Secrets and Sins Part 2: Finding Mary

Chapter 57

~Beatrice~

A sharp metallic smell tainted the air, stinging her nose.

Blood.

It was in her eyes, splashed across her skin both warm and fresh, as well as dried and sticky. She could even taste it in her mouth, the tang of iron coating her tongue.

The screams and gurgles of the dying echoed in her ears.

It wasn’t her blood. Not yet anyway.

Beatrice knew just how lethal she could be when pushed and it had never been a problem for her before she had met Ava. But now…now she was striving to be better, more forgiving, not just a weapon of the Catholic Church.

They had foolishly stood between her and Ava in this narrow hallway of St Peter’s Basilica. That justified her actions…or at least this is what she told herself as she ended life after life.

Thrusting the blade in her right hand through the abdomen of the next unfortunate soul in what seemed to be a never-ending string of guards, she had a front-row seat to watch the light fading from his eyes as he died almost instantly.

I wonder if he had a family…

No.

She shoved that thought deep down, Beatrice knew she had to be single-minded in this fight, she had to treat these men as obstacles to overcome, not humans. Any distractions, any hesitations, and it could kill her or worse, Ava, if she didn't reach her in time.

Blocking out her sympathy, her pity, her compassion...her humanity, Beatrice brought her swords down again and again, adding to the growing pile of bodies behind her as she advanced towards the audience chamber. Her vision narrowed, her body on autopilot, this was her mission, and she would fulfil it.

Beatrice reached the final enemy, he tried to run but the sister warrior dropped the sword in her left hand and seized him, yanking the guard back towards her.

“Mercy?” He begged, eyes wide with terror, tears threatening to spill.

She wasted no time considering his request, instead Beatrice just shook her head, dragging the edge of her blade across his throat and letting him drop to the floor. The guard gasped wetly as he clawed at the wound, trying to stop the blood from pumping out of his torn open carotid. He was as good as dead; the sister warrior knew where she had cut him.

“Bea?” A whisper pulled Beatrice’s attention from the dying guard; her stomach dropped.

Ava stood before her, framed by the ornate wooden door of the audience chamber, her face pale, honey-brown eyes like saucers, tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

She's terrified.

Beatrice looked around herself, ready to destroy the object of the Halo bearer’s fear until she realized there was no one in the hall other than herself.

“What did you do?”

Beatrice's eyes fell back on the younger woman to see Ava staring back at her, expression twisted in disgust, and, worst of all, hate.