Gates of Paradise (Blue Bloods 7)

“This is called the apprentice column,” the tour guide said, coming around to stand next to a nearby pillar. “An apprentice boasted to the master mason that he could carve the design without consulting the original on which it was based. When the master saw that the apprentice had done the work perfectly, he became so enraged with jealousy that he struck the apprentice on the head and killed him. When the master was hauled off to justice, the remaining masons carved an exact replica of his face on the column across from this one,” she said, motioning to the other post, which held the visage of a scowling man. “So that forever, the master would be forced to gaze at the perfect work of the apprentice that had caused him so much pain.”

Creepy, Mimi thought. But justifiable. She remembered the hot fire of jealousy that she’d once felt over Jack’s attraction to Schuyler. If she had never met Kingsley, she probably would have suffered the same doom—forced to endure the reality of the two of them together till the end of time.

The small group chattering in myriad languages shuffled by her on their way to the crypt. Mimi didn’t follow. Wherever the grail was held—and it certainly wasn’t that jeweled cup displayed at the center of the chapel—it wouldn’t be there. The crypt was too obvious. The knights would have made sure it was well hidden.

Look someplace where no one else can look. Find a place no one knew existed.

She walked back outside, circling the chapel in a wide arc. The exterior on each side was composed of a series of flying buttresses that supported the tall center space. In between each one was a stained glass rose window. The stone was sandy in color and worn from erosion.

Mimi looked up and realized she probably should have paid attention to the boring tour. There was something odd about the chapel, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. She stepped back, the pebbles crunching beneath her heels.

There was a rough-hewn wall that extended higher than the rest of the building, giving it a lopsided look. The wall was ragged at its edges, as if indicating a temporary construction. Unfinished. Mimi circled the wall, imagining it as a blade that had chopped the chapel in half. When she touched it, the stone was cold and mossy. She walked back to the other side, the lower side, and saw that it had none of the buttresses that lined the other wall.

“The chapel that stands at Rosslyn is only a small fraction of what the original builders intended,” a voice said behind her.

Mimi turned to see another tour guide. She was a nun, Mimi realized, from the cross on her lapel. “What was it supposed to look like?”

“The buttressed end was to be the choir, the portion of the building behind the altar. The long cathedral nave where parishioners would have sat was never built. The wall on that side was only supposed to be temporary, like a bandage slapped over the unfinished end,” the nun explained. “They dug up the foundations for the remainder of the building in the nineteenth century. It would have been quite spectacular if it had been finished.”

Just like St. John the Divine in New York, Mimi thought. The site of her almost-bonding. So much ambition and hubris, so many unfinished churches in the world.

“We’ll be closing soon. Feel free to take a walk around, then meet me at the gate. Your group should be leaving the crypt by then.” The nun smiled again, but not so warmly this time. The old woman looked a bit tired and maybe eager to finish her day.

When she walked away, Mimi headed to the place where she guessed the buried foundations were located. She knew where the crypt would be, ending just outside of the building’s footing.

If I were a Knight Templar, where would I hide the grail?

In a place where no one would ever even think to look, perhaps?

Maybe there was more to this structure—something a nineteenth-century conservator wouldn’t even think to look for. She went back and stood at the edge of the rough-hewn wall, the place where the chapel would have continued it if had been completed.

She squinted, and in the dim light she finally saw it. The nave. Hiding in plain sight. One moment she was outside, and the next she was standing within an elegant cathedral.

Impossible, Mimi thought. I’m not in the glom and not in Rosslyn, so where am I?

“The wolves call it Limbo. Their historical realm before they were turned into Lucifer’s dogs. The nun was wrong—the chapel was built as intended, but not on earth and not by man.”

Mimi knew the voice. She turned to the Venator standing behind her. He had come through, just as she had hoped. But she kept her face calm.

“It took me a long time to find the magic needed to unearth the hidden portion of the chapel. Lucky you, to show up and take advantage of my work.” He was holding a cup by its lip, letting it dangle from his hands.

“Looking for this?” Kingsley asked with his usual smirk.

FIFTEEN

Bliss

he thing that had gotten hold of Renfield was a crimson-eyed vampire that bared its fangs and drank deeply from the blood gushing from the poor historian’s throat. Renfield’s legs kicked feebly in the air, and he gurgled as the life was drained out of him.

“Renfield!” Bliss shouted, and ran forward.

But before she could reach him, Lawson darted in front of her and shoved her out of the way. He was strong, even in human form, and she skidded across the floor, safely out of reach from the monster in front of them.

What had she been thinking? She wasn’t a vampire anymore; she didn’t have the strength to stand up to the demon that had attacked Renfield. A Silver Blood in the Repository—it brought back memories of that other attack not too long ago.

The demon dropped Renfield’s body to the ground as Lawson lunged at the beast from behind. Bliss frantically searched for a weapon, anything that could help Lawson, who was now wrestling with the monster. The Silver Blood had the upper hand, its fangs outstretched, hungry for the kill. It would tear Lawson apart.…

Lawson suddenly shifted form, and in a moment he was his true self. Fenrir. The mightiest wolf of the underworld. The change startled the Silver Blood, and the demon roared and jumped back from Lawson, who pawed the ground and growled. They paced around one another, each waiting for the other to attack first.