Tomorrow was the first of April.

Judas’s birthday.

The day of her death.

“Jane?”

She turned to look at Caleb in the seat next to her. “Four hours. I have to tell him where we’ll meet in the desert. He wants the exchange by five tomorrow evening.” She tried to keep her voice even. “He doesn’t want me to be late for the Offering. That wouldn’t be polite.”

Caleb muttered a curse. “He got to you.”

“No… Yes.” Her lips were trembling. “He’s such a monster. They’re all such monsters. Sometimes I can’t believe it. Blasphemer. They keep using that word. Cults and sacrifices and archaic words that shouldn’t even exist any longer. They should all be in the Dark Ages. It doesn’t seem real. I thought it was bad the night that Celine died, but it’s been going on so long. Tomorrow will be eight days, Caleb. Every minute has been like a dagger stabbing at me.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m ready for it to be over.”

“And it will be.” His hands were gently cupping her face. “You’ll go through it all and come out clean and bright. It will be fine. I promise you.”

“I’ll be better soon.” She should move away from him, but she felt warm and treasured with his hands cupping her cheeks. She needed to feel as if she was more than the pawn in Millet’s dirty game. “I have to think how we’ll be able to handle this. I should call Roland, but nothing is clear right now.”

“It will be clear soon.” He was looking down into her eyes. His own eyes were dark and soft, and she couldn’t look away from them. So much gentleness, so much sensuality, so much intensity, that she was caught, held. It was flowing over her, around her, within her.

His hands left her face and moved to her shoulders. “Stop fighting. You don’t have to be strong right now. It’s not going to make any difference. I’m the only one here, and I’ll never judge you.” He was pulling her close. “You helped me. Now let me help you.”

She could hear his heart beneath her ear, and she didn’t move. She was safe, wonderfully content, enfolded in velvet darkness.

“That’s right, Jane,” he whispered. “Come dream with me…”

TWENTY

MILLET IS COMING, EVE thought hazily. She could hear his footsteps on the marble tiles in the hall. Concentrate. She had to focus. It was difficult with her shoulder throbbing with hot pain. Fever. It must be getting infected.

Ignore it. She had to concentrate on doing what Jane needed from her.

“You and your dear Jane are going to be reunited,” Millet said mockingly as he unlocked the door and entered the room. “She’s going to do the right thing and save you from the knife like a good daughter. I couldn’t wait to rush here and tell you.”

“Because you knew it would hurt me.” She slowly sat up on the cot. “You’re chock-full of malice and satisfaction and who better to share it with than a victim?”

His smile faded. “But you’re not giving me all the satisfaction that I hoped. Where is your fear? I thought that if I gave you time alone, you’d have to time to think and anticipate.”

“And dread?” She met his gaze. “Because it doesn’t matter what deal you struck with Jane. You’re not going to let me go. You’ll kill me the minute you get your hands on Jane.”

“That’s not true,” he said softly. “I won’t have time to toy with her before the Offering. I feel cheated. It’s only right that I keep you alive for a short while to amuse me.”

“And then I’ll end up on the altar, too?”

“A private Offering. It will be convenient. You’re here. Your death might as well be dedicated to the Master. His light will shine brighter on me.”

“How can you believe that?”

“How can I not? Look how far I’ve climbed. In the village, I lived with a father and mother who beat me and told me that I would never climb out of that dungheap. Now I’m the Guardian. I can have anything or anyone that pleases me. It had to be Judas showing his pleasure in everything I do.”

She shook her head. “You just changed dungheaps.”

His lips tightened. “Arrogant bitch. You’re just like Jane MacGuire.”

“Thank you.” She had to curb her tongue. This wasn’t the way to find out anything but what a degenerate scumbag he was. She was silent a moment. “You think you’re king of this pile of crap you call a temple. When you brought me here, I didn’t see anything impressive about it. It’s small, not much ornamentation, a copy of a dozen other temples I saw in Greece. That makes you king of nothing.”

His cheeks flushed. “It’s magnificent. Hadar said we had no need of pomp. We have the Offering Room, and that’s all that’s important to Judas.”

“And your glorious Offering Room is probably as unimpressive as the rest of this place. You made sure I didn’t see it when we came here.” She added deliberately, “As unimpressive as you must be when you make your so-called Offering. Do they laugh at you, Millet?”

He was cursing beneath his breath. She had thought that last taunt would tip the balance.

He strode toward her and jerked her off the cot to her feet. “They worship me. They know how important I am. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes were glittering, and his grip on her arm was bruising. “But I’ll show you. You’ll see where your Jane MacGuire is going to die. You’ll see where you’re going to die.” He was pulling her toward the door. “You’ll see all the power and feel the souls who have gone before you.”

Good. He was taking her from the room. For a moment she had been afraid she would only loose that sadistic streak. It had been a precarious balance. “You don’t have to pull me. I’m not fighting you.”

He released her, then frowned as he saw her sway. “You’re weak. Can you walk?”

“I can walk.” She got her balance and headed for the door. She was weak. Ignore it, she said to herself. “I have a little fever.”

“What? Not as strong as you thought you were?” He opened the door. “Come along. I can’t wait to see a little more of that strength crumble.”

The corridor was straight, with no doors on either side. High ceilings, with a coffered stone inset. Guards. They turned left at the end of the corridor and went a hundred yards, then faced a huge arched doorway guarded by another two men dressed in black leather.

How many other guards had they passed? Two at her door. Four on the long corridor. I’m trying, Jane.

Millet gestured mockingly for her to precede him through the arched doorway. “The Offering Room.”

She went through the doorway and stopped in shock. It looked like a small stadium, with at least forty rows of stone benches. In the center was a black granite altar facing a wall on which the Judas mosaic hovered like a dark vulture.

“I told you. It’s magnificent, isn’t it?” Millet asked. He pointed to a spot on the left side of the altar. “That’s where I stand. Where all the audience can see me.” He smiled. “And the Offering can see me. In that moment, they know I’m a god. Able to take their life or give it. I can see it in their eyes.” He held Eve’s gaze. “I’ll see that look in her eyes.”

She tore her eyes away from him to the far left, where a ramp led into the stadium. “Where does that go?”

“Outside. No member is permitted in the temple until the time of the Offering. Then they can only come to the stadium. They have to understand that they may have power in their own world, but here I’m the only power.”

“As long as you stay Guardian. What if they boot you out?”

“That won’t happen. I keep my eye on anyone who seems unstable. They have accidents. Or become candidates for the Offering.”

“But you were afraid of the consequences if they found out you’d lost Hadar’s Tablet.”

He scowled. “I wasn’t afraid. It was a matter that had to be addressed. The tablet is considered holy. I’ll find a way to get it back after I get rid of the MacGuire woman.”