Sin and Sacrifice Read online

  Evelyn didn't consider herself a tourist just because she was on vacation here. This part of the world had been home for longer than it hadn't. In their much younger years, she and her sisters had traveled Europe extensively. Back then, there had been quite a few more siblings than there were now. A thought she turned her mind from lest it make her melancholy.

  Alexandra, who always wore a watch wherever she went, checked the time when they ordered their second round. “Maybe you should call Galiana again. It's been like an hour and a half.”

  “She'll be here. You know how she is,” Evelyn said.

  “Well, yeah. But she's gonna miss the whole night.” Alexandra shook her hand so that the timepiece rolled down to cover the two small pinpricks on the inside of her wrist. Before watches had existed, Alexandra used a bracelet or band to hide the anomaly.

  All of the sisters bore the same mark. To a casual observer, it resembled a snakebite. Evelyn kept hers obscured by a trio of thin, dangling bracelets. Only a keen eye would detect the black dots just below the heel of her hand. In this modern age, with so many millions of people on the earth, Evelyn wasn't quite as paranoid about someone seeing them as she used to be.

  Another hour went by. Evelyn gave in and danced with a man who'd come back three times to ask. He was at least four inches shorter than her, on the thin side, with glasses that slid down his nose every three minutes or so. He had a kind smile and boogied with enthusiastic swings of his arms and dramatic pauses that made her want to laugh. She didn't in case she was supposed to find his jerky gyrating sexy instead of funny.

  Back at the tall table after gently declining to give him her number, she indulged in another drink with her sisters. The easy mood and buzz from the alcohol made time go by quicker, especially when a few men joined them, hitting on the girls with blatant stares and boyish grins. The harmless fun ended when a sudden announcement for last call came over the speakers between songs.

  Frowning, Alexandra glanced at her watch. “What the heck. It's one o'clock. Did anyone get a text from Galiana?”

  The men wandered away when they realized none of the girls were going home with them. Evelyn dug her cell out of the pocket of her skirt. No messages.

  Genevieve and Minna had none, either.

  “Maybe she got back too late and fell asleep at the hotel,” Minna suggested.

  “I'll go call her.” Evelyn worked her way through the crowd toward the restrooms. Decorated like the rest of the club, with pale blue walls and tiny lights hanging from the ceiling, the women's room boasted a separate vanity area that made it convenient to talk. The three other ladies present were all washing their hands and giggling drunkenly.

  Evelyn found a quiet corner and dialed. Galiana's voice mail came on.

  “Galiana, where are you? We've been waiting all night. I know you can't still be shopping. Either way, we'll be leaving for the hotel soon. A text would have been nice.” Scolding her wayward sister, Evelyn hung up. Galiana, notorious for neglecting to keep in touch like she should, left her sisters in a lurch more often than not. She was easily distracted from things like checking in.

  When Evelyn got back to the table and announced the news, Alexandra rolled her eyes.

  “She's takin' this shopping thing to a whole new level. You guys ready to go? They're closing in an hour anyway.”

  One by one, the girls filed out into the balmy night. Evelyn had just enough to drink to make her tipsy but not drunk; one glance at her sisters told her that none of them had imbibed enough to make them sloppy and careless. She couldn't remember the last time the five of them had been blitzed in public. Caution ruled the day when it came to losing ones faculties outside the safety of home.

  The concrete sidewalk led them past trimmed hedges and fountains carved in the shape of mythical Gods. Poseidon held his trident proud and tall next to Athena, while Zeus sat sprawled in a throne. No expense had been spared at the Andromeda Chamber.

  Although Alexandra had called them a cab when she'd been in the bathroom, a brief survey of the parking lot to the side of the club showed the taxi hadn't arrived yet. Overhead, the inky sky above Athens glittered with a million stars and Evelyn whimsically tipped her face up to pick the constellations out. Genevieve, Minna and Alex loitered just behind her.

  “I want to visit The First Cemetery tomorrow--” Alexandra's comment was cut off by a muffled scream.

  Evelyn quit stargazing to snap a look around in confusion. The parking lot, while full of cars, seemed empty of people except them. Whoever hadn't already left the club probably wouldn't leave until it closed its doors in an hour. When she glanced at her sister's faces, she saw the same confusion there.

  “Is that someone drunk and laughing?” Evelyn asked. Sometimes it was hard to tell one from the other when someone had that much to drink.

  “I don't know. Sounded like they were scared. Kinda,” Alex said.

  From around the far corner of the building, where the shadows were thicker, they heard it again. A scream, faint but fearful.

  Genevieve frowned and only waited a moment before she started walking with determined strides for the back lot. Evelyn followed behind Alex and Minna, the latter of which had some serious kick ass abilities. If some drunk was pawing at a girl, Minna would be able to handle it with no problem. Her expertise in martial arts was impressive. Alex and Gen, while not experts in those arts, were still not to be trifled with. They had thousands of years to hone their skills and motivation in spades.

  Evelyn didn't particularly like confrontation and liked weapons even less. She didn't hesitate to provide whatever aid she could though, even if it just ended up being a shoulder to cry on or assistance in calling the woman another cab.

  Passing several cars and a gray van with heavily tinted windows, she rounded the corner on Alex's heels. A halo of illumination provided a cameo for the scene of horror that confronted them; the blade of a long, gleaming sword tacked Galiana to the wooden fence surrounding a dumpster. Pierced straight through the chest, feet suspended several inches off the ground, her body twitched through the last throes of life.

  Evelyn processed what she saw in strange, strobe like glimpses; Galiana's chin sunk low, blood dripping off a pinky onto the ground, one shoe missing. The pale cloud of blonde hair, streaked with red, looked like someone had intentionally mussed and tangled it.

  Shock severed Evelyn's ability to react as fast as Minna did. The diminutive woman rushed forward with Genevieve directly behind her and gave the sword a yank.

  It didn't budge.

  The entire situation seemed to take on an underwater quality for Evelyn, the noises of the night oddly distorted, the image of her dying sister flashing like still shots on a macabre slide show. Panting, she pressed a palm over her forehead. She couldn't think. Violence had always been her ultimate weakness. Face to face with it, she tended to freeze and her mind went blank. The irony was that she was a better shot with a gun than any of her sisters, able to consecutively hit her mark on a non-live target with eerie accuracy. Put into a real world situation, she couldn't hit the broad side of an elephant with a shotgun from twenty paces.

  Alex understood her distress and pushed her the opposite direction of the gruesome scene.

  “Go call for help,” Alex ordered, before rushing in to try and help Minna and Genevieve remove the sword from Galiana's chest.

  The detailed hilt swam through Evelyn's vision while she tried to make her feet move. She knew that hilt. Had seen it before. Thick and heavy, with ornate carvings in gold on the edges. A Templar's sword.

  Could it be anything else?

  Behind her, the door to the gray van opened with a bang. The sound ricocheted through the parking lot. Evelyn whipped a startled look behind her in time to see five men pour out from inside.

  Another barreled around the end of the dumpster, running full tilt. Steel glimmered under the moonlight from the sword he carried in his hand.

  Evelyn screamed and dropped her purse, leaving her
hands free to grapple with the hulking man in black who reached her first. Teeth and fists clenched, she swallowed down the bile that rose in the back of her throat and battered him with impotent blows against the head and chest. He felt like a brick wall.

  Immovable. Indestructible. Just as Templar Knights were supposed to be.

  Genevieve confronted two of the attackers while another two darted around them for Alexandra and Minna. A sickening crack split the night when Genevieve kicked the side of one man's knee, forcing him to the ground with a howl of pain. The other attacker drew a sword with a hiss of steel and pointed the tip right at Genevieve's neck, effectively stopping her assault in its tracks.

  It was the last thing Evelyn saw before something dark got yanked over her head, blinding her. She fought harder and sucked in another breath to scream. The chop of someone's hand against her throat stopped it cold. She choked and gagged, tears streaming from her eyes at the pain.

  “Keep your mouth closed, or I'll close it for you. Permanently,” a voice ground out near her ear.

  He sounded vicious and cold as death.

  Kicking wildly, she flailed, weakened by the vicious strike. Through the thick material of the hood, she heard Minna and Alex fighting for their lives. The men had the advantage in numbers and weapons.

  Templars and their battle prowess with swords was legendary.

  Hustled forward, she banged her knee against the metal of the van when the man tried to shoved her in. Hands wrenched behind her back, it was her chin that took the brunt of the fall. Impatient, he bodily lifted and tossed her inside, swarming in over her to secure her hands with plastic wrist cuffs.

  Gasping and wheezing, feeling like her windpipe had been crushed, she struggled and tried to kick him. He felt like a giant anvil, pressing her down.

  “Go, get out of here,” the man said to the driver. The van door cracked closed, shutting out any sounds of a struggle. The vehicle lurched into motion, tearing through the parking lot and out into the streets.

  Her cheek banged against the hard floor and she whimpered past the excruciating fire in her throat.

  She wondered if she and her sisters would share Galiana's fate. After years of evasion, their nightmare had finally caught up to them again. Evelyn was surprised the Templars hadn't tried to kill her already. Of course they wouldn't though. Not until they had a chance to interrogate her.

  Evelyn knew what they wanted. Besides her death, she knew what they sought. The same thing they had probably tried, and failed, to glean from her sister. Grief over the loss of her beloved sibling overwhelmed her. Sweet Galiana, gone.

  The van sped through the city, taking so many sharp turns that Evelyn lost count. She couldn't tell what direction they were headed in. Couldn't speak. Couldn't even scream. Had no way to fight the bastards back. She wondered if her sisters were being summarily captured and driven to different locations or if some of them had been slaughtered where they stood.

  Unthinkable.

  Ten minutes later, at least by her warped estimation, the van came to a stop. Drug from the hard metal floor by her arms, she staggered onto the pavement, blind, mentally protesting the rough handling of her captor. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost a shoe. She staggered beside the Knight with a strange, hitching gait. Like a bug with a leg torn off. Dragging, scrambling, shuddering from one place to the next. He moved too fast for her to easily keep up.

  A door creaked open and closed behind them. Footsteps, three pair besides her own, followed in their wake. They traded gruff whispers that she couldn't make out. Another door, a set of stairs leading down. Treacherous and steep, she pitched forward several times, saved by the grueling wrench of the man's hand on her elbow.

  At the bottom, she sensed they were in a corridor below ground; their steps echoed off the walls and it was colder here than it had been outside. A confusing maze of twists ended when he pushed her across the threshold into a room. Fear took hold and she wrenched against his grip with a violent yank, using the foot with a stiletto still on to try and punch a hole through his shin.

  Her scream got cut off when a sharp blow to her head made the whole world go black.

  Chapter Two

  The rough material of her hood made it impossible to see when she surfaced from oblivion and tried to open her eyes. Abrasive and scratchy, the cloth made the skin of her cheeks and neck itch. There was an odd smell every time she breathed.

  Old, stale. A little like smoke.

  Slumped on a hard metal chair, she inched her posture into a straighter line. As the cobwebs started to clear, she realized her hands were still bound at the wrist and resting in her lap. The tingling in her feet felt like a thousand ants swarming over her skin. Through her toes, around the bones of her ankles. There didn't appear to be any rope securing her legs.

  Silence, the kind found in crypts and graveyards, surrounded her. The oppressive weight of thick stone walls and a heavy ceiling felt cloying and confining. Enclosed spaces and Evelyn had never been good companions.

  She wasn't sure how long she'd been out, or where her captors were. Her throat felt like it was packed with slivers of glass. Every time she swallowed it brought tears to her eyes. A throbbing pain made itself known on the back of her head. Pieces of memory came back one at a time, linked together in a haphazard string.

  The club. Her sisters. Galiana.

  Galiana. A small, choked sound of grief bubbled from dry lips.

  “She's awake. Bring him in.”

  Startled by a gruff, deep voice, she stilled.

  “Who's there?” Evelyn wanted to weep at the pain speaking caused.

  A door, the hinges creaking and squeaking, opened. Footsteps led away, receding into the distance.

  “Hello?” She tried again, testing the binds on her wrists. The plastic had been replaced by rope. It didn't give an inch.

  She received no answer.

  “I demand to know why I'm being held.” To her own ears, she sounded less forceful than she'd intended. Of all the survival instincts kicking in the hardest, denial of who and what she was lurked at the top of the list. If she feigned ignorance, insisted she was only a normal, mortal woman that they'd mistakenly kidnapped, maybe they would eventually let her go.

  Still no answer.

  The door opened again and two sets of footsteps returned. Sensing someone approach, she recoiled, drawing her head and shoulders back. A suffocating, cloistered feeling made the hair on her nape stand on end. Whoever it was stood right in front of her. Looming.

  “It has taken us a very long time to find you. Unfortunately, we had to kill your sister. The annoying little blonde. I hope her example inspires you to be more cooperative than she was,” he said.

  Evelyn couldn't place the voice. Male, deep and smooth with a hint of Italian accent. She tried not to have any outward reaction to the baiting he did with Galiana.

  “I don't know what you're talking about. I have no sisters.” Years of effortless lies made her reply sound sincere.

  “Come now. We know what you are. We know who she was,” he said with a cajoling lilt. A feverish, fanatical quality tempered the way he presented his information.

  “What I am?” She injected confusion into her own question to make him think she didn't understand.

  Unprepared for the blow to her cheek, she cried out, head snapping to the side. Blood filled her mouth and trickled down her chin under the hood. For a few terrifying moments, she feared she would choke on her own blood. Her throat felt that swollen.

  “How many of you are left?” he asked.

  Evelyn coughed, fighting through a stunned haze to concentrate. “I don't have any sisters,” she repeated, bracing for another blow. Her back stiffened and her shoulders grew taut.

  “Really. Then who were the women with you outside the club? The ones who fought back and escaped?”

  When he didn't immediately strike her, she eased in her seat. Not for a second did she think the danger was past. She hid her relief to know t
hat her sisters escaped. “Just friends.”

  “Friends who all bear the mark of the serpent?” With a quick, harsh yank, he snared her hands and lifted them like she might be able to see the small, black dots on the inside of her left wrist.

  The mark of the serpent. It was the first time she'd ever heard them refer to the marks like that. Evelyn wondered if the Templars knew what it meant.

  “That's an...old wound.” Denial felt like the only advantage she had at the moment, if she could even consider it an advantage.

  “An old wound that happens to be the same one the blonde had on the inside of her wrist. Do not lie to me!” He grabbed the back of the hood along with a fistful of hair and yanked her head back.

  She yelped in surprise. Evelyn wanted to shrink away from his obvious hatred. This time, when he spoke, she could smell his breath through the cloth. An odd mix of liquor and mint.

  “It is a mark of evil, and you, like the rest of your sisters, will be eradicated from the face of the earth.”

  “A mark of evil?” She didn't know what else to say except to echo him.

  “From the serpent in the Garden of Eden. What a clever way for satan to spread the disease of corruption through millennium. One bite and you're tainted forever, blessed with immortality to do his bidding and cast the seed of evil far and wide. Clever, but not clever enough.”

  With righteous fervor, the Templar answered questions that had plagued Evelyn and her sisters for thousands of years. The 'snakebite' had been completely misconstrued and misunderstood by the Knights, used as a catalyst for the daughters own destruction, all probably under the assumption that the Templars would be saving the world. If she looked at the situation obliquely, she could almost see how they had come to their wrong conclusion. Unbeknownst to the Knights, their conjecture couldn't be further from the truth.