Dust to Dust (9 page)

“Hey! I'm a Leo, too,” Sean told her.

“Yeah, but think about Lucien's dream and all that stuff about kings.”

“Never mind, let's get to this,” Lucien said.

Sean reached over his shoulder and hit a key. Melanie got up and leaned over Maggie's shoulder to see. She was startled when a picture of a church interior popped up on screen. It had been taken just inside the front doorway, but it was heavily detailed and, even on a computer screen, a little frightening. There were scenes of death and martyrdom on all the walls, and the church seemed to have miles of walls.

“Oh, my God,” Maggie said. “People went there for messages of
peace?
” She fingered the beautiful gold cross Sean had given her years ago.

“How odd. It's third century, just outside Rome—very near where a very old friend of mine is living,” Lucien said, reading the accompanying description.

“A friend? One…of
us?
” Melanie asked.

He shook his head. “No, I do know others of us there, but…no, I met a nun there once. She found me, actually, sitting by the Fountain of Trevi. I spoke to her many times. She was very wise, but I haven't thought of her for a long time—until now.”

“You've seen that church—in person?” Sean asked.

“Yes,” Lucien mused. “Yes, I have.” He hesitated and then looked at Melanie thoughtfully. “As I said, I met my friend years ago, in Rome. She lived near this church. She's a nun, and her home is a convent. I was at a rather bad stage, and she helped me a great deal. She told me that I would be needed, but more importantly, that I would be a connection.” He shrugged and quoted again, “‘Thou shalt beget kings, tho' be none.' Your interpretation is right, Sean. I should have seen the connection before.”

“But
you,
as we all know,
are
the king,” Melanie said lightly.

Lucien laughed. Then he grew somber. “You're missing the point. I believe this is bigger than we are, much larger than the Alliance.” He surfed over to Google and keyed in the words
Sister Maria Elizabeta.

They were all stunned when a page full of links popped up.

The very first read Sister Maria Elizabeta—Does a Nun Warn of the Mayan Doomsday Prophecy?

“I think she's been calling me,” Lucien said. “I think she's the dark figure in the catacomb. She needs my help to get you to her. I was just slow to make the connection.”

“Dark forms are often evil,” Maggie warned nervously. “What if…what if we're being led astray?”

Lucien shook his head. “The earth…moved, just as it did when I walked in the catacombs. The earth rolled and woke me, and so is the man I saw in the dream, a man with superhuman strength who's looking for Capricorn, for earth signs.” He stared at Melanie. “We have to help him find her.”

“Darkness can be evil,” Maggie repeated worriedly.

“But she was standing in the light,” Lucien said. He rose. “It's time to find our mystery man.”

 

Blake Reynaldo was true to his word. Along with Judy—but minus Bruno and Miss Tiffany—he was among the first in line to enter when the gates to Hollywood Forever opened for the evening's moviegoers.

The line was huge. Maggie balked at the idea of the
four of them simply butting ahead of everyone, but no one objected when they went to join their friends. The quake was on everyone's mind, so the snatches of conversation they overheard as they walked mostly had to do with
Where were you when it hit?

As Melanie walked past, she looked anxiously through the crowd. She wasn't sure why, but she kept expecting to see the stranger, her cavalier, as she was coming to think of him. It was the darkness of his hair—not that he wore it
that
long. But it was long enough that, against the precision of his features, it gave him the look of a long-ago painting.

She didn't have much time to find him. She was booked out the following evening on the only direct flight from LAX to Rome's Leonardo da Vinci Airport that they had been able to find.

At first she had balked at the idea. But her new tendency to draw pictures she couldn't understand—and then pictures that she understood all too clearly—was already beginning to gnaw at her every thought, and she knew that Lucien was right, that it was important for her to find Sister Maria Elizabeta and see whether she knew anything that might help them decipher what was going on.

But as they neared the front of the line, she wondered what unnerved her most: her drawings or Lucien's dreams.

Or the stranger.

“Hey, one and all,” Blake said, greeting them enthusiastically. Judy was quick with hugs, and thrilled to meet everyone. “Oh, good, we're going in,” Judy said happily.

“This is really…interesting,” Lucien commented as they paid their admission and entered the cemetery. “Beautiful and interesting.”

The cemetery
was
absolutely beautiful: well manicured, with stunning and varied architecture on display in the mausoleums and individual tombstones. Melanie thought they were near the spot where she and the stranger had taken out the thugs holding Viv. Lucien thought the mystery man had to live somewhere nearby, so she still might find him, she thought.

“Check that out,” Sean said suddenly, and walked off. Maggie followed him; Melanie and Lucien followed Maggie. Sean had gone to stare at the pool outside the tomb of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

“Nice way to be buried,” Sean said thoughtfully.

“If being buried can be nice,” Lucien said. “Mel's friends are already up ahead, right in front of the mausoleum wall. Let's join them.”

Blake had brought comforters that he laid out on the ground, and comfy pillows to relax on. He had an ice chest, as well, and Judy had brought crackers and all kinds of cheeses, along with wine and soda. She asked Lucien if he liked red wine, and he winced, then assured her that red was his favorite. Music played while people filed in—more than a thousand, Melanie thought—and while Sean and Maggie relaxed, she—eased back on one of the cushions up against the ice chest, then closed her eyes and tried to take it easy, as well. She could hear Sean and Blake discussing police work in California versus Louisiana, and how natural disasters brought both tragedy and reform. When they started talking
guns, she ceased to listen, opening her eyes and looking around at the audience.

“There.”

Lucien's soft whisper caught her attention, and she followed his line of vision.

And there was her cavalier.

He was with another man and several women, about fifty yards away, near a memorial statue marking the grave of one of the Ramones.

“Hey, Mel. I think we have a few minutes. Let's go see a few graves,” Lucien said. “Maggie, Sean, you want to come?”

“I can show you around,” Blake offered.

“I know the cemetery,” Melanie said hastily. “I'll show them around.”

The four of them got up and started walking, moving casually, just as if they didn't have a specific destination very much in mind.

 

Scott didn't know what it was about the foursome that suddenly made him think of a shoot-out in the old West. It wasn't as if they were decked out in long railway coats or wore holsters slung low on their hips. Still, “posse” was the word that came to his mind.

In fact, at least from a distance, they looked like everybody else in L.A. One man looked to be several years older than the others—maybe mid forties. He was graying, but straight and powerful, and the woman at his side moved with grace, and her face held a timeless beauty. But it was the other two who held his attention. The first was the dark-haired man he'd met
earlier—in person and in his dreams—and the other was the platinum blond beauty he'd fought beside right here in this cemetery.

As they drew closer, it was the dark-haired man—who hailed him—not by name, of course, but with a friendly wave.

“Friends of yours?” Zach asked, tearing his attention away from Suki for a moment.

“Acquaintances,” Scott responded.

The blonde looked embarrassed to be there, but the dark-haired man with the strength to equal his own said, “Out to prove nothing can keep a good Californian down, huh?” he asked.

Scott introduced Zach, Suki and her friends, and then the dark-haired man followed suit.

Scott felt awkward, but apparently no one noticed. As the others talked like old friends, only Melanie Regan stood as silently as he did.

Then, to Scott's astonishment, someone he did know walked over—Officer Blake Reynaldo. “Hey, here's where you all got to! Guess this really is a small world. Zach, Scott, nice to see you again.”

“Officer Reynaldo,” Zach said, surprised to see the cop in a social setting. As big as he was, Zach looked uneasy. But then, Scott knew that Zach was remembering the same thing he was: the night they had been witnesses to murder—and the night when Scott had become someone—or some
thing
—very strange.

The fact that Blake Reynaldo knew him seemed to be of interest to Melanie Regan. She stared at him, frowning curiously.

“What are you out here for, Zach?” Blake asked. “It can't be the case, because that's still a couple of months down the line. But they didn't get parole, so at least they're not out on the street.”

“What happened?” Melanie asked, frowning more deeply but finding her voice at last.

“These guys tried to stop an assault and murder,” Blake said grimly.

“We didn't succeed,” Scott said, not looking at her.

“No, but think of the other people who might have met the same end if you and your friends hadn't been around,” Blake said. “Well, looks like the show is about to begin.” He turned to Melanie and her friends. “We'd better get going.”

“Sure, thanks,” Lucien said. “Hey, Scott, we'll catch up soon.”

Scott kept silent, but Zach answered for him. “You guys may not get a chance to see each other again. Scott's taking off on vacation tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Lucien said.

It had all been so deceptively casual, Scott thought. Friends out for the evening, just happening to run into a casual acquaintance. But everything had suddenly changed. And now Lucien was staring at him very oddly. “What a coincidence. Melanie is heading for Rome tomorrow.”

“Seriously?” Zach said. “That's where Scott is going.”

“You don't happen to be on the Delta non-stop, do you?” Maggie asked.

Scott's gaze shot to Melanie's face and stayed there.
She didn't look happy. In fact, she looked very unhappy. He felt a smile coming to his lips for some perverse reason. “Yes, that's the exact flight I'm on.”

“Quiet, the movie's starting!” someone nearby called.

Melanie came to life. “Sorry, guys. Come on, let's get back. Nice to meet you all,” she added politely.

As the others said their goodbyes, Scott couldn't help himself. He caught Melanie's arm. “Are you an—earth sign, by any chance?” he asked her.

She stared back at him. “I don't know what you're talking about,” she said.

Whatever else she was, she wasn't a good liar. His smile deepened. “You are, aren't you? I've been looking for you.”

“The movie is starting—I have to go,” she said, and stared down at his hand on her arm. “Let go. We're in a public place.”

“So we are.”

She gave him an icy smile. “Don't make me kick the crap out of you, right here in front of all your friends.”

He laughed. “Is that a dare?”

“A friendly warning,” she told him.

He released her, still smiling. “It's all right. We have a twelve-hour flight tomorrow to get to know each other.”

“Sorry, I'm in first class.”

“Perfect. So am I.”

“Shush!” someone demanded off to their left.

Lucien set an arm around Melanie's shoulders. “Scott, see you when it's over. We'll have a drink.”

“Sure,” Scott agreed, not seeing any way out of it, and curiosity getting the better of him.

“And yes,” Lucien said, drawing Melanie away. “She is an earth sign—Virgo.”

 

Melanie didn't begin to understand her own fear of getting to know Scott.

There was her original question, of course: who or what was he?

The man Lucien had seen in a dream. A dream of the catacombs and the long dead.

A man capable of blinding speed and an extremely effective fighter.

But what else?

The answer to that question couldn't be discovered unless she got to know him. As she watched the images on the wall of the mausoleum, and accepted wine and cheese from Judy, she tried to understand her own dread of what was to come. She had accepted and even embraced what she had thought was her place in the world, all made easier because of Lucien, first, and then Maggie, Sean, Jade and the many other members of the Alliance. But Scott wasn't one of them. Scott didn't know about the Alliance, and he certainly wasn't part of it. She wondered if, for the first time, she was afraid of someone discovering the truth about her—and loathing her for it. Admittedly, plenty of people would loathe her for what she was, but the truth was that they would never find out. And even if they did, they might not believe, and even if they
did
believe, she wouldn't really care what they thought of her.