Innocent Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

agreed. “But if Erin is involved in any of this, I’m going with you.”
    Christian drew in a long breath and let it out. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and punched in numbers. “I’m sure Cardinal Bernard gave you the whole speech last time about your life and soul being in danger if you involve yourself in our affairs?”
    “He did.”
    “Then let’s save time and pretend I gave it again.” Christian lifted the phone to his ear. “Right now I must charter a plane to California.”
    “So you don’t object to me going with you?”
    “You love Erin, and you want to protect her. Who am I to stand in the way of that?”
    For a dead guy, Christian was turning out to be okay.
    Still, as the limousine sped across the snow-swept city, Jordan’s anxiety grew sharper with every passing mile.
    Erin was in danger.
    Again.
    And likely all because of the actions of Rhun Korza.
    Maybe it would be better if that bastard stayed lost.

3
    December 18, 6:06 P.M. CET
    Vatican City
     
    Cardinal Bernard rearranged the newspapers atop his polished desk, as if organizing them into neat lines might change the words they contained. Horrifying headlines screamed from the pages:
     
    Serial Killer Loose in Rome
    Gruesome Murderer Savages Young Women
    Police Stunned by Brutality
     
    Candlelight reflected off the bejeweled globe next to his desk. He turned the ancient sphere slowly, longing to be anywhere but here. He glanced at his antique books, his scrolls, his sword on the wall from the time of the Crusades—items he had collected during his centuries of service to the Church.
    I have served long , but have I served well?
    The smell of newspaper ink pulled his attention back to the pages. The details disturbed him further. Each woman had her throat sliced open, and her body drained of blood. They were all beautiful and young, with black hair and blue eyes. They came from every station in life, but they had all died in the oldest quarters of Rome, in the darkest hours between sunset and sunrise.
    Twenty in all, according to the newspapers.
    But Bernard had managed to conceal many more deaths. It amounted to a victim claimed nearly every day since the end of October.
    He could not escape the timing.
    The end of October.
    The deaths had started just after the battle waged in the crypts below St. Peter’s Basilica, a fight for possession of the Blood Gospel. The Sanguinists had won that battle against the Belial, a joint force of humans and strigoi, led by an unknown leader who continued to plague his order.
    Shortly after that battle, Father Rhun Korza had vanished.
    Where was he? What had he done?
    Bernard shied away from that thought.
    He eyed the pile of newspapers. Had a rogue strigoi escaped that battle and hunted the streets of Rome, preying on these young girls? There had been so many beasts in the tunnels. One could have slipped through their net.
    A part of him prayed that was true.
    He dared not consider the alternative. That fear kept him waiting, indecisive, as more innocent girls died.
    A hand tapped on the door. “Cardinal?”
    He recognized the voice and the sluggish heartbeat that belonged to it.
    “Come in, Father Ambrose.”
    The human priest opened the wooden door with one hand, his other clasped in a loose fist. “I am sorry to disturb you.”
    The assistant did not sound sorry. In fact, his voice rang with ill-disguised glee. While Ambrose clearly loved him and served the cardinal’s office diligently, there remained a petty streak in the man that found perverse enjoyment in the misfortunes of others.
    Bernard stifled a sigh. “Yes?”
    Ambrose entered the office. His plump body leaned forward like a hound on a scent. He glanced around the candlelit room, probably making certain that Bernard was alone. How Ambrose loved his secrets. But then again, maybe that was why the man so loved Bernard. After so many centuries, his own veins ran as much with secrets as with black blood.
    Finally satisfied, his