Tudor Vampire Chronicles 02 - Blood of the Rose by Kate Pearce

Author:Kate Pearce [Pearce, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, General, Paranormal
ISBN: 9781101477021
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2011-02-01T07:00:00+00:00

Despite the darkened streets, Christopher could easily spot their destination. The hulking outline of Westminster Abbey was ablaze with lights, the scent of incense and burning wax hovering over the giant structure like a permanent, mystical cloud. Marcus gestured at one of the narrow side alleys.

“We’ll go around the back and enter through the cloisters. I’ve already alerted Brother Samuel that we are coming.”

Christopher dismounted and, finding no willing urchin in sight ready to hold his horse, loosely tied the reins to the nearest tree. Marcus did the same and they set off into the darkness, the towering stone walls of the abbey on their right. A lantern burned over an arch-shaped oak door set into the thick outer walls, and Marcus rapped on the door.

It was opened by a young monk dressed in the traditional black garb of the Benedictine order. His cowl was lowered and, in the flickering light, his pale scalp gleamed like a plucked goose. Christopher shuddered at the sight of it, and thanked God he had never been called to the Church.

Marcus inclined his head. “Brother Samuel is expecting us.”

Christopher concealed a smile. That was Marcus, abrupt to the point of rudeness. Had he ever questioned his allegiances, or wondered at the dictates of the cult’s leader before? Christopher was still surprised that Marcus had decided to go this far and investigate.

The young monk bowed. “Brother Samuel is awaiting you in the north cloister. I will take you to him.”

“Thank you,” Christopher said, which earned him a shy smile from the boy and a disapproving glance from Marcus. They followed the monk through the eastern side of the cloister, which at this time of the night was deserted. The scent of overcooked cabbage and the murmur of voices drifted across from the dining room. Underfoot was the far pleasanter aroma of freshly laid rushes.

The northern side of the cloister was split into smaller carrels to allow several monks to study and work at the same time. In the farthest corner, a single candle on a high desk illuminated the shape of another black-robed figure.

“Brother Samuel is over there.”

The young monk disappeared in the direction of the dining room, and Marcus took off his hat and strode forward, his boots loud on the uneven stone floor. Christopher followed along behind, his gaze fixed on the elderly man perched on a high stool behind the desk.

“Sir Marcus. And how are you this fine evening?”

“I’m well, Brother Samuel.” Marcus shifted his stance and glanced back at Christopher. “May I introduce Lord Christopher Ellis?”

Brother Samuel observed Christopher closely, his round face a study in concentration, his blue eyes narrowed. “Ah, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Christopher bowed. “I dread to think from whom.”

A smile flickered on the elderly monk’s face. “Your uncle said you had a tendency to levity.”

“And he would be right about that, at least.” Christopher moved closer so that he stood next to Marcus. “Did Marcus tell you what he was looking for?”

Brother Samuel sighed. “Indeed, he did.

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