Crusade by Nancy Holder

Author:Nancy Holder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2010-10-14T04:00:00+00:00

“Thank God for basements,” Father Juan said as Antonio stepped from the service elevator and the door closed. They hefted their gear. No one had checked baggage. Everything they had brought, they carried on their backs. That meant they were seriously lacking in weapons of any kind.

“There’s a door leading to the maintenance tunnel, and from there, the sewer.” Father Juan gave Jamie a look. “No smoking.”

Jamie huffed and put his cigarettes away. Everyone was tired and dirty, including Antonio. The sun pulled hard on him. When their plane had been delayed in New York, the danger that he would have to walk in the sun had escalated. Luckily the companionways both in New York and New Orleans had been indoors, shielding him.

Eriko walked with Father Juan toward a gray metal door. Antonio glanced at Skye to see if she sensed any nearby vampires, then at Holgar to see if he smelled anything out of the ordinary. He himself had not. Everyone was tense. Father Juan’s contact in New Orleans had e-mailed information designed to help them connect with the local band of fighters, but refused to meet them in person. He said it was too dangerous, that he’d already risked too much by helping them at all. The only reason he had gotten involved was because Father Juan was a Catholic priest, like him.

“So far, so good,” Father Juan announced as Eriko held open the door. “He said there would be a maintenance cart. Then beyond that, we can get to the sewers.”

“Brilliant,” Jamie groused. He glared at Holgar. “You’ll like that, won’t you, wolfman? Sloggin’ about in a big stream of shite?”

Holgar ignored him.

“And they’ll find us in the sewers?” Skye prompted.

“That’s the plan,” Father Juan replied.

“Ambush us, more like,” Jamie said.

“Please, be quiet,” Eriko said.

They found the cart and wound their way through the warren of service tunnels, moving deeper into darkness and away from the airport. It was Mardi Gras season. Antonio had never been, but the traffic in the terminal had seemed sparse for such a festive occasion. People were afraid to come to New Orleans.

He thought of Jenn all alone, working her way here, and felt a clutch at his unbeating heart. She was a fully trained hunter, chosen by Father Juan, but she was so much more to him. And he had been born to a time when men took care of their women.

Yet you failed the woman who looked to you for protection, he thought. And now she is dead.

He pushed away his guilt and concentrated on moving the team to their rendezvous point. But he couldn’t push away his fear.

For Jenn.

The hours stretched; Antonio determinedly brought up the rear as they kept going. Then he smelled death, and glanced at Holgar, who nodded.

“We’re underneath one of those cemeteries,” Holgar told him. “They bury their dead in those little houses. What do they call them in English?”

“Tombs,” Antonio said.

“So they won’t wash away in the gutters,” Jamie groused, avoiding the fetid water trickling down the center of the tunnel they were in.

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