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But before I can touch pavement, two of the other gargoyles catch me, grabbing me by my wrists. My arms jerk hard and I’m pretty sure they want to come out of their sockets, if they already haven’t.

Then another pair grab me by the ankles.

Hauling me back up, the two gripping my ankles rise higher, flipping me upside down.

My dress falling into my face and my arms gripped even tighter, I can’t see shit as they pick up speed and fly me into the church through an opening.

What I can sense, though, is all the heartbeats, the reek of rotten blood, and several startled exclamations.

The gargoyles swooping low again, I feel my hair tugging on my scalp as it drags against a floor and down what must be a set of stone stairs…

Oh, hell no!

Shrieking and screeching like a banshee, I start to fight again. With four pairs of stone hands gripping me, though, it’s pointless. The only thing I manage to do is twist my torso from side to side before I’m unceremoniously dumped on a stone floor.

Every little hair on my body stands on end as if the very air is charged with static electricity.

And that’s while I’m still rolled up into a ball.

Getting my feet under me, I push my dress down and position myself into a defensive crouch. Angrily swiping the hair out of my face, I quickly look at what’s around me.

I’m definitely underground. All the walls surrounding me are made of stone…

Not this bullshit again.

The room is on the smaller side, and I don’t see any doors leading to any other rooms. Only the open door that the gargoyles must have carried me through. There’s an altar covered in a red cloth up against one of the walls and the symbol of the Order hangs above it.

Only two candles are lit on the altar, but I don’t need more light to see everything clearly. Between the two candles rests awicked curved blade. The wooden handle of the blade is worn smooth where someone has probably gripped it over the years.

The blade doesn’t concern me, though. What concerns me is the smell of old blood. Blood that smells familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Glancing down, I spot a metal drain in the floor.

Great. Another bleeding room. Well, if they think they’re going to bleed me, they can think again.

The gargoyles finally land beside me. My quick examination of the room probably only taking a few seconds. Seeing no one else around, I straighten and try to take a step forward.

But I’m stopped by some invisible force in front of me.

Scowling in irritation, I try to take a step to the side, but I’m stopped again. No matter which direction I attempt to step, I’m stopped, as if I’m stuck in a bubble I can’t see.

Slamming my hands up against the invisible wall, I finally look up and notice a symbol painted in red on the stone ceiling. It resembles the strange symbol I saw on the Prophet’s true face. A circle with small markings, most of them lines and squiggles, painted inside it.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath out of habit, then try to reach out to Raphael.

Hopefully, he’s on his way. I can’t imagine him abandoning me. Not unless something happened to him…

“Raphael!”I shout through the bond.“I’m stuck under a church!”

When I get no response, I have to fight back the terror that wants me to fucking freak out.

He’s fine, I repeat to myself.

If something happened to him, I know I would have felt it.

He’s the other half of my soul. If he died or was injured, it would hurt, wouldn’t it?

But I don’t feel pain…

Freaking the fuck out now, I claw, punch, bite, and kick at the invisible walls.