The Blood Gospel

he watched the frantic thrum of her heartbeat in her throat, heard the gasp of her breath. Their group could not last much longer.

Erin twirled before him, struggling with another icarops that clung to her back, clawing its way toward her neck.

Her flashlight jerked as she struggled, illuminating curtains of bats overhead.

Thousands.

He grabbed her, threw her across his back, and shouldered her through the dark doorway, where Emmanuel was fighting with his blade. At his side, Nadia danced amid a shimmer of whirling silver death.

“Get the soldier inside!” Rhun yelled to his sister of the cloth.

He dropped Erin roughly, deliberately, onto her back, crushing the icarops with a sharp squeal and a wash of blood. The soldier skidded across the floor next, protected by his own leathers. He rolled to bash a bat from his shoulder with his flashlight, then finished with a sharp blow of the butt of his gun.

A reverberating crash behind Rhun shook the air, telling him that Nadia had slammed the door. Emmanuel leaned his back against it. The room was square, small, but secure for the moment. An open archway at the rear of the room led into yet another chamber, but Rhun heard no heartbeats, no movement. The air smelled dead and still, tainted by old guano.

They should be safe for a few moments.

Nadia finished clearing the smattering of bats that had made it into the room with them.

The wooden door muffled the squealing of the bats outside, but claws continued to scrabble and teeth to gnaw as the horde fought to reach them.

Rhun understood that desire. Erin’s heartbeat continued fast but strong. Next to her the soldier’s heart still raced. The fragrance of blood wafting from her and the soldier threatened to overpower him.

He took a step back, away from the bleeding pair.

Erin stood and stumbled to Jordan’s side. “Are you hurt?”

He still sat on the ground. “Just my pride,” he said. “Give it a minute.”

“Did the Belial do this?” Erin turned toward Rhun, bringing with her another drift of blood scent.

He swallowed and retreated another step.

Nadia answered, wiping her chain across her thigh before securing it back around her waist like a belt. “It would take years to make that many blasphemare. It was not those who hunted you in Masada who made these creatures.”

Rhun nudged a dead bat with his toe. “She is right. Some of these icarops are decades old.”

“So we are not alone down here.” Emmanuel’s deep voice overrode theirs. “One or more strigoi are using this structure as a nest.”

“More good news,” Jordan said, fingering his scalp. “But these bat bites won’t turn us into strigoi, right?”

Erin aimed her light at him. Fresh blood streamed from his hands and temple. Slashes marked the top of her body, too.

Rhun flinched, having to look away from the gleaming red blood. He spoke to the wall. “No. To become a strigoi, you must be drained by one, then drink his blood. Or her blood. You are safe from that fate.”

Nadia reached a hand down and hauled the sergeant to his feet, seeming to sense that Rhun did not dare get any closer to him. “Are your wounds serious, Sergeant?”

Jordan directed his light at the cut on his hand. “Nothing I can’t fix with a big enough Band-Aid. How about you, Erin? You okay?”

“Mostly.” She wiped the back of her hand on her jeans. “But why didn’t the bats attack you three?”

“An intriguing question.” Emmanuel’s body rocked forward as bats thumped and squealed against the door. “It might be your heartbeats. Or perhaps they have been trained to attack humans.”

Jordan winced. “Trained attack bats?”

“Did you prefer the wolf?” Erin pulled his miniature first-aid kit out of his pocket.

“A little,” he said. “Yes.”

Rhun’s head was swimming with the scent of their blood. He stepped back toward the door.

“Your wine,” Nadia reminded him.

He reached to his thigh, freed his wineskin, and took a quick sip, enough to steady him, but hopefully not enough to trigger a penance. Christ’s blood burned down his throat, the warmth spreading through him—but thankfully no memories came.

“Hold out your hand,” Erin said to Jordan. “Let me see.”

The soldier pointed his flashlight at the wound on his thumb. “I think the teeth missed all the important parts. Stings like the devil, though.”

“They are the devil’s work,” Emmanuel said, still crouched at the door. He fingered his rosary and began to pray.

Nadia flattened her back against the wall, her eyes fixed on the bats on the floor, also doing her best to ignore the small drops of fresh blood striking the concrete, as loud as raindrops on a tin roof.

Here was why humans could not be included in Sanguinist expeditions. Rhun fought down his anger, much of it directed at Bernard for forcing this pair upon them. The Cardinal did not understand life in the field.

“Did you have a recent tetanus shot?” Erin whispered.

“Sure, but not rabies.”

“They’re not rabid,” Nadia said, not looking up.

Erin finished bandaging his thumb. “Luckily, it’s your left hand.”

“The expendable one?” The soldier grinned at her. “What about that gash at my hairline?”

“Put your head down.” She examined it and concluded her assessment. “Bloody, but not deep.”

Rhun tried not to notice how gently she wiped the scalp wound clean or how lightly her hands closed it with butterfly bandages. Every motion made it obvious that she cared for the soldier.

“Now your turn,” the soldier said once she was done. He switched places with her, taking up the first-aid kit. “Let me look at you.”

Jordan’s bandaged hand slid along Erin’s face and scalp, quickening her pulse.

She retreated and lifted her arm between them. “They only bit my hand.”

With a nod, Jordan quickly wrapped her injury.

“If you two are quite finished … ,” Emmanuel said, irritated. “Shall we discuss our next move?”

Behind him, claws continued to dig at the door.

The bats were almost through.

5:54 A.M.

As Jordan watched, a fist-size section of the door splintered and gave way. Through the opening, a scabrous head pushed into view, screeching, ears unfolding, teeth gnashing.

Emmanuel slashed out with his short sword, and the bat’s head rolled to the floor.

Jordan helped Erin to her feet and backed away as another bat stuck its head through the hole.

“Bastard chewed through the door,” he said. “That’s dedication.”

Rhun nodded toward the shadowy rear of their space. “There is an open archway back there. Seek shelter in the next room.”

Jordan pointed his light, noting the dark doorway for the first time. The archway led who knew where, but at least bats weren’t coming through it. And if Rhun sensed nothing of menace back there, that was good enough for him.

“Make haste.” Emmanuel spoke through gritted teeth as more of the door began to disintegrate, torn apart by determined teeth and claws.

Nadia and Rhun went to his aid.

Jordan and Erin crossed and stood at the threshold, fearing to enter alone. Jordan played his light across the space, discovering that Rhun’s keen senses proved true. The archway did lead to another room—a large circular space, empty and cavernous—but as he played his beam along the curved wall, an awful truth became evident.

There was no other exit.