Chapter Thirteen:
The monastery sat atop a hill so large it only just fell short of being a very small mountain. It was only accessible by a long and twisting dirt path that, even if their taxi driver had been willing to drive it (which he wasn't), narrowed so much as it went that the car would have been stuck halfway up. The building was an impressive structure, with high white walls that shielded the inner structures from view until Michelle and Theresa joined forces to shove one of the heavy, wooden doors inward.
"Whoa," Michelle breathed, gazing around the spacious grounds.
Theresa was struck mute by the monastery, but not because of its cobblestone walkways or vaulted ceilings. She was speechless because she was absolutely certain that she had been there before even though, of course, there was no way she could have since she'd never been to that part of the world before. And, yet…
Yet she knew every weathered, wooden stair and every low awning. She knew that archway, there, lead to the monastery's stables while the nail-studded door opposite lead to a kitchen where a large wooden stove would have baked dozens of loaves of bread every week for the monks who once lived there.
Logic told Theresa that she couldn't know these things, but her heart told her that she did. She knew that the second and third stories, with their open-air walkways, were made up of small, simple rooms where the monks had slept. She knew that catacombs started beneath the spot where they now stood and ran all the way back down to what the taxi driver had called "the Church of Lost Souls."
And she knew, without the smallest doubt, that Vlad was somewhere within the monastery's high walls.
Theresa could feel Vlad's presence the way the earth felt the pull of the moon. Though she had spent less than an hour with him, Vlad already controlled the ebb and flow of Theresa's life. She couldn't deny that it thrilled her every bit as much as it terrified her.
Perhaps, she was ashamed to admit, a little more.
"Wonder where everyone is?" Michelle asked. Dropping her bags on the ground, she shielded her eyes from the setting sun as she looked around the monastery's courtyard.
Timothy dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. He took a few steps away as he waited for an answer.
The courtyard was well-manicured and neat, with tidy flower beds and hanging plants, but there was no proof of human activity to be seen. Theresa had to smother a shiver that climbed up her back. She could have sworn that there were eyes on her but, scanning the long, covered walkways, she saw no one. It was unsettling, to say the least.
"I've just spoken to Alec," Timothy said, rejoining them.
Michelle gave Theresa a look. "Alec?" she said.
Timothy turned a brilliant shade of scarlet and cleared his throat. "Ahem, Mr. Devac," he corrected.
"Uh huh," Michelle said, rolling her eyes.
"Where is he, Timothy?" Theresa asked irritably. She was going on four days without a decent night's sleep. It was starting to take its toll.
That, and Vlad's proximity made her skin feel like it was supercharged. She was almost afraid to touch anything, lest she and it go up in flames.
Flames.
The dream came back to her. This time, Theresa couldn't repress the shiver that ran through her. Michelle shot her a concerned look but didn't say anything.
"Mr. Devac has been… detained," Timothy explained. "He'll be with us shortly. He said to make ourselves comfortable."
Theresa and Michelle looked around the courtyard. It was pleasant enough to look at but… comfortable?
A wooden bench sat alone under the shade of an ancient willow tree. Theresa doubted Timothy would be gentleman enough to stand so she and Michelle could share the bench and, even if being pressed up against Timothy didn't churn her stomach (which it did), Theresa wasn't sure she wanted to be that close to anyone after so many hours of travel.
"We could explore…" Michelle started but her voice quickly died off as she looked around at the long, shadowed walkways that stretched out above them. It didn't look like the idea of wandering around the imposing – and more than a little creepy – monastery without a guide appealed to Michelle.
Theresa could have told her friend that they didn't need a guide; that she could lead them straight to the monastery's parlor, a place where the abbot had once entertained dignitaries, or to the frater, where long rows of rough-hewn tables and benches had seen countless meals. She could show them to the sacristy which, although out of the weather, offered little more comfort than where they stood. Or, there was the chapter house, a cavernous room surrounded on all sides by wide, stone benches.
There were plenty of places within the monastery that Theresa knew would be more comfortable than the courtyard that grew chillier as the sun descended, and she knew them all. She chose to keep that information to herself – partly because she didn't want to have to explain to Michelle and Timothy how she knew their locations but mostly because Theresa didn't know how she knew their locations.
It was a road that lead to a lot of unanswered questions, one that Theresa wasn't quite ready to take. Instead, she turned the box housing her equipment on its side and sat on it, facing the large doors that they had entered through. Michelle shrugged and joined her, straddling the shatter-proof, black case that held her own equipment. Timothy looked down at them for a moment before turning and marching toward the courtyard's only bench. Sitting down with a huff, he pulled out his phone and started firing off texts.
"Are you okay?" Michelle asked. She kept her voice low enough that Timothy wouldn't be able to hear.
Theresa didn't know what she could say that wouldn't be a lie. She just shook her head.
Michelle reached out to take her hand. "I hit up the duty free before we left," she said, giving Theresa's hand a squeeze. "There's a bottle of bourbon in my bag that'll make everything okay," she promised with a mischievous grin.
I really doubt that, Theresa thought miserably. She had the unshakeable feeling that nothing would ever be okay again.