Page 154 of Eternal Surrender

Her face was flushed with horror. “We just witnessed a murder.”

She seemed too shaken for me to bring up I’d almost seen hers.

“Westminster Abbey flashed through Alistair’s thoughts,” I said. “There’s something significant here. I have to find out what that is.”

“Are the scrolls here?” she asked. “Is that what you saw?”

I shook my head. “His thoughts were too blurry to get anything of substance.”

“What if he was trying to mislead you?”

I picked up the soiled shirt and shoved it to the bottom of the corner wicker hamper. “Let’s find out.”

We headed into the Abbey.

“How old is this cathedral?” Ingrid asked, her gaze wandering.

“Over a thousand years old. It’s the resting place for history’s artists, poets, kings and scientists.”

In any other circumstance, she’d have found the medieval coronation throne fascinating, or perhaps she’d have paused longer before Charles Dickens’s memorial, or taken time to pay homage to William Shakespeare’s sepulture; but neither these nor any of the other veritable monuments of English history could shake Ingrid from her disquiet.

Finally she spoke again, her voice a whisper. “We just left his body lying there.”

“We had no choice,” I said.

“I shouldn’t have left the scene.”

“Then the next arrow might have found you,” I reasoned.

“Alistair worked for them.” She shook her head. “And they killed him in cold blood.” She stepped back, shaking her head woefully. “What am I caught in the middle of?”

“Perhaps now you understand why I wanted to keep you at arm’s length.”

“What if Alistair thought of this place merely as a ruse?”

“I know what I saw,” I insisted. “There’s something significant here.”

“What did his blood taste of?”

“Metal.”

“Obviously it disgusted you enough to make you spit it out.” She sighed deeply. “Sure it wasn’t garlic?”

I gave her a look. “He’s deliberately ingested or injected something.”

“Something that poisons vampires but doesn’t harm mortals?” She grimaced. “We could be in here for a week and not find anything.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “He was our only lead.”

“I’m sorry.” I ran my fingers through my hair, sharing her frustration.

“Oh no!” She grabbed my shirt sleeve and guided me back the way we’d come. “Alistair’s blood.” Her pace sped up. “We need to test it!”

Twenty or so school children flocked around us, slowing our return to the vestry.

Once inside, I went straight over to the linen basket where I’d discarded my shirt soiled with Alistair’s blood.

It was empty.

“How could I be so stupid?” Ingrid cringed. “It was right in front of us.” She threw her hands up in the air.