Analiese Rising by Brenda Drake

Analiese Rising by Brenda Drake

Author:Brenda Drake
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: magic, zombies, archaeology, teen romance
Publisher: Entangled TEEN
Published: 2018-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

The sun is out today, and dappled light slips through the leaves of the trees lining the road that is home to Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini chapel. The Capuchin Crypt is situated beneath it.

Marek looks different today. Taller? Straighter, maybe? I thought he was attractive from the first time I met him, but there’s something more to him now.

There’s a small line forming outside the wrought-iron gates, waiting for the crypt to open. Three groups—two couples and four older men. I’m not sure if we should trust them. As it is now, I don’t believe anyone.

“Ready to see some dead monks?” Marek smirks and crosses the street.

I hurry to his side, working hard to keep up with his long gait. “Can you quit with the dead references already? Two was funny. You were pushing it at three during breakfast. Now it’s just tired.”

He stops in the middle of the road. “You wound me.”

I grab his arm and pull him out of the way of oncoming traffic. “If you’re not careful, they’ll have another dead body to add to their collection in that crypt.”

“That’s not funny.” He frowns.

“See?”

He shakes his head and steps up on the curb.

We get in line and wait.

On the other side of the gate, fixed to the brick wall, is a plaque with a three-dimensional woman in flowing robes. There’re two infants at her feet and a crest underneath her. The writing on the stone is in Italian or Latin, so I don’t know what it says, but my bet is the woman is Santa Maria, since the chapel is named after her.

Marek faces the street, looking out for anyone recognizable while I read the stuff about the crypt I printed in the hotel’s business center earlier this morning.

The pocket in his jacket is bulging out, the metal box hiding there. It’s in the shop’s bag Marek got when he bought the postcards. If there’s security, hopefully the box will pass off as a souvenir.

His head tilts in my direction, and a smile pushes up his cheeks, causing a hint of dimples to appear in each one. There’s a worry behind his eyes. He thinks I may break down again. What he doesn’t know is that I have it under control. I missed taking my meds a few days in a row and consumed a lot of caffeine yesterday. Add the incredibly stressful situation we’re in and an attack was bound to happen.

“I’m okay,” I reassure him.

“I didn’t say anything.” He looks directly into my eyes, then sneaks a glance at my lips, and it stills me.

What was that? He keeps looking there. Do I have weird lips? I make a slow 360 turn, pretending to search the street, running my fingers across my mouth to see if any breakfast remains are hanging out there. I don’t feel anything.

The line moves, and we shuffle along with the crowd. When we enter, everyone’s voices lower to a whisper out of respect for the dead. We skip the museum, walking through it and going straight to the crypt.



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