Page 51 of Samhain Savior
Vine looked like he’d just stepped off stage at a rock concert, with ripped black jeans, a band shirt, and checkered Vans. He wore no jacket, even with the temperature having dropped significantly in the last few hours. With Percy beside him in her pretty dress, they looked like a couple, nearly photo ready—even with her red-rimmed eyes and splotchy cheeks, she was still stunningly beautiful.
Trudging along behind Archer who had oh, so thoughtfully attached the stupid leash to my collar again, I tugged at the joke of a dress that Percy had loaned me, while glaring daggers at Archer’s back.
How could he have done that? Order the murder of his friend in cold blood? In the days I’d spent with Archer and the guys, I had thought that I might have seen something in them, a different side to them that went against all the things I had been taught about demons.
But in the end, they’d gone and proved every single story about them right.
They were killers, evil and cruel.
I’d been a fool for hoping otherwise.
My anger and revulsion at what I’d just seen caused that warm buzzing sensation to build inside my chest again, and I cringed.
I could feel it, that spark ofsomethingthat had appeared within me over the last few days. It had exploded likea firework when Archer had kissed me, and while I was trying my very bestnotto think about the kiss, the glow of curiosity wouldn’t let me ignore what I knew was the magic I’d always longed to find within myself.
It galled, knowing that I’d worked foryearswith Heidi, trying every possible technique and incantation in an attempt to manifest my magic, and yet, one stolen kiss from a demon and suddenly my inner power sat up and started paying attention.
How annoying.
My contemplation of life’s biggest mysteries came to an end as Archer led us through the front door of the small brick building that was Old North Church, roughly shoving aside a couple in matching t-shirts taking their own photo with a selfie stick.
I muttered an apology for his brash behavior as he pulled me behind him, the couple making outraged squawking noises in our direction before getting on with their vacation.
Neither of them noticed the shadow leash, and I shook my head.
Had people always been so oblivious?
Standing in the narrow entryway, I stared around as the others muttered amongst themselves, looking with little interest at the framed photos of the history of the churchand its construction. There were lists of names, architects who had worked on the building, including a man named Shem who had designed the giant gold weathervane that sat atop the steeple. Apparently, he was a big deal. They’d even laid him to rest in the nearby cemetery, one of the photos depicting a snapshot of his headstone, lilting at an odd angle in the grass over at Copp’s Hill Burying Ground.
My quiet inspection of the images was brought to an abrupt halt when Archer roughly tugged the leash, once again pulling me to his side. I narrowed my eyes at him, but said nothing.
I did, however, add the moment to the growing list of reasons I wanted to throttle the fucking demon.
The others were all huddled around Persephone, Vine rubbing her arm in an attempt to soothe her into talking.
“Which way, Percy?” Vine whispered gently, trying to catch her eye as she stared despondently into space. “Where did your uncle hide it?” I had to admit, even with how poorly the woman had treated me, I did feel bad for her. She’d obviously cared for her uncle a great deal, and I once again cursed Archer for his duplicitous deal.
“There.” The word was quiet in the noisy building, but she pointed, directing us up a set of stairs. When we reached the top we found ourselves in a small room filledwith cleaning supplies, and Vine once again pressed her for direction. Corson and Mal stood guard over the entrance to the room as Archer huffed impatiently, waiting on Percy to gather herself enough to speak. It took several minutes, but eventually, Archer and Vine were able to get some sort of direction and a small brass key from her before guiding her to sit in a threadbare office chair stuffed in a corner. She collapsed into it, her muscles simply refusing to go any further.
Using the key, Vine opened the door, darting his head into the narrow, darkened stairway, taking a few moments to look around before backing out and nodding to Archer.
“Come, witch.” His words were accompanied by a firm tug on the leash, and I yelped as he pulled me toward the steep stairs.
“Slow down,” I panted, the long hem on the too-big dress tripping me up as I tried to keep pace with him. The stairway was old, the wooden treads worn where thousands of feet had made the climb before us, and the cloying smell of dust and forgotten places tickled my nose.
“The Order could be here any moment. I have no time for you or your whining,” he growled, but his steps slowed as he set a more reasonable pace. As we climbed, I couldn’t shake the sensation that we were headed in the right direction. My magic had always been elusive, like a dream onlyhalf remembered, but lately, it was starting to form into something I could almost understand.
Right now, there was a feeling in my chest telling me that we were close to our goal, and I found myself grinning as we hiked up the steeple, anticipation of completing the hunt zinging through my blood.
Reaching the first landing of the stairs, we found ourselves in the bell-ringing chamber, the ropes hanging in large loops through holes in the ceiling, waiting for someone to bring the bells to life. A second door led to even more stairs, then we climbed a ladder, the trap door at the top opening into yet another chamber, this one filled with the church bells themselves. I’d never seen actual church bells before, and they were so much larger than I had ever imagined. Leaning over the railing, I stared down at the bells, their wooden frames and wheels quiet now that the service was over.
“I heard those bells the very first time they were rung,” Archer murmured, his voice close to my ear. Startled, I sucked in a breath, his tobacco and sulfur scent causing a fluttering sensation in my stomach which I refused to acknowledge. “They sat idle and unused for more than five years, waiting for the right bellringer to make them sing. And when they finally did, it was a chorus to rival the host itself.” I turned my head, finding his gaze on thebells below us, the soft look in his dark eyes one I hadn’t seen from him before, and it only increased my confusion about the man. “This steeple—and the boy who rang those bells—changed the course of history.” Looking up, reached out, placing his fingers reverently against the bronze bell closest to him. For a moment he said nothing, then straightened, shaking his head, and sighed, “I fear a great change has come again.”
With that, he continued our trek upward, though his urgency seemed to have passed, replaced with a sort of reverence for the church, the steeple, and the history it represented. Up and up we climbed, and I was sweating beneath my hideous dress by the time we ascended to the final landing, the top section of the church steeple open on all four sides with big windows, the afternoon sun pouring through.
I stared around the small space, realizing that there weren’t many places to hide something, the walls being mostly framing boards and glass. Through the windows I could see all the way to the harbor, but other than that, the space was empty. Nothing but dust and a collection of dead flies piled up along the windowsills.
In my chest, annoyance bubbled. Leave it to Persephone to let an important place like this fall into ruin. Anendless eternity of immortality laid out before her, and she couldn’t even find the time to vacuum?
