THE DEBT OF BLOOD AND SHADOWS

"The parish," I repeated. "Which one?"

"St. Jude’s," Elena said, panic rising in her voice again. "In the old industrial district. Julian trusted the priest there. Father Thomas. He told Mrs. Gable that if anything ever went wrong, she was to take Leo there immediately and not tell a soul."

Marco struggled to sit up on the cot. "St. Jude’s is in Caldwell’s territory. If we go there, we're walking right into his backyard."

"Then we walk into his backyard," I said, grabbing my heavy canvas duffel bag from the trunk of the SUV. I unzipped it, laying out spare magazines and a tactical shotgun. "If Caldwell tracks my movements tonight, he’ll figure out we didn't go to any of my known safehouses. He’ll start looking at Julian’s old connections."

Elena stood up, wincing as her ribs protested. She walked over to the table and picked up a spare 9mm pistol I had laid out. She checked the magazine, slammed it home, and racked the slide.

I looked at her, surprised.

"Julian taught me," she said, catching my look. "I'm not sitting in a boatyard waiting for you to tell me if my son is alive or dead."

"You're injured," I warned. "You'll slow me down."

"He's my son, Dominic. If I have to crawl, I'm coming with you."

I stared at her for a long second, seeing the unyielding steel beneath the bruises. Julian had chosen well.

"Fine. Let's move."

We left Marco with a rifle and strict orders to shoot anyone who came through the door. Elena and I took a stolen sedan from the back of the yard, driving with the headlights off until we reached the main road.

The rain had turned into a torrential downpour, flooding the gutters and turning the streets into slick black mirrors. The drive to St. Jude’s took twenty agonizing minutes.

St. Jude’s was a towering, gothic stone structure that looked like it had been abandoned a century ago. The stained-glass windows were dark. The heavy oak doors were shut tight.

I parked two blocks away, and we approached through the alleyway, keeping to the shadows.

"The side entrance," Elena whispered, pointing to a small, iron-wrought door near the rectory.

We moved quickly. I tried the handle. It was unlocked.

That was the first bad sign. Father Thomas was notoriously paranoid about security in this neighborhood.

I pushed the door open, leading with my gun. The hallway was pitch black, smelling of incense and old paper. The silence was heavy, unnatural.

"Father?" Elena called out, her voice barely a whisper.

No answer.

We moved slowly into the main sanctuary. The only light came from the flickering votive candles near the altar. Rows of wooden pews stretched out in the gloom.

Then I saw it.

Lying in the center aisle, near the altar steps, was a figure in black robes.

"Father Thomas!" Elena gasped, running forward despite her injuries.

I scanned the shadows, weapon raised, as she fell to her knees beside the old priest. He was breathing, but barely. A dark patch of blood was spreading across his chest.

"Elena..." the priest wheezed, his eyes struggling to focus on her face.

"I'm here, Father. Where is he? Where is Leo?" she begged, pressing her hands over his wound.

Father Thomas coughed, a wet, rattling sound. "They... they came. An hour ago. Men with guns."

"Did they take him?" I demanded, kneeling beside them.

The priest shook his head weakly. "No. The boy... he is smart. Like his father. When they broke the door... he ran."

"Where?" Elena cried. "Where did he go?"

Father Thomas reached up with a trembling, bloodstained hand. His fingers closed tightly around a wooden rosary around his neck. He pulled until the string snapped, then pressed the beads into Elena's palm.

"The catacombs," he whispered. "Beneath the crypt. I locked the iron gate behind him. They... they are still looking for him."

Before Elena could ask another question, the heavy wooden doors at the front of the sanctuary blasted open with a deafening crash.

Flashlights sliced through the darkness, blinding us.

"Well, well," a smooth, chilling voice echoed through the cavernous church. "I knew the tracker was a long shot. But I also knew the mother wouldn't stop until she found her cub."