Blood Infernal: The Order of the Sanguines Series Read Online Free PDF

this new addition.
    Damn you, Bernard .
    The cardinal must have posted a guard after their earlier heated conversation, suspecting she might attempt to sneak below on her own.
    She searched for a solution—and discovered it within the grasp of a girl a few steps away. The child appeared to be eight or nine, bored, dragging her feet across the ornate marble tiles. She rolled a bright green tennis ball between her palms. Her parents ambled several yards ahead of her, talking animatedly.
    Moving quickly, Erin fell into step with the girl. “Hello.”
    The girl glanced up, her blue eyes narrowing in suspicion. Freckles ran across her nose, and her red hair was braided in two pigtails.
    “Hello,” the girl said reluctantly in English, as if she knew that she had to answer nuns.
    “Could I borrow your ball?”
    The girl pulled the tennis ball protectively behind her back.
    Okay, new tactic .
    Erin lifted a hand, revealing a five-euro note in her fingers. “Then maybe I could buy it?”
    The child’s eyes widened, staring hard at the temptation—then thrust the fuzzy ball toward her, making the trade, while surreptitiously staring at her parents’ backs.
    With the deal done, Erin waited until the child had moved off, joining her mother and father. She then tossed the ball underhand in a long arc across the nave toward a tight knot of people several yards past from the posted guardsman. The ball pegged a short man in a gray overcoat on the back of the head.
    He yelled sharply, cursing in Italian, causing a commotion that echoed through the vast space. As she had hoped, the Swiss Guardsman moved off to investigate.
    Erin used the distraction to hurry forward and fit the key Christian had given her into the door lock. At least the hinges proved to be well oiled as she pulled the way open. Once through, she closed the door behind her and locked it by feel, her heart hammering.
    She placed her palm against the door, worry rising inside her. How am I going to get back out without being caught?
    But she knew it was too late for second-guessing.
    Only one path lay open to her.
    She clicked on her flashlight and took stock of her surroundings. A long tunnel stretched in front of her. The rounded ceiling looked about nine feet tall, and the walls curved in. Next to the door a dusty oak table held beeswax candles and matches. She took a few of each but didn’t light them. They’d be good backups to have in case the battery failed in her flashlight.
    She pulled the map out of her pocket. On the back, Christian had drawn a schematic of the tunnels that led down to the Sanctuary itself. Knowing there was no turning back, she gathered her heavy skirt in one hand and set off. She had at least a mile to cover before she reached the Sanctuary gate.
    Her light bounced up and down as she hurried, its narrow beam moving ahead of her, revealing mouths of secondary tunnels. She counted them under her breath.
    One wrong turn, and I could be lost down in this maze for days .
    The fear made her move faster as she descended narrow staircases and traversed the maze of tunnels. The tiny vial of Christian’s blood bumped against her thigh, reminding her that the price for knowledge was sometimes blood. It was a message that had been drilled into her as a child, made acutely real when her father discovered a book hidden under her mattress. Her father’s rough voice echoed in her ears, drawing her into the past.
    “What happened to Eve when she ate from the tree of knowledge?” her father asked, towering over the nine-year-old version of herself, his powerful farmer’s hands clenched into threatening fists at his sides.
    She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer his question and decided to stay silent. He was always angrier over things she said than when she kept her mouth shut.
    The book— The Farmer’s Almanac —lay open on the well-swept floorboards, lamplight shining on its creamy pages. Until today, she’d only ever read the Bible,