Read Online The Damned by Nancy Holder, Debbie Viguié - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nancy Holder, Debbie Viguié
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hated worse the spineless people in authority who failed to take action. They left it to children, Japanese samurai girls, and crazy Irishmen to do the work that must be done.
Ironically, many humans had fled to Venice when war broke out with the Cursed Ones. They had hoped, prayed, that the old stories about vampires being unable to cross water were true, and had sought refuge there because of all the canals.
They’d been wrong.
Cursed Ones had floated up and down the canals in their gondolas on La Notte del Terrore , the Night of Terror. The Venetian lagoon had sloshed with human blood. Sofia, who was only ten, told Jamie and Eriko all about it in a singsong, rehearsed voice, though she herself was too young to actually remember it.
They walked for nearly two miles more, past churches and palazzi grand in their elegant decay. Jamie spared no time to gawk. When Sofia crossed a street without looking, he went into a bit of a panic, even though there were no cars.
“Now we here,” Sofia said, slowing in front of an opulent private palazzo. Three stories of elaborate stonework and mosaics glittered in the blessed sun. But it had gotten very late, and that sun was sinking fast.
Without hesitating, she crossed the threshold.
“Hold on,” Jamie said, peering around her. Through the mosaic archway, everything was pitch-black. Though resistance cells took great care to disguise their rendezvous points, this place screamed ambush.
“Come,” Sofia said, as she trundled on ahead.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered to Eriko, who put a finger to her lips to silence him. She followed after Sofia, but he could tell she wasn’t happy either. But Father Juan had ordered them to meet up with Sofia and let her escort them to the meeting. Far be it from Eri to disobey the good father—even if it seemed that the man had not taken into account that a ten-year-old could not walk two miles as fast as two fighters could.
They moved through the corridor without incident. Jamie did not heave a sigh of relief. There was something off about the crumbling mansion with its arched balcony windows. The glass panes had long ago been punched out, and a breeze carried the odor of fetid canal water to Jamie’s nose through the lacy frames. He couldn’t smell Cursers the way Antonio and Holgar could. Neither could Eriko.
Sofia kept going. Shadows shifted over cracked white and black marble squares. A pile of rotting wood and velvet looked to have once been a settee. Beyond it, a harpsichord had long ago collapsed in on itself. Why meet here?
“They behind, they wait, you,” Sofia said in broken English as she pointed toward another Moorish archway and the blackened expanse beyond.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Eriko asked. Sofia just stared at her. “You come?”
Sofia shook her head, glancing behind her at the setting sun. “Night, she come.” Her smile was angelic, like Maeve’s.
“Grazie, bella,” Jamie said, struggling to keep the sudden emotion out of his voice. “Go home. Be safe.” He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. “Ciao.”
She dimpled, giggling at his wretched accent, he supposed. He watched as she skipped out the front door, fading like a wraith into the twilight.
He and Eriko glanced at each other. In unison they pulled stakes from quivers at their waists. With a nod he let her lead the way. Eriko had drunk Father Juan’s magick mojo juice, which endowed her with strength and speed he could not match. But Jamie often caught her rubbing her elbows and knees, and rolling her shoulders, like an old lady. Every time he asked her about it, she insisted she was fine. She was their Hunter, once their leader, and his loyalty lay with her rather than Jenn, who’d taken over the role of commandant. Bad choice, that, even if he, Jamie, had gone along with it at the time. That had been a mistake. And on top of it something was wrong with Eri.
As if she could read his mind, Eriko waved her hand in front
Ironically, many humans had fled to Venice when war broke out with the Cursed Ones. They had hoped, prayed, that the old stories about vampires being unable to cross water were true, and had sought refuge there because of all the canals.
They’d been wrong.
Cursed Ones had floated up and down the canals in their gondolas on La Notte del Terrore , the Night of Terror. The Venetian lagoon had sloshed with human blood. Sofia, who was only ten, told Jamie and Eriko all about it in a singsong, rehearsed voice, though she herself was too young to actually remember it.
They walked for nearly two miles more, past churches and palazzi grand in their elegant decay. Jamie spared no time to gawk. When Sofia crossed a street without looking, he went into a bit of a panic, even though there were no cars.
“Now we here,” Sofia said, slowing in front of an opulent private palazzo. Three stories of elaborate stonework and mosaics glittered in the blessed sun. But it had gotten very late, and that sun was sinking fast.
Without hesitating, she crossed the threshold.
“Hold on,” Jamie said, peering around her. Through the mosaic archway, everything was pitch-black. Though resistance cells took great care to disguise their rendezvous points, this place screamed ambush.
“Come,” Sofia said, as she trundled on ahead.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered to Eriko, who put a finger to her lips to silence him. She followed after Sofia, but he could tell she wasn’t happy either. But Father Juan had ordered them to meet up with Sofia and let her escort them to the meeting. Far be it from Eri to disobey the good father—even if it seemed that the man had not taken into account that a ten-year-old could not walk two miles as fast as two fighters could.
They moved through the corridor without incident. Jamie did not heave a sigh of relief. There was something off about the crumbling mansion with its arched balcony windows. The glass panes had long ago been punched out, and a breeze carried the odor of fetid canal water to Jamie’s nose through the lacy frames. He couldn’t smell Cursers the way Antonio and Holgar could. Neither could Eriko.
Sofia kept going. Shadows shifted over cracked white and black marble squares. A pile of rotting wood and velvet looked to have once been a settee. Beyond it, a harpsichord had long ago collapsed in on itself. Why meet here?
“They behind, they wait, you,” Sofia said in broken English as she pointed toward another Moorish archway and the blackened expanse beyond.
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Eriko asked. Sofia just stared at her. “You come?”
Sofia shook her head, glancing behind her at the setting sun. “Night, she come.” Her smile was angelic, like Maeve’s.
“Grazie, bella,” Jamie said, struggling to keep the sudden emotion out of his voice. “Go home. Be safe.” He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. “Ciao.”
She dimpled, giggling at his wretched accent, he supposed. He watched as she skipped out the front door, fading like a wraith into the twilight.
He and Eriko glanced at each other. In unison they pulled stakes from quivers at their waists. With a nod he let her lead the way. Eriko had drunk Father Juan’s magick mojo juice, which endowed her with strength and speed he could not match. But Jamie often caught her rubbing her elbows and knees, and rolling her shoulders, like an old lady. Every time he asked her about it, she insisted she was fine. She was their Hunter, once their leader, and his loyalty lay with her rather than Jenn, who’d taken over the role of commandant. Bad choice, that, even if he, Jamie, had gone along with it at the time. That had been a mistake. And on top of it something was wrong with Eri.
As if she could read his mind, Eriko waved her hand in front
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