portents, the prophecies of the coming of Armageddon—”
“You mean the advent of the Antichrist,” Marcus said, looking grim. “Of course, what more powerful person to sway the minds of the people could there be than the Pope himself?
And if he has truly mastered the art of dark magic, there could be no stopping him.”
“But stop him, we must,” I said, jumping to my feet. “Pietro, we must return to Rome.”
“Wait.” Marcus put his hand on my shoulder. “If Ferriti really does believe himself to be the Antichrist, he must have prepared himself for every contingency. I am sure he will be heavily guarded, day and night. Look at some of the men around him. Do they look like ordinary priests to you? And we already know about one of them—half human, half demon perhaps. Ferriti has had a long time to prepare for this. Whatever we do, we must be as prepared.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked, seeing the sense of his words.
“We must gather as strong a force as we can. Three or four of us will not do. I will communicate with the Vampire Council and alert them to what might happen. You and Pietro should return to Rome. Find out what you can from inside the Vatican, and report back to me anything you feel is of importance. I will forward all the information to the Council and let them decide the next step. Do not try anything on your own, Bernard.” He paused and put his arms around me. “Promise me you will not confront the demon-priest.” I hugged him back. Of course, he had known of my intentions without asking. “I promise, Marcus. In my heart and mind, you are still our leader, and I will not go against your wishes.”
“Thank you for that, my friend. Now, for the rest of your stay, let us put this away and enjoy each other’s company!”
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
70
Chapter Seven
Constantine
For as long as I had been with the Master, his indulgences could still surprise and shock me. It seemed he cared nothing for what others might think, and indeed, even his most outrageous remarks and actions were greeted with a kind of bland acceptance by the Vatican hierarchy. His powers had grown at an alarming pace, and it seemed he could bestow his will on any man or woman he deemed worthy of his attention. His physical personality was immense, immediately changing forever the way he addressed the faithful. The stuffy pontificating that the Vatican speech writers handed him would, after he had glanced at them, be thrown away, and he would deliver his message with a flamboyant eloquence that had his listeners riveted to his every word.
He preferred to bed women, but it had never been beyond him to use a man in this way if it benefited him. He could, to echo some ancient quote, charm the birds off the trees. Few, if any, stood up to oppose him, and certainly, no one dared a face-to-face confrontation.
International magazines, eager to give him rock-star status, spread his smiling image across the covers of their weekly or monthly issues, declaring that at last the world had a Pontiff who could really reach the masses and who could bring people, especially the young, back to the Church, excited to hear the word of God. If only they knew, I thought, flipping through the pages of the Italian People magazine as I sat in an outside bistro I had become fond of during my relationship with Gustav. The interviews Pius had so freely given were, of course, fabrications. Obviously, he could not tell the truth. The fact that this was the second time he had been elected Pope, the first being some five hundred years ago, might just cause a stir!
If only they knew, I thought again. If only they could see what lurked beneath that smooth and smiling façade. That monster that sat impatiently waiting within him, ready to unsheathe its claws and rend the hearts from those who dared opposed it. The monster that had created me from its own sperm…my Father.
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
71
I sighed and tossed the
“You mean the advent of the Antichrist,” Marcus said, looking grim. “Of course, what more powerful person to sway the minds of the people could there be than the Pope himself?
And if he has truly mastered the art of dark magic, there could be no stopping him.”
“But stop him, we must,” I said, jumping to my feet. “Pietro, we must return to Rome.”
“Wait.” Marcus put his hand on my shoulder. “If Ferriti really does believe himself to be the Antichrist, he must have prepared himself for every contingency. I am sure he will be heavily guarded, day and night. Look at some of the men around him. Do they look like ordinary priests to you? And we already know about one of them—half human, half demon perhaps. Ferriti has had a long time to prepare for this. Whatever we do, we must be as prepared.”
“What do you suggest?” I asked, seeing the sense of his words.
“We must gather as strong a force as we can. Three or four of us will not do. I will communicate with the Vampire Council and alert them to what might happen. You and Pietro should return to Rome. Find out what you can from inside the Vatican, and report back to me anything you feel is of importance. I will forward all the information to the Council and let them decide the next step. Do not try anything on your own, Bernard.” He paused and put his arms around me. “Promise me you will not confront the demon-priest.” I hugged him back. Of course, he had known of my intentions without asking. “I promise, Marcus. In my heart and mind, you are still our leader, and I will not go against your wishes.”
“Thank you for that, my friend. Now, for the rest of your stay, let us put this away and enjoy each other’s company!”
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
70
Chapter Seven
Constantine
For as long as I had been with the Master, his indulgences could still surprise and shock me. It seemed he cared nothing for what others might think, and indeed, even his most outrageous remarks and actions were greeted with a kind of bland acceptance by the Vatican hierarchy. His powers had grown at an alarming pace, and it seemed he could bestow his will on any man or woman he deemed worthy of his attention. His physical personality was immense, immediately changing forever the way he addressed the faithful. The stuffy pontificating that the Vatican speech writers handed him would, after he had glanced at them, be thrown away, and he would deliver his message with a flamboyant eloquence that had his listeners riveted to his every word.
He preferred to bed women, but it had never been beyond him to use a man in this way if it benefited him. He could, to echo some ancient quote, charm the birds off the trees. Few, if any, stood up to oppose him, and certainly, no one dared a face-to-face confrontation.
International magazines, eager to give him rock-star status, spread his smiling image across the covers of their weekly or monthly issues, declaring that at last the world had a Pontiff who could really reach the masses and who could bring people, especially the young, back to the Church, excited to hear the word of God. If only they knew, I thought, flipping through the pages of the Italian People magazine as I sat in an outside bistro I had become fond of during my relationship with Gustav. The interviews Pius had so freely given were, of course, fabrications. Obviously, he could not tell the truth. The fact that this was the second time he had been elected Pope, the first being some five hundred years ago, might just cause a stir!
If only they knew, I thought again. If only they could see what lurked beneath that smooth and smiling façade. That monster that sat impatiently waiting within him, ready to unsheathe its claws and rend the hearts from those who dared opposed it. The monster that had created me from its own sperm…my Father.
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
71
I sighed and tossed the
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