Page 112 of Eternal Obsession

“Go on.”

“The press will have a bloody field day!”

Ingrid backed away from the body, deep in thought.

She stopped in her tracks to answer her phone. “Alex Artimas? What are you talking about? What happened?” She stared at the screen aghast.

Ingrid stomped through the rain back toward her car.

Something had gone wrong back at the NIC.

I turned toward Salisbury, heading for Alex, predicted to reach the NIC before her. Desperate to save my brother.

Only, I made it as far as the tree line. Unseen and unheard, they descended upon me, my capture fast and violent. A black hood was shoved over my head, rendering me incapable of fighting back. Through muffled screams, I yelled for Alex.

Chapter Forty-Six

ORPHEUS

The magnificent Salisbury Cathedral tower loomed crookedly in the sky. An entourage entered via the front, unlocked as it always was, guarded at night by one lone vampire. They dragged Jadeon to the rear of the church and down to the lower catacombs.

Once inside the dark secret chamber, they removed his hood.

Within these Gothic walls, candlelight flickered on ancient stone, echoing the quiet rhythm of centuries-old worship. We could enter this place just not touch anything holy; I’d reminded them of that.

I’d be okay—the younger vampires, not so much.

They removed the hood over our captive.

Jadeon looked around finding the place familiar. A sharp sting of realization pierced through him that this was his first refuge, his cradle of vampirism. That weathered stone tomb of an illegitimate cousin of King Henry II the same one he’d leaned up against and sobbed that first night I had turned him.

A divine memory.

Jadeon’s face pained as he recognized more about the chamber.

I stepped toward him. “You hid here after I transformed you.”

“You have to let me go.”

“Déjà vu, Jadeon,” I said and checked my watch.

“Orpheus, Alex is in trouble. I have to get to him. You must listen.”

“Ah, I doubt even I could make such a flight now.”

He struggled frantically. “I promised him . . .”

“You have murdered him.”

“No!”

My men held him. He struggled, as only a brother could when freedom meant forsaking his own blood. Panicked and distraught, he fought with staggering strength, but they overwhelmed him.

They threw him to the ground.

“I share your pain,” I said.

“No. Not this time, not this way.”