Rafael: Destined Archangels III

Chapter 5: Sneak

Everly

“Are you sure about this? I mean, I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I ask Franco as he punches the code into the security system and opens the doors. Looking back out, I see the rain steadily falling across the velvety sky.

“It’ll be fine.” Franco takes my hand and leads me inside the monastery’s back door.

I nearly stumble as he hastens me forward. Thankfully, I prepared for this sojourn. I wore a comfortable rain jacket, black shirt, yoga pants, and slip-on shoes.

Heart thrumming with excitement, I glance around the empty monastery. Val and Sami would definitely love this place. Since I arrived in Spain, I’ve texted them several times, but communication has been sparse, considering how busy we all are. I think we’ll visit this place again once our research is over, I check it off in my mental list as Franco, and I turn a corner.

The hallowed halls are ominous at night, with creepy shadows flowing across the dark marble floors and the rain pushing against the large windows.

The sounds of our steps blend with the steady staccato of the rain as we stroll down the winding hallway and traverse past the bookshelves until we reach a door that leads to a gothic winding stairway.

“Through here,” Franco whispers.

We go up several floors until we reach a large wooden door. Franco opens the door and waves for me to enter. I see a hallway with rows of bookshelves in the middle of the room and two office doors on the right side.

Franco points to one of the polished doors and mutters, “That’s Dr. Serrano’s office. The restricted area is through the other door. Let’s go.”

The restricted area is small, with ancient texts stored in temperature-neutral containers. Franco hands me a pair of latex gloves and slides on his own.

While I gather what I need, Franco paces around the room.

“Hey, what’s this?” he asks, picking up a palm-sized crystal from nearby shelves.

Walking toward him, I look at the dull cream-colored crystal shaped like a hexagon and take it from his hand. The crystal begins to glow like a prism as soon as I do. Franco gasps and takes it from my hand, but it stops glowing, “How did you do that?” he asks, confused.

I'm at a loss when I take the crystal back because it begins to glow again, “I don’t know. This is weird.”

I hand him back the crystal and move toward a shelf, “Well, whatever it is, it’s not what we’re searching for, so put it back before you break it.”

Brow furrowed, he appraises the crystal before setting it down on a nearby shelf and helps me find the information I need, “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

I showed him the information I had brought from Christ’s tomb.

We sort through scrolls and books for nearly an hour until I stumble upon an old leather binder stacked beneath various books strewn across one of the tables. I open the binder and see yellowing architectural etchings containing symbols similar to the ones at the Sepulchre’s seal. The binder belonged to Jesus’ apostle, Andrew, and depicts a myriad of hand-drawn paintings with all twelve apostles.

“It looks like Michaelangelo’s depictions on the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling, doesn’t it?” Franco states.

I nod as I look through each drawing.

“What do you think?”I ask Franco while carefully pulling out each page and laying it on the dark oak table.

Franco shrugs, “Andrew was one of Jesus’s first apostles. But I have no clue what this is about.”

I notice wavering lines around the corner of each picture as I pull out each parchment. It’s also odd that each apostle seems to be pointing at something.

“Look, they’re all pointing,” I tell franco.

Franco quirks a curious brow, “That is odd,” he traces his finger across certain parts of the page, “look at their clothing. They each have symbols of some kind painted on their chests. I’ve never seen those symbols.”

Stepping back, I appraise each sheet. A thought strikes me, “Okay, so Andrew was Jesus’s first apostle. The second one was Peter,” I say as I lay the picture beside the other. As soon as I do, the lines in the corner of the pictures connect.

“Do you see that?” I ask Franco.

Franco nods, “Put James and John next.”

I do as Franco says and see that they also connect. We work a few minutes putting all twelve apostles together until we finish.

“It’s a map,” I mutter.

Franco gazes down, “But of what?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a city or country shaped like this.

I take pictures using my cell phone but stop when I hear voices and footsteps outside the doors.

“s**t… hide,” Franco says.

Eyes wide, I gather all the documents, put them back on a nearby shelf, and follow Franco.

My heart pounds as we sneak behind one of the shelves. The voices become clearer, and I instantly recognize Dr. Serrano’s voice. However, I don’t recognize the male voice.

“I know you said it’s going to take some time, but you must find those seals,” the man states angrily.

Franco and I observe from one of the shelve’s openings and see as Dr. Serrano angrily turns to the man, “Don’t you think we’re trying. I even have that fool, Dr. Cranston’s graduate student doing research,” she puffs out an angry breath, her short curls bouncing with her agitation as she growls, “I don’t know why the society put Cranston in charge of the dig in The Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I would have been better qualified than that hack.”

The male moves into the dim light, making it easy to see him. He is probably in his fifties with coffee-colored skin, dark ebony hair, and average-sized. Based on his features, I would say he’s middle eastern.

“Enough, Marta!” he calls out, cuttingly, “This guessing game isn’t working, and The Hand of God is running out of patience.”

Dr. Serrano strolls across the room and stops before the window, “Did you check the monasteries on the list I gave you?”

The man slaps his palm roughly against the table’s surface, shattering the table's contents.

“We have, but it’s not working. We must stop guessing which monasteries have the seals and find the actual places.”

Dr. Serrano places her hands on her hips and glares, “It’s not like The Hand of God has given me anything to go by, Dr.Nassir. And since I do not have access to the Holy Sepulchre grave, I cannot gauge what information we need. I just need to see the seal and─”

“Enough!”Dr. Nassir growls and takes Dr. Serrano by the neck with a hiss, “You need to do your bloody job and find the seals, Marta. You know what happens to people no longer useful to The Hand of God, right?”

Before Dr. Serrano can reply, something rolling off the shelf and hitting the floor sounds beside me. Looking back, startled, I meet Franco’s pale face and watch in horror as the crystal he held earlier rolls to my feet.

“What’s that?” Dr. Nassir hisses as he stomps toward us.

Unfortunately, Franco and I stand there like deers caught in the headlights since the way out is past Dr. Serrano and her companion.

My stomach churns, and my heart speeds up when Dr. Nassir rounds the shelf and spots us.

His lip curls into a sneer, and his eyes narrow as he stares us down, “Well, what have we here?”

Dr. Serrano stops beside him and glares, “What are you two doing here? You know this is a restricted area?”

Franco nods, “Yeah, we know…it’s just…we….” he reaches for the crystal and nervously lifts it to a nearby shelf as he answers, “D-Dr. Serrano, we were just─”

The crystal slips my fingers and begins to roll, but before it can fall, I catch it, and it begins to glow again.

Dr. Serrano and Dr. Nassir gasp as soon as it begins to glow.

“Do you see that?” Dr. Nassir murmurs excitedly, “I’ve never seen a hunter’s stone glow that color. She must be quite powerful. Who are you?” he asks.

I know I should answer him, but his maniacal look gives me pause.

Dr. Serrano arches a brow and answers for me, “This is Dr. Cranston’s intern, Everly.”

Dr. Nassir steps forward, making me stumble back. Something about his demeanor tells me I shouldn’t let him touch me, so I back away.

Franco takes my hand and mutters, “We should go and let you finish your conversation.”

Before we step, Dr. Nassir takes a gun out and aims it at us.

Franco freezes in place and gasps.

“Give me the stone,” Dr. Nassir orders.

I look at Franco before I carefully hand over the glowing stone.

Dr. Serrano examines the stone and growls, “Where did you find this?”

I shake my head, “W-w-we were just looking at it.”

Franco nods, “I swear we don’t have anything else. We’ll…we’ll go now.”

To my shock, Dr. Serrano shakes her head and says, “You’re not going anywhere.”

A gunshot rings before I reply, and Franco falls to the ground.

“Franco!” I cry out, reaching for him.

Franco’s head rests on my lap, blood pouring from his wound and lips as he takes his last breath.

I stumble back when Dr. Nassir aims his gun at me.

“You killed him!” I cry out tearfully.

“He’s of no use to me. However, you are!” he grits out, “Now, get up, you cunt!”

Dr. Serrano looks on dispassionately as I carefully lay Franco’s head on the floor and rise. Blood coats my chest and hands, and tears fall down my face.

“Do you think she’s powerful?” Dr. Serrano asks.

Dr. Nassir nods, “If the stone's color is to go by, she’s quite powerful.”

My brow furrows at their byplay. However, I don’t waste time questioning their conversation because I know that if I don’t leave that room, I will die too.

Just as Dr. Nassir steps toward me, I grip one of the books on the shelf and toss it at him. As the gun slips from his hand, I kick Dr. Serrano's wrist and elbow in the face before running out of the room. Unfortunately, I can’t exit because Nassir rushes forward and blocks my way. Turning the other way, I run toward the shelves, seeing Dr. Serrano step out of the room with the gun in her hand.

Shots ring out behind me, making me wince as I traverse the shelves. Heart pounding like a drum, I hide behind one of the shelves and listen as they come closer. Just as Dr. Serrano turns into the shelf before me, I push the shelf and run. The sound of the shelf falling down, accompanied by her outraged cry ringing across the room, gives me time to find an escape. However, the activity does not stop Dr. Nassir as he approaches me.

I try to find an exit, but the only way to get out is through the window. Seeing no choice, I open the window and carefully step out.

“Get back here, you supernatural b***h!” Dr. Nassir calls out from the window. Rain pelts me on every side as I step around the narrow ledge.

When shots ring out around me, I know I’m in trouble. I try to protect my body, but my hold is precarious, and I slip. Closing my eyes, I cry out as I plummet to my death.