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Back Cardinal Black Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Title Page
  2. One: Into the Storm
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Two: London Calling
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Three: The Malignant Seven
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Four: Squirrels and Cats
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Five: Revelation
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. About the Author

When the bloody knife was turned in the woman’s direction, Greta Autrey got up on her knees and spat at him with the tears running down her cheeks, and she said fiercely, “Rot in der Holle, du Schwein.”

After the work was done—quickly and efficiently, as was Black’s method—the cardinal cut the sign of the Devil’s Cross on the forehead of both bodies and said, “I commend your souls to the Master.” Then, to Lash, “I’m ready now, sir. The Master will speed our cause.”

“Fine,” Lash rumbled, with a grim glance toward the horror that lay in the hall. “Just keep your damn master out of my way.”

They struggled on through the woods and eight inches of snow. The wind was still blowing hard, sweeping snow from the tree branches, but the snowfall itself had ceased. Behind them the low clouded sky was smeared with orange from the burning barn, and before them was the dark of the unknown.

When they had come out of the cottage, they’d found Lioness Sauvage lying next to the woodpile. Blood had seeped through her lion’s-skin coat on the left side of her body up near the collarbone. When she made out who was there, she made a gasping noise and tried to lift one of the pistols she held—the one that Matthew realized had not misfired—but she was unable to do so. In any case, snow had already blighted that weapon as well, and also lay in an icy gleaming upon her face and the mane of her hair.

Matthew paused to look down upon her and was struck with a feeling of pity, his senses still stunned. As he was doing so the axe that Julian had picked up beside the woodpile came down into her head with a definitive finality, and Julian said, “Don’t waste our time. Move.” He pushed the doctor ahead of him, and Matthew followed as they trudged away from the cottage.

After another moment Matthew asked, “Do you think the Autreys will be all right?”

There was no reply from Julian.

“The Autreys,” said Matthew. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

“They’re already dead,” Julian said. “Now be silent.”

Of course they were. Matthew knew it. Lash and Black would not let them live to tell any tales. Of course they were dead, their throats likely cut and that Devil’s Cross sliced into their—