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"The crosses don't burn?" Dahlia asked.
Nikki's head slowly rocked from side to side. "Not like I expected, but I only learned Christianity later in life. Granted, it's not something I'd want to hang onto for comfort, but..." She lifted her hand and showed it to the room. "Doesn't leave a mark."
Roarke grunted. "Ok, at least there's that. Now you wanna explain a few things, Dahlia? You sent out the word that Des Moines was free of the Inquisition, then bring one here? What the fuck?"
It seemed like Roarke had taken up the role of spokesman for the opposition. She knew he was a younger soul, from around the 1700s. He was also Irish, which explained his violent reaction to Thane's tattoo. It had meant something in his culture beyond just a generic sign of Christianity. Other than that, she knew almost nothing about him - or anyone else here. She'd been too busy mourning Mei.
"Thane sent me here," Dahlia explained. "The branch of the Church in Iowa was wiped out a couple of decades ago and hasn't tried to reform." She paused. "Let me put that another way. For centuries, I thought there was a single group unified against us, and I was wrong. The Inquisition is blending into American culture, assimilating with modern society, and growing. They'rebreeding.They aren't just recruiting more priests. Theyrequirethe first-born son - those born with the ability to use 'God's Power' - to become one."
Before she finished, the room was awash in murmurs. The Inquisition had always been a threat to run from. No one who tried to learn more ever lived to tell the story. Somehow, they'd assumed it was similar to the Knights Templar or some other secret society. What they'd never guessed was that it was a cult. Members were brought in, then used to breed the next generation. But in this case, the children inherited more than just beliefs. Their genes really did carry the power to stop the undead.
She gave them a moment to get over the shock, then raised her voice. "Listen. It seems that not everyone born with their power agrees with the beliefs. Thane doesn't. His mother didn't, and they killed her. His younger brother refused to obey and they killed him. Thane wants to get revenge, so he's willing to help us finally break them."
"How?" Cain asked. "What can one man do to stop an entire organization?"
She gestured around the room. "That's what we're going to figure out. Because of him, we know some of us can use the stakes. We know where the Churches are and how they operate. We can learn how they find us. All of that makes our lives easier. It helps us stay off their radar, but most importantly? He has a list of Words, which means we can find a way to stop them."
"There's not enough of us," someone said. She couldn't see who.
Dahlia shrugged. "Are we sure? We stay in small groups, rarely more than three. We don't check in, we have no government, no head office, no list of surviving eidolon. For thousands of years, we've all been on our own. How many of us are there? Does anyone even know?"
"Few hundred at best," Cain said. "I'm thinking four or five."
A pale woman lifted her hand, drawing their eyes. "Except more have been showing up. In the last hundred years, the number of conversions has more than tripled. We can't be sure, because so many new souls are caught while they're still confused and extinguished by the priests."
"Yeah." Dahlia let the news drop like the bomb it was. "When they become adults, the inquisitors make the new inductees stake an eidolon. Those who refuse are killed."
Roarke thrust out his hands, halting her. "Wait. How? Dozens of kids just disappear, and the police don't notice? Mundane issues still apply. There's no way they're getting around that."
"Words," Cain reminded them. "At least one wipes the mind. It's why they never have a problem with police or witnesses."
Dahlia was shaking her head. "Not all Words work on normal humans. Thane tried."
Cain leaned forward, hugging his knees. "Red coats can do it. Probably the whites, too."
"Not the British Army," Dahlia teased.
Cain chuckled. "Fair enough, but still applies. Blackrobes- better? - can't use the Words that alter human minds. Well, I've never seen it happen, at least."
"The encyclopedias," she breathed. "Thane said the Bishop had a room filled with them. How powerful do they get?"
"So we get our hands on them - and then what?" Roarke asked. "Yay, we know how they control the people around them. But what the hell do you think we're going to do, Dahlia?"
The doorknob turned, making the room fall silent. A second later, Thane thumped it open with the case of beer in his hands. A few plastic bags hung from his wrists. He looked around, then kicked it closed and headed into the tiny kitchen.
"Shoulda taken longer. Got it," he grumbled under his breath.
"No," Dahlia assured him. "We're trying to figure out a plan. How do we stop the Inquisition if there's more of you than us?"
"Them." The clank of beer dropping onto the counter worked like an exclamation point. "And you jumped too far ahead. First, we need to make sure those spikes can nullify an inquisitor's ability to speak the Words, and that means a field trip." He ripped at the cardboard package, then held up a beer to Roarke. "Unless you want to see what one of them does to me."
"Sounds good, man," Roarke said, holding up a hand.
Thane tossed him the beer. "Asshole."
Roarke chuckled. "I meant the beer, not the stake."
Dahlia waved that away. "Not risking it. Having our own little bubble-maker might be useful. More than that, the Words do work on priests like they do for us." That made the rest of the room sit up straighter. She laughed. "I guess none of you thought about that, huh? If we aren't risking discovery, it means we don't have to be quite so secretive."
