Page 60 of The Assassin and the Libertine
Father Clarence quaked at my violence, but Daphne laid a hand on my arm.
“No, Étienne. Leave him be. There doesn’t need to be any more unnecessary killing. This is not his fight,mon cher.If he cannot help us, we must face it on our own. If only there was time to get a message to The Order?—”
“Wait—but The Order does not have female members,” Father Clarence choked through my grip. I loosened my hold.
“What do you know of The Order?” I demanded.
“Well, I know them by reputation, as any priest does. They do the work of God where we cannot! But surely, Madame—” He eyed Daphne’s leather harness full of weapons and his fear melted away. “Youarewith The Order, aren’t you, Madame? Oh, I cannot believe it! You must tell me—what are they like? Since when do they allow women among their ranks? Never mind, never mind. That would be presumptuous of me to ask and Iam sure you took some sort of holy vow to protect The Order’s secrets. Oh! I cannot believe I am meeting a member of The Holy Order!”
His face split into a wide grin and he reached for her hand, presently curled around a small glass vial of what I guessed was holy water. Daphne cocked her brow, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor.
“Madame, if I have offended in any way, I regretfully apologize. I will do whatever I can to aid you in your mission. I only ask that you speak well of me to your masters.”
“You will help us?” I asked suspiciously. “Meaning, you will perform an unsanctioned exorcism?”
He nodded vigorously, his eyes wide and sweat condensing on his forehead. “Yes, yes. If that is what you require. I am bound to do as you ask.” Father Clarence felt about his pockets and produced a small, yellowed bible and his rosary. He gestured to the vial of holy water in Daphne’s hand and she tossed it to him.
“Very well, Father Clarence. I thank you for your change of heart. Étienne and I will do what we can to protect you, but understand that we face a cruel and extremely dangerous foe tonight.”
Father Clarence nodded. “Asmoday.”
Daphne shook her head. “I refer to my husband.”
Vibrating with excitement and no small amount of fear, Father Clarence got out of the carriage. Daphne made to follow him, but I held her back.
“Are you certain about this?”
“Of course not. But we don’t have a choice. I don’t know what we’re going to face in there, Étienne, but I would rather face it with a man of God than without,” she said, frowning.
“You go in with a man of God and a beast from Hell,” I said, lightly touching her cheek. She smiled and the sadness in it nearly undid me.
“You are no beast from Hell. Trust me. I know the type.” She leaned forward and pressed a small, chaste kiss to my lips.
With that, we left the safety of the carriage and began our march to the bookshop.
Father Clarence babbled incessantlyto Daphne the entire way to theRue des Oubliés, asking her question after question about The Order. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. If this priest failed us tonight, I would happily drain him. Now that he knew of Daphne’s allegiance to The Order, he looked at her with something like boyhood admiration. I could understand it, but it needled my irrational jealousy.
For her part, Daphne was quiet in between her terse, one-word responses to Father Clarence. Her eyes darted around, and her muscles twitched with the slightest noises, though there weren’t many. Curiously, and perhaps inauspiciously, the district was silent. There were none of the customary sounds of a lively neighborhood—no raucous groups loitering around late-night taverns or brothels. In fact, I couldn’t see a single lit candle or the glow of a hearth anywhere.Le Quartier Sanglantappeared to be deserted once again.
A couple of streets away from the bookshop, Daphne hauled up. She beckoned to Father Clarence and I and motioned for us to be quiet.
“Étienne, can you detect anything?”
I took a deep breath and reached out with my senses. I heard rats scurrying around piles of refuse and wind whispering through broken windows. I heard the heartbeats of Daphne andFather Clarence, one steady and the other racing. I smelled the grit and damp of the streets—stale blood and old sweat, sour ale, and the offal of animals and vampires. Beneath it all, there was an almost undetectable thread; silk, rosewater, fresh blood, and sulfur.
“They are here. Charlotte is, at least. I am less familiar with Philippe’s scent. I’m afraid I cannot tell if she is dead or alive. There is fresh blood in the air, though it could be from the broken glass we found at the palace. I’m certain the blood is from small wounds—if there were a greater quantity, it would be a much stronger odor and a greater draw for me.”
Father Clarence grimaced and crossed himself.
“Save your prayers for the exorcism, priest,” I grumbled.
Daphne let out a sigh of relief. “There is still hope, then.”
Father Clarence patted her arm. “There is always hope, my child.”
Checking the powder and shot in her pistol, Daphne nodded and started forward again. Father Clarence followed closely behind her, now thankfully silent. I brought up the rear, pausing every few steps to listen for something—anything. As we neared the dilapidated storefront of the bookshop, the sulfur grew stronger—much stronger than it had been when we were here last. I took that to mean either Asmoday had been here more recently, or he had grown stronger since then. Possibly both.
“Be on your guard,” I warned. Daphne flashed me a look that said,Well, obviously.Father Clarence wiped the sweat from his brow.
