The gigolo raised a hand to the still wet hair that was twisted in a chignon at the back of her head. Realizing he was about to remove the etched silver hair pin, she pulled away from him.

'I just wanted to '

'I have paid you a generous sum of money to tend to my wants,' she interrupted, annoyed with his presumption.

He threw up his hands in a show of surrender. 'Hey, no problem. Like you said, you're calling the shots.'

Actually, when she went for the kill, she preferred more silent methods. But she doubted that her paid paramour would be especially interested in the dark particulars of her life.

'Are you thirsty?'

'For you, baby. I'm thirsty for you.'

Angelika resisted the urge to laugh at his soph.o.m.oric repartee. Instead, she shoved him aside. 'I was asking if you'd like a drink,' she said over her shoulder as she strolled across to the bar.

Like a lost puppy, the gigolo trailed on her heels. 'A drink. Yeah, sure. What have you got?'

'La Fee Verte,' she said, lifting a bottle for his inspection.

His brow wrinkled. 'The green fairy?' He took the proffered bottle and read the label. A moment later, a look of near-comical shock on his face, he said, 'Absinthe! Is this s.h.i.+t even legal?'

'More or less,' she equivocated. French distilleries still brewed the mythical green liquor despite the fact that the original 1915 ban on absinthe had yet to be revoked.

'I thought this stuff was outlawed for, you know, making people go insane.'

'I don't think you need to worry about that happening.' Not bothering to ask if he wished to imbibe, she poured the absinthe into two hand-blown gla.s.ses. She then placed a slotted silver spoon over one of the gla.s.ses and, reaching into a sugar bowl, removed a cube.

'Are you going to set it on fire? I once saw Susan Sarandon do that in a movie.'

Although Angelika had not seen the movie in question, she knew that he referred to the modern ritual of setting the sugar cube aflame. While dramatic, she preferred the Zen-like simplicity of the old ways.

'The fire will come later,' she promised.

'I bet. I mean, man alive, you're one hot babe. Usually my clients are, you know, older women who schedule me between morning shopping sprees on the Champs-elysees and afternoon tea at the Laduree Salon.'

'Poor bebe. Such a difficult life,' she said with a taunting sneer.

Reaching for a decanter, she slowly drizzled cold water over the sugar cube, the green liquid replaced with an opalescent cloud. Within moments, a strong liquorice aroma wafted from the gla.s.s.

'Way cool!' her companion enthused, his earlier hesitancy about drinking absinthe having vanished.

Angelika repeated the ritual with the second gla.s.s.

'A votre sante,' she said, handing him the milky green beverage.

Doing a fair imitation of a thirsty man in the desert, he quaffed half the contents of the gla.s.s in one swallow. Like most Americans, he drank to get intoxicated, the subtlety of the honeyed herbs and floral bouquet beyond his appreciation.

Wearing an asinine expression, he giggled. 'I can't feel my tongue. Jeez, no wonder Van Gogh cut off his ear. Talk about a buzz.' Two gulps later, he'd finished his drink.

Ah, 'The ceremony of innocence is drowned'.

Wordlessly, Angelika turned away from the bar and walked down the hall to her bed chamber.

'Nice digs,' her companion remarked as he stepped into the bedroom, the stark s.p.a.ce a study in white fabric and ebonized furniture. 'It's like, what, contemporary Asian?'

Not in the mood for chit-chat, she impatiently waved a hand in his direction. 'Remove your clothes. I wish to see what I paid for.' She sat down on the white leather chaise adjacent to the bed, her kimono fanning out from her bare legs like a giant blood stain.

'Whatever the pretty lady wants. I'm not one to brag, but I think you'll be pleased,' the young man said with a brash smirk as he unzipped his Levi jeans. 'I work out five times a week.'

'Very nice,' she complimented once he'd removed all of his clothing. Not nearly as impressive as Finnegan McGuire, but more than satisfactory. She jutted her head towards the king-size platform bed. 'On the bed. Spread-eagle.'

'A lady who knows her mind. I like that. Most of my clients aren't nearly so a.s.sertive.'

Because I'm not like any of your other clients, she silently mused as she got up from the chaise. Taking a last sip of her absinthe, she placed the gla.s.s on the Tansu cabinet before walking over to the bed. Pleased to see that he was fully aroused, she let the red kimono slide off her shoulders and drop on to the white carpet.

The young man's eyes opened wide. 'What's that tattooed on your left t.i.t?'

She glanced at the circular tattoo with the Black Sun symbol. 'That is my talisman,' she said as she straddled his hips. Grasping his erection in her right hand, she pulled it towards her, impaling herself with one quick plunge.

'Oh, babe, that's good!' her paramour crooned, moving his hands towards her waist.

She slapped at his groping hands. 'I want you spread-eagled.'

'Just like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, huh?'

Annoyed with his non-stop banter, she quickened the pace.

'You need to slow down,' he moaned. 'I'm about to come.'

'I sincerely hope so,' she quietly remarked. Reaching behind her head, she removed the ornately incised stiletto from her rolled chignon, damp locks tumbling past her shoulders.

She spared a quick glance at the silver emblem of the sacred Irminsul, the ancient Saxon tree of life that adorned the slender hilt. Her lips curved into a smile.

Closing her eyes, Angelika conjured Finnegan McGuire's image in her mind's eye, able to see his brown eyes roll to the back of his head as he writhed beneath her. Able to feel his strong, muscular hips buck to and fro. Pleased with the image, she grasped the stiletto in her fist and, just at the moment of mutual o.r.g.a.s.m plunged it into the young man's heart. Then across his throat. His face. His chest.

Warm blood splattered her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Angelika gasping with pleasure.

Die, Finnegan McGuire, die. A thousand deaths. Each more painful than the one before.

30.

'How the h.e.l.l did I get roped into coming to an art museum?' Finn grumbled. 'If you ask me, this is just a waste of time.'

'I didn't ask,' Kate promptly retorted.

Ten minutes ago they'd arrived at the Musee du Louvre, Caedmon silent as to the reason for the visit. In that short time span, they'd climbed two flights of marble steps, waded through throngs of yammering tourists and seen centuries of art and antiquities pa.s.s in a surreal blur. Like billboards on the interstate.

A general leading his war-weary troops into battle, Caedmon strode into the high-ceilinged Salle des Bronzes. A cavernous gallery, it benefitted from the abundant natural light streaming through a bank of tall windows. Gla.s.s display cases affixed to the walls and lining the centre of the salon contained exquisite pieces of metalwork from the Cla.s.sical period.

Originally a st.u.r.dy but simple medieval fortress, over the centuries the Louvre had undergone numerous renovations and expansions, evolving into the palatial residence of the kings of France. Through conquest and outright theft, those same kings ama.s.sed one of the most impressive art collections in all of Europe. Confiscated during the Revolution, the royal palace officially opened its doors as a public museum on 10 August 1793. Ironically, the event coincided with the one-year anniversary of the monarchy's downfall.

'Jesus, this place is at least twenty times bigger than anything Saddam built.'

Exasperated, Kate shook her head. Always trust Finn to be utterly irreverent.

But also trust him to be incredibly valiant. During the standoff with the Dark Angel, he'd actually s.h.i.+elded her with his own body, fully prepared to take a bullet for her. Kate was still awestruck at his incredible bravery. Even at the beginning of her disastrous marriage, during the 'happy years', she somehow doubted that her ex-husband would have gone to such extraordinary lengths to protect her. And while Finn liked to play the foul-mouthed commando, she knew that he had true courage and conviction. In a word, he was an unsung hero.

But she wasn't about to sing his praises or reveal her feelings. Finn was on a mission to avenge his slain comrades and did not need or want any distractions. Earlier today, he intimated that she was just that, an unwanted distraction that he was obliged to protect.

Because she so greatly admired Finn's loyalty to his two friends, she wanted to help, not hinder him.

Having yet to explain the purpose of the excursion, Caedmon headed for the last window in the salon. 'From this vantage point, we can see the spectacular Axe Historique de Paris,' he said over his shoulder, motioning them to join him.

Sandwiched between her two taller companions, Kate peered through the window; directly below them was the crowded Cour Napoleon and I. M. Pei's famous gla.s.s pyramid.

'As you can see, the Historic Axis runs in a westward trajectory from the apex of the gla.s.s pyramid, through the middle of the Tuileries Gardens and the Place de la Concorde.' Caedmon tilted his chin at the two famous landmarks, visible in the hazy distance. 'The axis then continues along the Champs-elysees, dramatically terminating at the ultra-modern Grande Arche. Without a doubt, one of the most beautiful stretches of real estate in the world. While lovely to behold, most people are unaware that this famous axis is identical to the Sacred Axis in ancient Thebes that connected the Temple of Luxor to the Temple of Karnak.'

Finn glanced out of the window. 'Oh, yeah. I'm sure that King Tut had a gla.s.s pyramid just like the one down there on the concourse.'

'By "identical", I meant that both axes were constructed on an alignment twenty-six degrees north-of-west in one direction and twenty-six degrees south-of-east in the other. Fascinating, don't you think?'

Intrigued, Kate asked the obvious: 'Identical by design or accident?'

'The layout of the Axe Historique is quite intentional.' As he spoke, a lock of red hair fell on to Caedmon's brow.

Something about those errant strands called to mind a long-forgotten memory of Caedmon, sprawled on a rumpled bed, hands wrapped, not around her, but around a leather-bound history book. Utterly enthralled. That was when Kate realized that Caedmon Aisquith loved the mysteries of history more than he loved her. Soon thereafter, she sent the infamous 'lettre de rupture'.

Unnerved by the memory, Kate refocused her attention on the axis. 'The Egyptian obelisk that's located at Place de la Concorde, wasn't that brought to Paris from the Temple of Luxor?'

'Hauled from Egypt to France in the nineteenth century, the obelisk originally stood sentry along the Sacred Axis at Thebes. And just like its Egyptian twin, the Paris axis is orientated to the Heliacal Rising of Sirius.'

'Sirius is that big bright star in Canis Major, right?'

Pleased that Finn was making an effort to partic.i.p.ate, Kate enthusiastically nodded. 'Big and bright because Sirius is twice the size of the sun and approximately twenty times more luminous.' She'd always attributed her avid interest in astronomy to the fact that her father was an astrophysicist.

'Sirius is also the celestial abode of Isis, the queen of the Egyptian pantheon,' Caedmon added. 'Marking the beginning of the Egyptian New Year, or Prt pdt, the heliacal rising of Sirius was heralded as a sacred event.'

'Wouldn't the heliacal rising of Sirius happen every morning when the sun came up?'

Although Finn's question had merit, Kate shook her head, disavowing him of the notion. 'You'd think so. However, in the spring, Sirius drops below the horizon, vanis.h.i.+ng from sight for a seventy-day period. During that time, it drifts approximately one degree each day as it hovers near the Pleiades. The heliacal rising refers to the star's re-emergence after its lengthy absence.' She thoughtfully tapped her finger against her lip. 'Caedmon, what exactly did you mean when you said that the Axe Historique and the Sacred Axis in Thebes are both orientated to the heliacal rising?'

'I meant that at dawn on the morning of the helical rising, if you were to stand on the Axe Historique and gaze due east ' turning, he extended his arm towards the wall behind them 'Sirius would be in your direct line of sight. But, even more amazing, that evening at sunset, if you stood in the same spot and looked due west ' he pivoted, resuming his original stance 'you would see the setting sun perfectly framed within the open cube of the Grande Arche.'

'Wow. I bet that's an awesome sight,' Kate murmured.

'Truly magnificent. And while we can only a.s.sume that the Egyptians contrived an equally stunning spectacle, the Sacred Axis at Thebes was designed for one specific purpose: at the heliacal rising, the temple priests would draw the astral energy emanating from Sirius along the axis that connected the two temples.'

Hearing that, Finn said, 'All right. I'll bite. What's astral energy?'

'All stars emit electromagnetically charged energy,' Caedmon replied. 'The Egyptians believed that at the heliacal rising of Sirius, an opening was created in the cosmos, an aperture through which the energy of Sirius could be accessed and manipulated.'

'And what does that have to do with the Dark Angel or those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds at the Seven Research Foundation?'

'I would think a great deal. German scholars in the Ahnenerbe referred to Sirius as the Black Sun. That being the same Black Sun depicted on the tattoo that you earlier showed me.'

Surprised, Kate's eyes opened wide. 'Which suggests that there is a connection between the Ahnenerbe and the Seven Research Foundation.'

Caedmon concurred with a nod. 'Obsessed with Egypt, the Ahnenerbe was convinced that the origins of physics, chemistry and biology were encoded in the Egyptian glyphs, texts and sacred monuments. Whole divisions within the Ahnenerbe were dedicated to recovering the lost sciences of the ancient world.'

'And wasn't that a waste of time,' Finn muttered disagreeably under his breath. 'Talk about a bogus load of malarkey.'

'Why is it so difficult to accept that the ancients may have possessed scientific knowledge that was equal, if not superior, to our own?' Exhibiting the unflappable calm for which the English were famous, Caedmon stood his ground. 'One need only examine the pyramids to know that the Egyptians were brilliant engineers.'

'In fact, modern engineers still haven't figured out how they built those darned things,' Kate informed her sceptical companion.

'And let us not forget that many of those pyramids were orientated to the constellations in the night sky. A notable achievement in any century.'

'That reminds me, Caedmon.' Kate suddenly recalled a remark made earlier in the day. 'When we questioned the Dark Angel, she made a pa.s.sing reference to "the great star rising with the sun".'

'Indeed? Then we must presume that the Seven Research Foundation knows about the heliacal rising of Sirius.'

'Which leads to my next question: what was the purpose of drawing the astral energy from Sirius along the Sacred Axis?'

'Ah! We finally get to the marrow.' Blue eyes glittering, the man clearly in the know about something, Caedmon stared intently out of the window. 'The purpose of the exercise was to create the Vril force by fusing astral energy to the telluric currents deep within the earth. And, according to the foremost Freemason of the nineteenth century, Albert Pike, the man who can glean that lost science can control the world.'

31.

Jardins des Tuileries 'I am grateful, Herr Doktor, for this opportunity to prove my worth,' the chauffeur energetically affirmed. 'And I will succeed where the Dark Angel failed.'

Ivo Uhlemann lightly patted Dolf Reinhardt on the chest, pleased that he relished the upcoming a.s.signment. Although a coa.r.s.e bully boy, he was dependable, a truncheon now in order. Time was running out with the heliacal rising of Sirius only three days away. Since Finnegan McGuire refused to surrender the Montsegur Medallion, they must resort to brute force. Pity the poor Americans.

'I have every confidence in your abilities,' Ivo replied.

'Would you like for me to drive you home beforehand, Herr Doktor?'

'A bit more suns.h.i.+ne will do us both good, I think.' Ivo glanced at the Schnauzer obediently sitting at his feet. 'Since I've a yen for wild duck with chutney, I'll have Boris drive me to Le Meurice when I'm ready to depart.'