WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations by Kathryn Veque (top 20 books to read .TXT) 📗

that wanted to make sure Camilla was protected, even if she really didn’t care what happened to Aurelia.

As far as she was concerned, her cousin would get what she deserved.

They were getting closer to the river now. Gavriella could smell the fish and the rot as it radiated off the River Thames. She had noted that smell earlier in the week because her aunt had taken her to the street of the merchants, which was near the river itself. That rotted river smell seemed to permeate everything it could touch.

Thoughts of smells and stupid cows were pushed aside as she noticed a silhouette against the backdrop of the moonlit sky. She could see a bell tower and walls that clearly indicated a church, but as they drew closer, Gavriella could see that there was no roof on the church. It was derelict. The walls looked like great rib bones of a dead and desolate beast, eerily dark, and Aurelia took them onto a smaller street that ran alongside the church to the east. They stayed close to the walls of that burned-out church, making their way in the darkness until they came to a massive door built into the side of the building.

Aurelia knocked twice, two heavy knocks, several seconds apart. The response wasn’t immediate and as they stood there, eyes darting nervously about the darkness, fog began to roll in from the river. They could see it snaking through the street and alleyways and cresting over the tops of the buildings like the wave of a great storm. Something about that fog rolling in over the darkened streets of London gave them a measure of apprehension.

Gavriella watched the fog edge closer and closer. Aurelia lifted her hand and knocked in the same fashion again, two heavy knocks with a long pause between. As the fog grew closer, encroaching on them, Gavriella felt Camilla lean into her fearfully. The fogs of London were known to be extraordinarily thick at times and if a truly heavy fog rolled in, it would be difficult to see their hands in front of their faces. No one wanted to get caught in a fog like that.

Evil things lurked in fog.

Especially in the darker side in London.

Just as the fog began to roll over the skeleton of the old church, the door opened. Two very large men, heavily armed, were standing in the opening. They looked at the three women huddled there without a hint of warmth or welcome in their expressions.

“Da verbum,” one man growled.

Aurelia was without fear. “Gomorrah.”

“Name?”

“De Kennet. Earl of Blackburn.”

Like magic, the men took her coinage and backed away, permitting the women to enter. Just as the fog enveloped the burned-out ruins, the heavy door was shut behind them. But for a small torch on the wall, they were in complete darkness.

It felt like a tomb.

One of the men pushed past them and took the torch off the wall.

“Come,” he said.

The man led them through a small, dark corridor and towards a stairwell that led down into the depths beneath the old church. As Gavriella’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see that they were in a sublevel beneath the floor of the old church.

There were tombs down here, and crypts, from long-forgotten burials. The smell of rot was heavy down here, the dampness thick. London had a high water table, which meant that not many things were built below ground, but places like churches often built vaults beneath them to accommodate burials.

This was one of those places. Beneath the old church, an entire world was opening up.

Gavriella tapped Camilla on the shoulder.

“Where are we?” she hissed.

Camilla glanced at her as they were heading down the stairs. “This is the old church of St. Dunstan’s,” she whispered. “The Lords of Camberwell own it now because the church believes this property to be cursed. Down below this level are the remains of an ancient Roman temple dedicated to the god Eros. Camberwell has turned those ruins and catacombs into a guild that is so exclusive, so secretive, that only the fortunate few know about it.”

Gavriella looked at her with some apprehension. “A guild? What kind of guild?”

“Fantasy,” Aurelia said. They had reached the bottom of the stairwell and were now in a small chamber where women dressed in filmy, gauzy garments came forward. They put a glorious mask on Aurelia’s face. “This is a guild where you can live out whatever fantasy you wish and do so without fear of recognition and retribution. You can do anything, say anything, be anything, but keep your mask on at all times. If you are here, you are not meant to be known or recognized.”

The same women who had put the mask on Aurelia were now putting one on Gavriella. It was a wooden mask, painted elaborately like the upper part of a cat’s face – nose and eyes only. The mask had jewels set within it and feathers for whiskers. In truth, it was astonishingly beautiful and fastened onto Gavriella’s head with red silken ribbons.

She was unsure about the mask, her fingers flitting over it, as she looked at Camilla, whose mask resembled a mouse. Aurelia had one that looked like a proud peacock, with great peacock feathers on it.

“I do not understand,” Gavriella said. “What kind of fantasy?”

Aurelia smiled at her, but it wasn’t a pleasant gesture. She reached out and took Gavriella’s hand.

“Come,” she said quietly. “Let me show you.”

The same young women who had put masks on their faces then proceeded to open a heavy, iron reinforced door. Aurelia led Gavriella into the next room but not before Gavriella realized that the women in the thin, gauzy clothing were naked underneath. One could see right through their clothing to their young, nubile bodies beneath. They, too, were wearing masks so no one could see who they were.

As Gavriella would soon realize, it was all part of the fantasy element.

As soon as she passed through the door with Aurelia leading the way,