14
ARKANE, Trafalgar Square, London. 12.30pm
Elias Marietti rested his head in his hands, fingers massaging his temples as another starburst of pain rocketed through his brain. The call from the Vatican had set off a migraine that had been lurking in the background for days, waiting for him to lower his guard. The Devil’s Bible was under threat and the Cardinal had been adamant that they must locate and secure it before dark forces could wield its power. How he longed to go back out in the field himself instead of being stuck here in the public offices of ARKANE.
He looked out of the tall window towards Trafalgar Square. He felt like one of the great lions trapped in bronze at the base of Nelson’s Column, old fighters reined in to provide an illusion of strength to the Empire. It felt a
