“I don’t know, Professor,” Simon said with effort.
“If it’s true, that might make these buildings more in the demons’ purviewthan the human races.”
Only a few moments later, Simon was gratefully brought to a halt at the outer perimeter entrance across the moat. It had been drained years ago, as Macomber had mentioned, and now remained totally dry. But broken bodies and refuse filled the moat. Evidently the demons had taken to using the area as a dumping groundfor carcasses of their victims.
“It appears your friends are running late,” Booth said irritably.
Silently, Simon hoped they didn’t come. He didn’t know if Booth would killhim in frustration or not, but it would be better to die than to be the reason his friends died.
The stench of the Burn was heavy on the air. So was the thick, sweet scent of old death. In the distance, demons heeled over in the sky. So far none of them had taken interest in them.
But it surely wouldn’t take much time.
When Warren stepped through the rift Merihim had created, he found himself on a tower. It took him a moment to recognize where he was and realize that he was on the Middle Tower on the Tower of London where it overlooked the outer perimeter entrance.
A group of Templar stood on the wrought-iron railed bridge that crossed the moat. They appeared to be waiting for something.
Merihim stood at Warren’s side. The demon tilted his head back and scentedthe air.
Reaching into his shoulder bag, Warren freed one of the Blood Angel eyes under his control and sent it aloft. When he closed his eyes, he could see through the charmed eyeball.
“Go carefully here,” the voice told him. “You’re on very dangerous groundthis morning.”
Warren already knew that. But he also felt the power lurking in the nearby graveyards. All manner of poverty-stricken prisoners had been buried in those graves, but a few of them contained members of royalty as well.
It was an army lying in wait for him and his skills. He concentrated on the arcane forces and got it ready. At a word and no more than a moment or two, he would be able to raise them. Fouryears ago, perhaps even only four days ago, such a thing would have been even harder.
The power within him was growing. He flexed the demon hand, knowing that much of the dark magic he’d been using was concentrated in it.
“But you’re growing from within as well,” the voice told him. “You can sensethat as well.”
Warren was and he could sense that. “Will I ever know who you are?” he asked.
“Soon,” the voice promised. “Very soon now.”
Warren was surprised that Merihim still wasn’t aware of the voice inside hishead. There didn’t seem like there would be room enough for them both in there.
“I’ve protected myself from him,” the voice said. “Just as I’ve protectedyour thoughts from him.”
Thinking about that made Warren realize that whoever the voice belonged to was much more powerful than Merihim.
“Once,” the voice said, “but not yet again. Soon, hopefully. I need to befree. You would have your vengeance against the Templar that took your hand, and I would have my vengeance against the one that bound me.”
Look, Merihim said. He pointed one razor-tipped claw at another group of Templar who were approaching from the other end of the bridge across the moat.
“Where’s Fulaghar?” Warren asked.
Merihim scented the air again. Nearby. We’ll see him soon.
Warren watched the two groups of Templar. One of themthe one with his helmetopenlooked familiar. When he nudged the Blood Angel’s eye closer and lookeddown, he saw that it was Simon Cross. Anger boiled up inside him.
I see him too, Merihim said. And I would have my pound of flesh from him as well after what he did to me four years ago.
Back then Merihim had learned about the train the Templar had used to get so many of London’s survivors out of the city. The demon had intended to sacrificethe lives aboard it for his own reasons. Simon Cross had grievously wounded him. Warren had been surprised that Merihim hadn’t tracked the Templar down andkilled him for that alone.
But he hadn’t.
“The Templar is one to be watched,” the voice said. “He’s going to beextremely powerful soon.”
Simon Cross didn’t look so powerful now, Warren thought as he stared at theman with his hands shackled behind his back.
FORTY-SEVEN
Leah watched from hiding down in the moat as Nathan and Danielle crossed the bridge to meet with Booth and his group of Templar. Her suit’s camouflageability blended her in with dried mud, dead vegetation, and refuse that lined the moat.
It also protected her in this instance from Booth’s Templar. And that let herknow that the programming she’d altered in her suit was working as it wassupposed to.
Now if only the rest of it worked.
She brought up the application on her HUD and tried the communications channel. “Nathan. Danielle. I’m in place.”
“Affirmative,” Nathan replied. Neither he nor Danielle broke stride as theywalked over to meet Booth. In addition, the High Seat and the Templar that followed him didn’t register the communications either.
“Werfham,” Leah called.
“Yes,” the old Templar responded.
“You should be shielded too.”
“Understood,” Wertham said. “We’ll begin moving in.”
Now for the really scary one, Leah thought. She tuned in the comm channel on Simon’s armor and whispered, “Simon. This is Leah. Can you hear me?”
*
When Simon heard Leah’s voice in his ears, with his helmet open, he couldn’tbelieve it. He glanced at the Templar beside him to see if they’d heard it too.With her voice in the open like that, their suits’ audio receptors should havepicked it up if their comms didn’t.
“Don’t act suspicious,” Leah said. “Don’t look around.”
Simon focused his attention on Booth. The High Seat would be the key. Beyond Booth, Danielle and Nathan walked along the moat bridge.
“Booth and his Templar can’t hear me,” Leah said. “I’ve jammed their
