Chapter 28 #2
Hart rests his hand on back. “Get some sleep.”
Like some holy relic, Hart holds the piece of paper. “Did we miss our turn?”
“Tell me again what happened,” Rett says to Hart. “Bizzy said she wanted to leave? Why wouldn’t she tell JJ or me?”
“I told you. She asked Deo to get her a ride to the airport.” His voice is nonchalant as he shields his eyes from the sun, studying the street signs.
“That’s not weird to you?” I ask, still grappling with decisions I have to make.
“I don’t know.”
“You have a personal opinion on most things, but not on that?” Rett asks him, giving me a pointed look.
“Give me the note,” I tell Hart.
It reads:
Time never ending, forces unseen
The Sentinels four, in font of green,
Likeness shrouded for protection, an echo from the past
Heed warnings harken - don’t look back
Two steps from the angel on the mezzanine coal black
Water runs pristine
Eight in the House will intervene.
When the jaws of time open wide
Mouths not to speak, clues to guide
Destruction marches forward, a veiled threat to all
To break the cycle, to stop the fall
Eternal Triad can end evil untold
Because time never ending, salvation will uphold
Sacrifice the one, deny the four, kneel the Sentinels, the eight to fight.
Smother the darkness, shed the light.
“And you think ‘the angel on mezzanine coal black’ is the stretch of road before that fountain, because of an old song?” My head is pounding. And I’d dearly love to punch Hart’s smirky face.
Maybe he’ll get hit by a car while pacing by the fountain.
Classic Hart. Wildly unlikeable.
Hart huffs off to the driver Deo secured today. “You’re really nailing geographical locations today.” He shoves his phone in his face. “This is where we need to go.”
We set off again, heading toward a fountain by a church south of the city.
“Have you talked to her?” I ask Rett quietly.
He shakes his head, frowning. “Her phone goes straight to voicemail.”
I bequeath unto you…
…my heart, my life…
Anger wells up inside me.
The House of Eights doesn’t own me. I get to choose how to live my life. Don’t I?
Rett says, “I don’t trust Hart.”
Oh. Good. It's not just me.
Once we are deposited in a dingy old section of town, I look at Hart. “Let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go left, you go fuck yourself.”
Deo and Rett follow me. Hart glares after us.
“It’s fun, innit?” Deo says, jogging behind me.
What part is fun? The revelations that have me panicking, the aimless hunting, or my headache?
Sadly, I think Bizzy could’ve helped. She has a background in art history. She might be familiar with statues, fountains…
Then it hits me.
I close my eyes and concentrate. We talked about… the sacristy designed by Brunelleschi, northwest of Santa Maria del Fiore. It was built for the Medici family. There is a special black material that leads to a… that has to be it.
Do I tell them?
I turn, heading back toward Hart. “I know where we need to go.”
When I start to explain it to him, “Bizzy was telling me—”
“Skip to the end,” he interrupts, the words an order.
While I explain, he pulls it up on his phone, a look of determination on his face.
Deo grimaces. “That’s a trek. I know it.”
The talk in the car revolves around Deo’s ancestors, but I’m stuck on a conversation Bizzy and I had about a piece of art with an intense depiction of doomed love. It sparked talk of the mausoleum they were laid in, near the fountain.
Doomed love like the one I have for her.
My life isn’t going to allow it.
“Why won’t she answer?” Rett asks me as he tries Bizzy again.
Soren turns to him. “She probably understands it’s over.”
“What’s over?” He asks, confused.
Hart shakes his head. “You didn’t think…”
“Rett, the dreams? Now that we’ve seen the picture, it looks exactly like Liz Timms. Elizabeth was never Bizzy. We have a duty.”
God, even saying that out loud feels wretched.
“A duty?” He looks at me wild-eyed. “Are you as fucking crazy as him?” He jerks his thumb in Hart’s direction.
“Without condemning or condoning it, I understand,” Soren says.
Trying to keep my voice calm, I tell Rett, “if we don’t… protect,” I choke on the next words. “Serve and love Elizabeth, life is only going to get worse.”
Hard to believe when I feel bludgeoned in the chest.
“Not to mention, Bizzy is the threat,” Hart says.
No. I’ll never believe she’d deliberately hurt us.
“You can’t tell me who to care about,” Rett says emphatically.
The ride to the Medici property grows silent. Each of us is weighing the situation.
What if we still find nothing?
When do we give up?
Walking up the path to the gate, Hart stops Rett and me.
“I don’t think either of you get it. Rippley tried to tell you. Bizzy is the threat. She faked being sick and dying with him. She was lying. Why do you think she ran off? She must’ve heard us talking to Dr. Wiley. She made fools of you both.”
We hang back as the other three continue through the gates toward the fountain.
“Sick? Did she ever tell you?”
I can’t swallow.
His voice sounds defeated. “No. She didn’t.”
Breaking over the crest of the hill, we see Hart is back to bossing everyone around. He isn’t interested in anyone but himself.
Then we all step forward and watch as Hart paces out two steps from the angel statue mounted on the fountain towards the stream called Immacolato (the Italian word for pristine). He drops to his knees, digging where a small rise exists in the soil.
“Help me. Don’t just stand there,” he barks.
I want no part in this.
It feels wrong.
Everything does.
Soren and Deo dig with him. Through the loamy soil, nearly three feet down, they uncover a plain-looking leather messenger bag.
Hart hastily wipes his hands on his pants before setting the bag on the ground beside the hole he’d yanked it from. He pulls out an object roughly a foot long, wrapped in burlap.
A gold cylinder cipher.
Triumphant, they high-five each other and celebrate.
While our hearts break into smithereens.
Resigning myself to the fact that we almost destroyed not only the House and its members, but everything we hoped to defend. The balance.
I’m not going to pretend I’m thrilled.
Or that I’m not suffering under the weight of this new knowledge.
Hart says to me, “JJ, you did it.”
Did what? Fall in love with the woman I’m supposed to believe is my enemy? Possibly pass along information she needed? Oh, I know… believe a load of lies.
“We did it. Now we have a starting point. The hunt was worth it,” Hart says, shaking the cylinder.
You’ve been dragging me around like a dirty dish rag. Fuck right off.
Rett looks as shell-shocked as I feel, mechanically packing everything up. I keep thinking about Biz. What we did here… why? Why would she target us?
I throw my jacket on, shoving my hand into the pocket. Feeling a piece of paper, I pull it out.
A sketch of a tear falling from an eye.
In case my mind forgets and my heart stops beating. I’ll be yearning in every life, every dimension, for our love.
Flipping it over, I see Rett’s name and mine.
Tears spill over. I stuff it back in my pocket.
I’m not sure how to move forward.
Waiting for our ride to the airport, Rett and I stand in the grand main entrance. His reddened eyes are more than enough to tell me he’s struggling, too. I hand him the note.
“This...” He swallows. “She…” He can’t finish. He slips the note into his pocket.
The car pulls up. I take a deep breath.
The cipher sits on the marble table beside Deo’s bag. I place my hand on it and roll it back and forth.
Suddenly, an impression slams into me. My stomach drops.
No! It can’t be.
With a shaky hand, I pick it up.
“...begging you not to do this. Please. He’s right. My God, he’s actually right about this.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. Her hand on my forearm.
Sadness… devastation.
Everything will change now.
Blood-curdling screams grow closer.
Sacrifice the one…
What have we done?
** The House of Eights series continues with
Don’t Hold On
Book 2 Coming Fall 2026**