Novel & Cerita The Pope's Spear

The scent of holy water drifted around the cross, and I laughed. Holy water. It seems that the pope’s church, the Vatican Order, had recruited more soldiers. They thought that we were easily defeated. I slammed my hand into the cross, ignoring the brief burn of the silver on my skin, and watched it shatter and crumble. I took to the air and turned. The scent of blood caught my nose.

A man said, brandishing his pocket knife. “3…” Momo stuttered, his bones crackling and moving as I held him in my hand. “What’s happening?” I stammered, my hand trembling as Momo jumped out of my hand. Pope Timothy suddenly took to his heels, leaving the men who had believed in him to fend for themselves. They ran after him, following him like they had always done after the day’s service. “Blood!” Kate and Anderson chorused as they watched the men scramble in order to meet the Pope.

Pope’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking towards the door as sounds of the brawl outside grew louder, closer. Before I could process what was happening, the knife clattered to the floor and he yanked me backward with both hands, trying to use me as a shield. But Talon didn’t flinch. “Last chance, Pope. Let her go and you walk out of here.” Talon raised his gun, the barrel steady, and fired.

Pope shook his head, "I refuse to follow a man like you who didn’t hesitate in killing a wise and humble leader like our Alpha. You stole Lady Rose’s birthright!" Reed chuckled softly, then held out his hand to show a heart dripping with blood. The crowd watched in confusion as he held it out. Pope’s eyes widened in horror as he felt a sudden pain. He looked down and saw a hole in his chest. Reed sneered. "I do not need you." He crushed the heart in his hand. Pope plopped to the ground completely motionless. The courtyard became quiet, It was as if nature itself mourned the loss.

“A coup needs a corpse. And I cannot do it alone.” Pope stared at the offered blade, then at the man who had owned them, tormented them, and brought them together in this web of sin and survival. He thought of his shop, his old life gone forever. He thought of Alessia’s touch in the dark, her whispered plans for a different life. This was the final line. Not of passion, but of blood. He took the bayonet from her hand. It was cold and heavy. He looked down at Viktor Moretti, Capo dei Capi, king of New Corinth. Then he looked at Alessia, his queen of ice and fire.

“Wooden spears can be useful. Since we’ve got so many trees available here, I suggest each of your men cut themselves a spear. The Miracles, too.” “I’m not sure how good I’d be at throwing a spear,” I say. Kai smiles. “They’re more for stabbing than throwing. A wooden stake can bring down more than a vampire. Keep the spears short—about six feet. They’ll make handy walking sticks, if nothing else.” “You heard the man,” my dad says. “Sergeants, have all the men cut themselves a spear. Miracles, go make yourselves one as well. Do not wander beyond the perimeter, though. There’s plenty of suitable branches close to the road.”

I swam towards the door, and then through it. The Pope stood at the far end of a large room, on a small platform, arms raised in exultation, his face stuck in a moment of delight. Candles with unmoving flames filled alcoves in the walls. The rest of the room was full of his followers, on their knees, bowing down. Tentacles extended from them to the Pope. Not to each other, though, only to him.