A/N - to Armand SS - thanks for your reviews. Yes, I do know someone with Lupus - myself. I decided to give my OC the same disease because it is one that not very many people know much about. Unlike cancer and diabetes and cerebral palsy, etc., it doesn't get much media coverage. This is my way of spreading a bit of knowledge about it. It also heightens the dramatic tension a bit too.

To others who have asked - yes, this is still a romance. It's a slow burn as I don't think Silas has the emotional health to jump into a good relationship immediately and I couldn't bear to give him a bad one.

There are supernatural aspects in this chapter. For those who don't believe in this kind of thing, please just enjoy the story for it's own sake. Thank you to the people who are kind enough to make the time to review. You keep me posting each chapter.

Chapter Fifteen

"Behold, I send an Angel before you to keep you in the way and to bring you into the place which I have prepared."

Exodus 23:20

Sennett received an email at work from DNA Solutions at around 11am the following day. She hesitated to open it. She was fairly sure of the answer already but so much rested on it. Biting her lip, she double-clicked on it and began to read.

Sample 1 consisted of two bones, one a piece of true rib from the anterior right hand side of the body; the second a third metatarsal bone from the left foot. Sample 1 also consisted of several full hair strands, most including the hair root.

Sample 2 consisted of approximately 20 full hair strands including the hair root.

Sample 1 belongs to a woman whose DNA most closely matches DNA obtained from ancient samples from the Middle East, with particular reference to first centuary Israel and Judah. Her racial origin is 100 percent Jewish. The sample yielded 99 percent accurate DNA.

So there was a very good chance indeed that it really was the bones of Mary Magdalene, Sennett thought with awe.

Sample 2 belongs to a woman whose DNA most closely matches other DNA obtained from modern France, with particular reference to the Normandy region. Her racial origin is 100 percent Gallic Caucasian. The sample yielded 99.9 percent accurate DNA.

The purpose of the test was to establish ancestry between Sample 1 and Sample 2. The results show that there is no ancestral link between Sample 1 and Sample 2 within 99.9 percent of certainty.

In order for ancestry to be established, there must be matching or near matching 37 marker Y-DNA results as well as anomalies in their DNA signatures that make it a virtual certainty that the samples have a common paternal ancestor. This was not the case in these test results. There were no matching or near matching Y-DNA results or anomalies in the DNA signatures to suggest a common ancestor.

Sennett let her breath out slowly and smiled. She almost laughed out loud. She had been so certain but now she was vindicated.

The modern day Priory of Sion was a fake and worthy of the indifference they had received from historians. The only question left to be answered was why a small group within Opus Dei had ever bothered to pay attention to them at all.

Sennett printed out the email to give to Silas that evening.

Silas could tell from Sennett's face when she came in that the results were back. With a triumphant smile which told him the answer already, she handed him the printed email.

He read it immediately, his attitude one of total absorption.

He suddenly felt unsteady on his feet and went and sat down on the couch. He sat with the paper dangling between his knees and his white head bent as the full realization of the results sunk in. He had killed for nothing. At least five people had died, if not more, for no reason.

Sennett saw his reaction with pity and left him alone to process it all.

Why had the Teacher and Bishop Aringarosa been so afraid of a bunch of fakes; afraid enough to make him into an assassin, Silas thought furiously?

The final bit of reality from his old life in Opus Dei collapsed within him and disappeared like mist under a hot sun. He felt very empty all of a sudden, far more so than usual.

If he could not believe what he was told by a Roman Catholic Bishop, what could he believe? What was true and what was a lie? Perhaps everything he had ever been told in his life was a lie. Perhaps God Himself was a lie? Perhaps Sennett wasn't a prophet but some kind of freak of nature, who knew? Nothing seemed real, nothing seemed true, nothing could be trusted. He felt the same way he had before he had found God – or thought he had found God.

Suddenly Silas was terrified. He remembered what life was like without God; a black abyss without any hope or light.

"If You are there", Silas prayed silently, "Show me a sign so I may believe again."

Silas went to bed early after Diggory had been to change his dressings. He could not eat any dinner. Despite the usual medication, he lay awake for a long time staring into the dark.

With a heavy heart, Sennett put aside some food covered in plastic wrap should he want it later. She did not remember seeing Silas in such a bad state, not even when he had first been shot. She had a feeling the road ahead for Silas would be very long.

Silas got up very early. He was ravenously hungry. Pulling on his dressing gown, he made his way towards the kitchen, only to find Sennett standing at the door in her own dressing gown speaking to someone.

It was 6am and the sun was only just beginning to come up. Sennett never got up this early.

Sennett had her back to him, so Silas couldn't see her face. At the door was a very tall man on the right side of forty (although otherwise, it was hard to tell his age). His broad shoulders almost filled the doorway. Silas was a large man but this stranger dwarfed him somewhat. His hair was short, curly and a dirty blonde colour. His eyes were a curious blue; pale like Silas' but that was where the similarity ended. This man's eyes were the colour of the sea over pure silver sand under a hot tropical sky; the translucent, silvery blue of beaches in Tahiti.

At first Silas assumed it was one of Sennett's many and varied friends dropping by, albeit at such an odd time. He was dressed like a student of some kind in Khakis and a beige anorak. He looked very relaxed and positive, his eyes shone clear of any anxiety or self-consciousness or worry. In that way, his expression was quite extraordinary. Silas had never seen that look on any other human being's face.

The tall stranger was looking down at Sennett with an expression that made Silas bristle although there was nothing untoward in it. He was simply smiling down at the small woman in a friendly fashion, as though he knew her quite well and was kindly disposed to her.

He didn't stay long. After having a brief conversation, the stranger put something into Sennett's hand and then loped off down one of the cobbled streets, not stopping to wave. Sennett watched until he disappeared around a corner and then shaking her head, shut the door.

When she turned around, Silas could see she was smiling and her eyes were shining. There was an air of incredulity around her, however, as though she couldn't quite believe that she had seen who she had seen.

"A friend of yours?" Silas asked diffidently, squashing down the irritating jealousy that he had felt for any number of reasons. The man had intimidated him and he didn't like how close he seemed to be to Sennett. Silas was used to having Sennett almost to himself.

"Not exactly but sort of," Sennett said mysteriously, looking hard pressed to put it any more clearly, "I've known him a long, long time. I first met him at 16. I've hardly ever seen him since," she admitted. Sennett gave Silas a long, assessing gaze. "He had a message for you," she suddenly said.

Silas felt shocked. Had his enemies tracked him down? How did this man know he was there?

"A message for me?" Silas repeated, his heart beating faster.

"Yes, he said you were to investigate the Engelberg Abbey. It's a Benedictine Monastery in Switzerland. He said you would be safe there once you were ready to leave London," Sennett said with perfect calm.

Silas felt suspicion like a black mist descend on his mind. He had been tricked and betrayed and used by nearly every person in his life. Who was to say this wasn't some kind of plot to place him into the hands of the very people he was trying to avoid? Why was the message so specific? Why wasn't it just any Benedictine Order? Why this one in particular?

"The Abbot is very anti-Opus Dei, apparently. He would hide you for as long as you needed," Sennett continued.

Silas' lips thinned in anger. He felt backed into a corner. He had no sure way of knowing whether this message was from a friend or foe. He had no idea who the man was. Why should Silas listen to him? How could this stranger know he was looking into possible Orders to join unless Sennett told him? Why had Sennett told this man and exposed him to possible danger?

"Why did you tell this friend about me?" Silas hissed, his pale eyes lighting up again in that peculiar way.

"I didn't," Sennett said coolly.

"How did he know then?" Silas asked, almost like an accusation.

Sennett held out her hand and in the palm was a silver brooch in the shape of a Celtic knot. It was very beautiful and in perfect condition.

Silas stared at it for a long time. It had been nearly thirty years since he had last seen it. The blue fire died out of his eyes.

"Where did you get that?" Silas asked, his voice harsh with emotion.

"Our visitor this morning gave it to me to give to you. He said you would know what it was," Sennett replied tranquilly.

Silas took a hesitant step forward and took the pretty thing from Sennett's palm. He turned it over and looked at the engraving on the back. "It was my mother's," he whispered, "She bought it with her from Ireland when she married my father. I sold it when I was seven to feed myself, among other small valuables I took when I ran away. That was before I began stealing," he said with shame, almost more to himself than to her.

Sennett's face crumpled with emotion. She had no idea that's what her visitor had given her as a token and Silas' story cut through her emotions like a knife.

"Who was he?" Silas asked insistently, his voice calmer but more determined.

"I think he was an angel," Sennett said slowly. She was frowning and her gaze was turned inward. "God must think you're very important," she added musingly.

Silas stared at her. Did he believe her or not? Goodness only knows - he had seen more strange things in this flat than he had in all of the places he had ever been in put together. But what if she was lying, like everyone else he had ever met?

But then there was the brooch which had been lost to him for over thirty years. Where the hell would Sennett or that man or anyone else have got it from after all this time? How would they have connected it to him? It was uncanny. The creeping feeling of fear was coming back to Silas. He was forced to believe whether he wanted to or not.

"Just how often do you talk to angels?" he asked in a low voice, still fingering the bright broach and not talking to her.

"Not often," Sennett said in a way that made Silas sure there was a great deal she was concealing from him.

"Why you?" Silas asked plainly, his pale eyes questioning.

"Why me, indeed," Sennett agreed, laughing humourlessly and shaking her head to express the same confusion. She was silent for a moment. "It's not easy to carry these secrets," she said finally, "I don't blame you if you don't believe me. I don't blame you at all."

"You don't care whether I go to this Engelberg Monestary?" Silas asked, his remaining suspicions still niggling at him.

Sennett had turned to go into the kitchen and she turned her head back to look at him strangely. "I don't care at all," she said with a shrug, "You must do what you think best. It is unlikely our visitor will be back to force you," she added ironically.