Blood Sacrifice by Maria Lima Page A

commanded. “We need to talk.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    “Renew. Regroup. Rethink.”
    —Motivational Poster
     
    T ucker wasted no time in exiting our room. I shivered despite the heat, my body reacting to what I knew now was danger with a capital Magick and Mayhem. “This isn’t good.”
    Adam shook his head and began to dress, pulling on a pair of lightweight cotton slacks. “Far from it.” He rummaged around in the tallboy and pulled out a folded T-shirt. Black, just like the trousers. “Get dressed. We can discuss this downstairs.”
    “What, in the full glare of the afternoon sun?”
    A pair of bike shorts landed on my lap along with a tank top. “I am fully aware that it’s still day, Keira,” Adam said.
    I threw off my robe and dressed. “I know that, Adam. Sorry for the snark, but…”
    “There’s a basement room,” he said. “We can get there down the back staircase. No windows.”
    “You do know this place well.”
    “I do.”
    I followed him out the door and to the left as he headed for the other end of the hallway, opposite the stairs we’d come up earlier. Servants’ stairs? Must be. “So, if you know this place so well,” I continued. “How come you didn’t know there’s a cemetery out back?”
    Adam started down the first step then turned. “I’ve used this as a place to sleep, nothing more. I’ve never seen the grounds.”
    “Oh.” With that, there really wasn’t much more to say. Why was I getting so sarcastic and stupid? What Adam had done before we were together meant little to me. I mean, I knew he and Niko were paired for centuries, lovers for a long time, and family even longer. I didn’t care about that. Maybe it was just this place, so full of whispers of the past, of restless spirits.
    We descended the stairs in silence, past the opening to the kitchen, past the sounds of the women chattering, down another flight into gloom. A carved wooden door stood at the bottom, stained dark with age, its carvings intricate and very obviously done by hand. A weak lightbulb illuminated the landing. I peered at the carvings. “Angels?”
    “Yes, angels, devils, saints, and sinners,” Adam said as he pulled open the door. “This used to be the chapel.”
    He stepped through the silent doorway into the darkness beyond. I followed.
    The cool of the room came as a blessed relief. Inside were several benches of some sort, up front, a table? Adam reached the front of the room and flipped a hidden switch. A few dim overhead lights sprang to life, illuminating wooden pews and an altar. Well then. “I take it ‘used to be’ is a heck of a lot more recent than I thought,” I said.
    “Yes.” Adam ran a hand down the edge of the wooden altar, its rounded edge smooth and shiny. No fancy embroidered cloth covered it as it sat naked on the slightly raised dais. “I believe the sisters still use it regularly.”
    “It’s not consecrated?” No duh, I thought. Or else Adam wouldn’t have been able to enter the room.
    “Sacred, but not consecrated,” he said. “No cross, no trappings of man-made religion. It was once blessed, but no longer.”
    “Just a quiet place to pray.” Niko’s voice came from behind us. “I’d forgotten this was here.” He smiled a little and, like Adam, ran a hand down a pew, as if remembering, savoring thought and memory by touch. “It’s a good place.”
    “Where’s Tucker?” I asked.
    “Charming the ladies,” Niko chuckled. “Your brother thought it would be good to get food. I don’t think you two have eaten in a while, have we?”
    “Good idea,” Adam said. “We may be here for quite a bit.” I had to agree, it was a good idea. I hadn’t noticed until now, but I was famished. I think the last actual meal I’d had was sometime yesterday evening, before I’d dolled up for our Reception. I’d grabbed a protein bar this morning while organizing the final exodus with John, but that was about it. I knew that Adam hadn’t fed properly,