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The Blessed Knights

Mary Ting



  Copyright © Mary Ting 2016

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Licensing Notes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  The Blessed Knights

  Prologue

  Jacques stared out the window of his chamber unaware of the time, waiting patiently for his friend to visit. His eyes settled on the full silver moon beaming across the land and the specks of brilliant light dotting the sky. He wanted to tell his friend secrets he’d been hiding, secrets that needed to be told in case Cyrus, the master of demon possessors, ever silenced Jacques’s tongue. Though he wore a crystal cross necklace from an Elementa, Ikelia, to hide him from Cyrus, nothing ensured his safety. Jacques would never be safe from the evil being. He felt Cyrus’s breath against his face…smelled the repugnant scent of demon…felt the burning sensation where the true cross drove into his heart.

  Cyrus demanded a treasure, the only treasure that could open the gates of Hell. Jacques would sacrifice his own life before he would ever give Cyrus what he wanted. So after Cyrus almost killed Jacques in the church where Cyrus had murdered Father Simon, Jacques made sure to hide the treasure well. In order to do so, he had written clues in a book revealing the location where the treasure would be hidden. The book, Jacques’s personal journal, not only held those clues, but also drawings of artifacts they had found in Solomon’s Temple. He tore off the three pages that held clues, intending to secret them in various places. One page had already been hidden.

  Jacques had once thought the book should remain hidden from everyone, but he had been reconsidering. Someone else had to know its location. It must be someone he absolutely trusted, someone who would without a doubt keep his secret. It had to be one of the Knights Templar.

  Jacques snapped out of his daze and wondered what kept his friend so long. Geoffroi de Charney lived on the opposite side of the priory. They’d been comrades and looked out for each other, traveling back and forth from France to Jerusalem and sometimes battling bandits. Geoffroi had even defended Jacques when he had been injured by one of the thieves’ swords. They’d been through much together.

  Thump! Thump!

  Jacques scrambled to the door. “Who’s there?”

  “’Tis I, Geoffroi.” The voice muffled through the thick wooden door.

  Jacques opened the door, tugged his friend inside, and shut it quickly. “Have a seat,” he commanded tersely. Since the incident with Cyrus, Jacques had become guarded, checking his surroundings constantly, and had closed himself off from the world.

  “Have you gone mad? There are no demons behind me, Jacques.” Geoffroi chuckled, patting his friend on the back, and then sat in the chair beside the table. Geoffroi always found humor in dangerous situations. It was one of the qualities Jacques admired in his friend.

  Despite his friend’s amiable manner, Jacques frowned. Geoffroi had been the only one that hadn’t taken Jacques seriously when he’d told his brothers how the Cathedral of Troyes had burned down; however, Jacques felt certain he could make his friend believe. Jacques had to try, for among his brothers, he trusted Geoffroi the most. Geoffroi thought Jacques had gone mad from breathing too much smoke. Jacques told his Knights Templar brothers everything, leaving out no detail except for the book, which Geoffroi would learn about that night.

  Jacques pulled out a chair and sat across from Geoffroi. His white tunic gleamed, the purest thing in the dimly lit stone room, marked with the Knights Templar’s red-cross emblem. In the comfort of his own room, Jacques had taken his off. “Do you still have the broken piece of Moses’s staff?”

  Geoffroi blinked his gray eyes with a baffled look. “Yes.” He nodded, arching his brows. “Why?”

  Jacques’s shoulders eased, relieved his friend still had the staff. “May I see it?”

  “What value does it hold?” Geoffroi snorted skeptically.

  “Nay, ‘tis not what you think. I want to use it for...” Jacques didn’t know how to explain he wanted to make a weapon out of it like he had done with the true cross. If he explained what that piece could do without proof, Geoffroi wouldn’t believe it anyway. He scooted closer and glanced at the door and then back to his friend. “Listen well. I must tell you something most important, but I need you to promise not to repeat my words to anyone.”

  Geoffroi leaned back in the chair and glanced at the stone wall, and then lowered his eyes to where his host’s sword and armor rested. He ruffled his auburn hair and wrinkled his nose. “Yes,” he agreed.

  Jacques told Geoffroi about the book that described some of the artifacts they’d found. But not all. Jacques also described the power of the true cross. Most importantly, he told Geoffroi about the Elementa who had helped conceal the first page, and how the three pages told the location of the most valuable treasure of them all—the very treasure that could be the destruction of humanity and the beginning of Hell.

  Geoffroi parted his lips, utterly shocked. Jacques didn’t know what to make of it until his friend spoke after a long stretch of silence. Perhaps he had needed time to soak it all in.

  “Well,” Geoffroi began, “I apologize for thinking you lost your wits in the cathedral fire. But what in Heaven have you gotten yourself into? And how can I help you?”

  Jacques eased his shoulders. Geoffroi’s support meant the world to him, and the glimmer of hope sparkled once again. It wasn’t the hope of defeating evil, but the kind of hope that came alive knowing someone believed him, knowing that person would help. He felt less alone.

  “I need the piece from Moses’s staff. It’s a weapon I can use against a demon.” Jacques rubbed his jaw and inhaled a deep sigh. “And if you can tell me what other artifacts you hold, it might give me a clue as to how to conceal the second page.”

  Geoffroi placed his elbow on the wooden table and gazed around the room as if searching for something. Then he locked his eyes on a leather-bound volume at the corner of the table. “Is that the book?” His eyes grew wide with curiosity.

  “No.” Jacques lied. “’Tis my book of prayers.” He’d shared information with Geoffroi, but Jacques didn’t want anyone to see or touch the book. His book was almost as sacred as the Bible.

  “I only had two,” Geoffroi continued. “Besides Moses’ staff, I have something that might intrigue you, but I don’t think you can use it as a weapon. Maybe just admire it instead.”

  Jacques blanked out for a second, remembering the Temple of Solomon, during the time when they had found riches of gold and silver and treasures the Pope hoped they’d find. There’d been many artifacts, such as the chalice, Jesus’s shroud, and the list went on.

  “Please, tell me. Perhaps it can be of use.” Jacques grinned appreciatively, grateful his friend was willing to share.

  Geoffroi leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “Do you remember when we found the Ark of the Covenant in the Temple of Solomon?”

  Jacques reached into his memory bank, dredging up the past that seemed too old to remember. He recalled working day and night, digging, searching, and hoping to find the lost history. All the sweat and hard labor had paid off. He recalled the excitement and the joy he’d had.

  “Yes,” he replied with certainty. “Inside the Ark were Moses’s and Aaron’s staffs, a jar of manna, the Ten Commandments, and something that looked like a miniature version of the Ark. About this long.” He held his hands out about eight inche
s apart. “About this tall.” He placed one hand about eight inches above the other.

  “Yes,” Geoffroi confirmed. The spark in his gray eyes dimmed.

  “You have it?” Jacques’s voice became louder, a bit more intense. “What’s inside it?”

  “It’s nothing really.” Geoffroi chuckled nervously, rubbing his arms. “It’s just some dust. Perhaps you’d like to see it?”

  “Yes, please.” Jacques wanted to do more than see it. He needed to have it. He planned to take it back to the witch and ask for her help, to make it harder to decipher the second missing paper. It had to be done.

  “I shall return,” his friend said.

  Jacques locked the door and looked out the window. The peaceful night calmed his raging soul. War brewed inside him, urging him to win a battle against Cyrus, and Jacques needed to see something good, something pure.

  Though uncertain if what he had planned would work, he had to try. He had never seen supernatural beings firsthand until he met Cyrus, but now that Jacques’s eyes were open, he would try to understand the demon and beat it. He would use all means to fight back against Cyrus, not just for the present, but also for the future, for humanity. Though Jacques was a mere human, he would get help from those willing. With hope, courage, determination, and a little bit of luck, surely he could outsmart Cyrus. If not, Jacques would see Hell in his lifetime.

  God help us all.

  Chapter 1

  Eli

  “Lucia,” I murmured.

  Saying her name gave me some relief from the unbearable humid, heavy air, but a nasty chemical scent invaded my nostrils. Sulfur. Like the bitter smell just after you strike a match. Hopefully I wasn’t trapped inside a volcano.

  Sweat dampened my back, my chest, and trickled down my forehead. My throat ached for water, and my lips were cracked and dry as the desert. How many days had passed? The hunger pangs in my stomach told me it had been long enough.

  Sitting at the corner of my prison with my knees tucked to my chest, I stared at the cuffs on my wrists, preventing me from using my powers. They chafed like regular metal cuffs but glowed dimly red. Definitely magic. A rat scurried away across the dirt, and I half expected the rat to transform into a supernatural being from Hilo High School. No such luck so far. I must be losing my mind. I hoped one of the ants crawling on the rocky wall would turn into Ant Man and rescue me.

  I hadn’t been able to astral travel to reach out to Lucia since I was first captured. The true-cross dagger had weakened me too much. God, I wished I could be with her instead of my hell. Thinking about her gave me hope of being rescued, so I kept my mind busy with thoughts of her.

  The first time I set eyes on Lucia at the cafeteria, I had astral traveled to appear in front of her and sensed a supernatural being staring at me. Her angelic, beautiful face and the strange longing feeling she produced in my gut threw me off. Her brown eyes stared back at me, intense and curious as when she saw my demon mist form. My breath traveled out of me in a black vapor, touching her lips as I felt her sweet breath on my face. She smelled of honey and iris, and I wanted to stay in that position as long as I could. Since that day, I couldn’t shake her scent or the thoughts of her.

  Not only had Lucia piqued my interest, but she also made my heart hammer faster. From the way she had stared at me, I knew she had powers like mine, and I needed to know more of her. Actually, I wanted to kiss her, but that wouldn’t have been a great way to start a friendship.

  Finding out she was an angel gutted me. I couldn’t believe my luck. I actually felt something real for a girl for the first time in a long time, and my mother’s prediction haunted me. At first, it was purely physical, but it became so much more after only days. Mother had told me before she had passed away that a girl with wings would be my destruction. But what exactly did “destruction” mean? Yes, I did give myself up so Cyrus would take me instead of killing Lucia, but Cyrus had always wanted me. Was that what Mother tried to forewarn me about? Tied up in prison, what kind of destruction awaited me?

  I tried to stay away from Lucia, but from the moment our eyes locked, we were lost in each other. She couldn’t stay away, either. We were both doomed. Angels and demons did not have relationships. But I couldn’t look into the future yet. I had to survive today.

  I knew Lucia and my friends were trying to find me, but a part of me wished they wouldn’t. When I thought of Brody and Milani, my heart ached like crazy. I knew they were suffering from my absence, especially Milani. She would close herself off from the world. Damn it! Nothing better happen to me. I was all she had. Abel surprised me. Despite our past disagreements, he agreed to the plan I had created without any hesitation. My plan to get Abel closer to Cyrus by pretending to backstab me backfired, though. Then everything went to shit from there.

  Being in the hands of Cyrus would be the same as being in the hands of the devil. Not that I knew the devil personally, but evil beings were all the same. Placing my hand over my heart, where Cyrus had pierced my chest with the true-cross dagger, I remembered the agony of it. Frozen in place, I had gone to Hell and back. Blood stained my white dress shirt, and my suit jacket and pants were ripped, like I had been clawed by a wild animal, and caked with dirt.

  Raking my hair back with both hands, since I had no choice but to move them both, I stiffened as speedy footsteps tapped on the ground. I had no idea where my prison was located, but the uneven structure of the rocky walls and the ground scattered with pebbles and dirt suggested I was underground or in another world. There were many places between Heaven and Earth, and if I were in one of them, I was totally screwed. It would take time to locate me.

  My muscles went rigid when the bars of my cell shook. Cyrus had come to torture me. I hadn’t seen him since he had taken the true-cross dagger out of my heart. Damn him! I didn’t care what he did to me. I would never give him any information. I didn’t know anything anyway.

  “Eli.”

  My head snapped at the sound of Lucia’s voice, and my heart sprang with joy. Her long dark brown hair covered half her face. Surprised to see her, I raised a shaky hand to the bars at first.

  “Lucia?” Her name barely left my parched mouth.

  “Eli.” Lucia smiled, but her eyes hinted at panic. “Come quick. I need to get you out before they find me.”

  I got up, stumbled a few steps, and gripped the rods to steady myself when I almost dropped to my knees. The true-cross dagger took a toll on my body.

  “Lucia. Is that really you?” I blinked, astounded by her appearance there. Either Lucia ran into a trap or … how did she find me so fast? I stuck my hands between the bars and cupped her face, running my thumb along the cheeks I’d touched many times before. So soft, so smooth, so real. Lucia.

  “Eli, it’s me.” Her face leaned into my palm. “I’ve missed you so much. Hurry, give me your necklace. I’ll use it to break the lock.”

  Snapping back into action, I felt for the crystal sunburst pendent my mother had gifted me. As I started to unlink my necklace, something in my gut told me to stop. “Lucia, where’s your sword? You can use your sword.”

  “I lost it. Hurry, Eli. They’re coming.”

  “But you don’t know how to use the necklace.” I took a step back, surveying her from head to toe. She had the same dark hair and beautiful, soulful brown eyes. Her figure was the same, sexy and oh so damn hot. Focus away from her body. I might have drooled. But something … Lucia smelled of honey and iris, but the girl in front of me did not. Anger burned within me, and I glared hard at her. “You’re not Lucia. Who are you?”

  Lucia’s eyes widened. “Eli, I assure you it’s me. Hurry.”

  “Did you come by yourself?” My tone hardened.

  “No. Of course I didn’t,” she drawled.

  I inched closer and inhaled her scent again, hoping I had been wrong before. “When did we first meet?”

  “Eli. What are you doing? We don’t have time for such a silly question.”

  “Lucia. Just
answer me, damn it. I need you to answer me.”

  She paused, dipped her head for a second, and then met my gaze. “You shouldn’t ask me questions, stupid boy. What’s wrong with you?” Her voice deepened as wings sprouted out of her. Then both of her black wings slid through the space between the bars. They punctured the length of my arms like knives, pinning me in place. I roared as pain ripped through me. Blood seeped down my arm, soaking through the fabric and pooling around me. My body shuddered when she lifted me off the ground.

  “You … are … not Lucia.” I bit my bottom lip, trying to tolerate the piercing pain. “You are not worthy to even pretend to be her. Who are you?”

  “Someone you will learn to respect.” Her nose lifted and became thicker. The structure of her face broadened, and hair sprouted out along her jaw. Her eyes sank deeper, and her irises turned red. The long, dark hair shrank right before my eyes like magic, and muscles grew on her body. She had transformed into a man. Working his jaw and squaring his shoulders, he pulled his wings out slowly, allowing me to feel every cut.

  My growl echoed through the prison walls as I dropped to my knees. More blood drained out of me. I shook from the tortuous pain and blood loss.

  “Bowing before your master, I see. You are learning your lesson.”

  “I’m not bowing, asshole,” I seethed. “You dropped me.” My words slowed and the walls began to spin. “You also injured me. So I wouldn’t exactly say this was voluntary, you piece of shit.”

  “You will bow to me of your free will. And we need to clean your wicked tongue. You are one of us now.” His deep voice rang inside my head.

  “You say I’m one of you, but you treat me like a prisoner. I wonder how you treat your enemies.”

  I wanted to see this being who expected me to bow before him, but I couldn’t lift my head. As more gut-wrenching pain took control of me, I didn’t have the will to spit out all the curse words I wanted to say to him. Damn him to Hell!

  Mother told me of Fallen like him. They could mislead you to think they were someone else. Some called them shifters or changelings, but I called them liars. I worried for Lucia. Transforming into Lucia meant he had studied her enough to change into her.