Prophecies and Lies

Chapter Forty-Six

Hey, here's another chapter! Enjoy!

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          Silence ruled the dim rooms of the Cathedral. Most of the thousands of candles had been put out in the great hall, so the place seemed even emptier than it already was. None of the werewolves liked to be up here, surrounded by so many holy signs. Blake though, preferred the space. Even in his younger years, he had adored the apparent wealth of it. And now, all alone, he could take in the art in all peace and quiet. The many statues of saints, the pictures of Heaven, of angels and good folk. And he couldn’t help but wonder, was that how it was really like?

          Though he disliked anything that broke the spell, his own footsteps didn’t seem to bother him. They echoed through the room, but the silence remained nevertheless; it just made it more apparent that he was alone.

          It felt good to be alone for a change. In the past days, he had surrounded himself with people more than he was used to. Joanne always counted on him to be there when she called for him, but when she didn’t, he could do as he pleased. None of the vampires of the Court ever bothered with him. Here though, he had to keep a close eye on June and Terrance and Maya, making sure that his chance would come to execute his plan.

          After all he had done, maybe it was appropriate he was alone—even if only for a little while. He was quite aware of the betrayal, he knew Terrance had trusted him and he had lied to him. He didn’t like it. Terrance was his friend, if not now, then at least somewhere in the past. But this was necessary. Not for revenge—he didn’t blame him for Joanne’s death. No one could have stopped her, had she really wanted to die, and Terrance was right: she was a puppet of the Devil. The world was better off with her dead…

          He didn’t like it though, he hated himself for thinking this way. After all he had done for her, he couldn’t stay unstirred by her sudden demise.

          But he shouldn’t dwell on it. He shouldn’t dedicate his life to revenge, and he shouldn’t keep thinking of her. He had to move on, and learn from his own mistakes. That was what he was doing now. That was what this all was about.

          “I’m not fleeing anymore,” he whispered to the altar, a promise to both God and himself.

          The sudden sound of footsteps made him turn around; Nikolai approached him from the other side of the room.

          “Beautiful,” the werewolf growled. “All this wealth, dedicated to our destruction.”

          “It’s dedicated to God, not to us,” Blake corrected him ever so calmly.

          Nikolai shrugged. “Whatever. At least we won’t have to bother with it for much longer. They’re preparing the ritual as we speak. We almost have everything we need… almost. Where is that locket you promised me?”

          “With Terrance, perhaps?”

          “We checked him, we took everything he carried with him—it’s not there…” He growled. “You promised me that locket, Blake.”