d had big dreams. But nowhere in her dreams was she going to be crowned Queen of the Demons.


The thought of it made her nauseous.


This whole place seemed ancient. Scary.


She wished Angelique was here, holding her hand, putting her arm around her. She closed her eyes, trying to find that certain something that connected her to her sister.


But it was gone. All she felt was. . emptiness.


I’m sorry, Angie. I never was a very good sister to you.


Why couldn’t things be different?


She laid her palm across her stomach, fighting the sickness that had started about a half hour ago. When she’d first come in here the old church had been drafty and cold, completely cut off from light and warmth. There were no windows in the chapel, the only light from torches along the rows of pews and on the altar.


She’d been chilled to the bone.


But now it was hot in here, and she’d started to perspire. She’d already put her hair up in a clip; could feel the dampness on the back of her neck, the beads of perspiration gathering between her breasts.


She didn’t feel well. Something was wrong.


She stretched out on the hard wood bench and curled her knees against her chest, hoping it would help quell the dizziness and nausea. The cool wood felt good against her face, but it wasn’t enough. Lying down made it worse, so she sat up again, trying to focus on the altar, hoping the colorful artifacts would distract her from her physical ailments.


Statues of the Virgin Mary, her smiling, forgiving face reaching across the chapel. The crucifix. . so ancient-was the cross actually made of a pale rose marble? It was beautiful. She’d love to get an up close look at it. She rose, holding on to the pew railings for strength as she made her way toward the front of the church.


She felt weak. The closer she got to the altar, the more her stomach tumbled. Her legs shook, pain and nausea overwhelming her. What was wrong with her?


She pushed on, forcing her legs to move, but they felt like jelly, threatening to give out from under her. She couldn’t do it, finally dropped to her knees in a cold sweat. The room spun around her and she was certain she was going to pass out.


Everything closed in. The church seemed to grow smaller, as if the walls were moving inward. Her vision had gone askew and she swiped her hand across her brow to push away the beads of perspiration dripping down her face.


When she looked up at the altar, she saw demons.


She blinked, rubbed her eyes, looked again.


Gruesome, horrible creatures made their way toward her, their arms outstretched, long claws pointed toward her as if they were coming to claim her.


No. That couldn’t be. They said she was safe here. It had to be an illusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again.


Demons. Still coming, making slow progress, but advancing with every second.


Panic soared through her body as they inched their way closer.


“Help me,” she croaked, but her voice was no more than a whisper. No one would hear her.


Pushing to her feet, forcing her legs to move, she backed away from the altar. Fear snaked its way into the quickly darkening recesses of her mind.


Get out. Get out now. Hurry. They’re coming for you.


She couldn’t breathe. Her throat constricted. She needed air. Sunlight. Away from those. . things. Their claws, fangs. . dear God, they were her worst nightmare come to life. She kept moving, walking backward, afraid to take her eyes off them.


They weren’t supposed to be in here. She had to get away.


Her heart pounded so hard she was afraid it was going to burst from her chest. Fighting to stay upright, she forced strength into her body.


Maybe it had all been a trick. Dalton, Michael, and the others had lured her in here, intending to turn her over to the Sons of Darkness, to be rid of her so they wouldn’t have to deal with her.


Angie had probably been in on it, too. She wanted a life free of having to deal with her sister. She’d read Mother’s diary, knew what Isabelle was. Angelique was no doubt horrified. Not that Isabelle could blame her. She’d been a burden to her sister her entire life.


Isabelle was all alone now.


Her head hurt. She wanted to cry.


“You can’t have me,” she growled in a low whisper, pointing at the creatures. They seemed to shimmer in the dim light of the church as they advanced ever so slowly toward her, their tall, thick bodies more menacing by the minute.


Sucking in a breath, she pushed back, step by step, determined not to fall, to make her legs move. If she stopped, they’d be on her.


She didn’t know where her strength and resolve came from, but she pulled it from deep within and turned around, running like hell for the double doors leading out of the chapel. She pushed at the heavy wood and the doors swung easily open.


“Hey!”


The guard held out his hands, his eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”


She shook her head. “Get out of my way.”


“No. No. You can’t go.”


She stopped, looked up at him, and realized then that he had turned into a demon, too, his face leering at her with those horrible, dripping fangs. He reached for her with his long claws and she pushed with a power she didn’t know she possessed.


The demon guard went flying, crashing against the far wall along the hallway. She heard his grunt as the air rushed out of his lungs. He must have hit his head, because he slumped down to the ground, his eyes closed.


Isabelle shook her head, the visions between reality and whatever was messed up in her head too jumbled. All she knew was that she couldn’t breathe, needed air.


And she was hot. So damn hot. She had to get out of here.


She rushed down the hall, toward the doors leading outside. The windows along the hallway showed no sunlight, only a strange, dark mist swirling near the windows and doors.


A cooling mist. Yes, she needed that relief against her blistering skin.


Running as if her life depended on it, knowing the demons were right on her heels, she turned the short corner and pushed open the heavy door, sucking in great gulps of moisture-tinged air as soon as she stepped outside.


She could breathe out here. As the icy mist enveloped her, she could breathe.


Cold hands touched her, surrounded her, offering relief from the fever.


“Come with us,” they said. “We’ll take care of you.”


She looked up, trying to see them, but her eyes wouldn’t focus.


“I’m so tired,” she said, then closed her eyes, falling into their arms.


Their blissfully cold arms.

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