Flesh-&-Bone(34)

“If Margaret snuck into your tent, why’d you let her leave? You could have called a hundred reapers to—”

Mother Rose shook her head. “She’s still my daughter.”

“So—you let her go?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what—?”

“When I threatened to call Saint John, my darling daughter clubbed me unconscious with my own bottle of wine. When I woke up, she was long gone.”

“And you never told anyone?”

“I’m telling you now.”

The giant grunted. “Special monks. Jeez. You believe any of that crap?”

“I do. Over the last three years I’ve kept my ears and eyes open. There have been other people telling similar stories. Unfortunately, these other people were given inoculations and treatments by wandering monks, not at Sanctuary itself. None of them were able to tell me precisely where it is. However, I put enough pieces together to get us this far.”

“You really think the reapers saw your daughter?”

She nodded. “I know they did. Sister Cecily already told me. That’s why I want to meet with the team leaders. I want Margaret brought to me. Alive and able to talk. She does know where Sanctuary is, and I’m going to . . . encourage her to tell her dear, sweet, loving mother.”

“You are one devious broad.” He chuckled. “You know Saint John’ll skin you alive if he ever gets a whiff of any of this, right?”

“Which is why I have you, dear Alexi.” She patted the huge expanse of his chest. “I think it’s high time the Night Church had its first martyr.”

The giant gave her a cruel leer and hefted his hammer. “I can’t wait for the chance to smash that fruitcake into red paste.”

“My hero,” she said, making a joke out of it and rolling her eyes.

The big man bent and kissed Mother Rose full on the mouth. The kiss was intense and passionate.

Mother Rose pushed him roughly away, but she was laughing as she did so. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s coming soon, Alexi, can’t you feel it? The war, this killing, it’s all going to end, and we are going to own this world.”

“What’s left of it,” he snorted.

She punched him on the chest. “Oh, I think there will be plenty left for us to play with.”

They laughed at that, and then turned and walked hand in hand into the forest.

After they were gone, Lilah climbed silently down from her ledge and moved to the spot where the group of reapers had stood. She bent and studied the footprints of each of the people who had just left, identifying them and cataloging them in her mind. Alexi’s prints were larger than any prints Lilah had ever seen. He would be very easy to track, though Lilah knew that if it came to a fight, she would have to use her pistol. There was no way she wanted to tangle with that brute and his sledgehammer. Alexi looked like he could have broken Charlie Pink-eye in half with his bare hands.

She moved along the bank of the stream, backtracking to follow Mother Rose’s footprints. They came from the east. Lilah also saw that those prints overlapped several of the tiny prints made by Eve. Mother Rose had clearly come from the east, just as Eve had. As, perhaps, all of these strangers had. Coming from the east, pushing trouble to the west.

Lilah caught movement above her and glanced up to see several vultures circling in the east. If Eve’s family was somewhere farther down this creek, then Lilah needed to find them and warn them.

But as she ran, she already believed that it was too late.





21

THE MALE LION STOOD AND WATCHED THEM, BUT HE MADE NO MOVE. The breeze ruffled the dark tangles of his mane but he held his ground, seeming content to be a spectator. It was the females, Benny remembered, who did the hunting. Males, though powerful and aggressive, were lazier. After a science class one day, Nix had dropped a comment about how true this was among humans, too. Benny had wisely avoided replying, but Morgie Mitchell challenged her on it, and the rest of the afternoon was spent at the fishing hole, watching Nix surgically dissect Morgie with her sharp tongue.

Now he watched as one big female took a tentative step toward them. The other two females, both of them considerably smaller than her, crouched and tensed, waiting to pick up their attack cues. Benny remembered something about smaller lionesses in a pack “herding” prey toward the big female, who did the killing. He and his friends had made that job easier for them by standing all in a bunch, with a deadfall behind them and nowhere else to run.