ritual, but using it for Gigi's purpose—to forget a traumatic experience—was not unheard of. Elyssa had no idea how many people had taken it. She wasn't even sure if the Templars kept records on such a thing. Daelissa obviously tampered with the memories of anyone who underwent the rituals, even the Blessed or Novice, because nobody remembered a thing about what happened during them. Elyssa was an exception, thanks to Nightliss, the dark angel and friend of Justin’s, who opposed Daelissa.
But the memory gaps so typical after rituals were short, hours at most as opposed to months. If the nightmares Gigi had were indicative of Daelissa's probes for information, Elyssa could ask her father or Christian to have anyone who'd experienced such dreams to step forward. But maybe Daelissa couldn't invade just anyone's dreams. She might be powerful, but she wasn't omnipotent. What if she could spy on the thoughts of those people whose long-term memory she'd affected? That meant anyone who'd taken the White was susceptible. It meant Elyssa was susceptible.
Not good.
She shuddered. Good news, bad news. Either way, she was far more informed than she had been an hour ago. Even if it meant she could no longer be a Templar, at least the vast majority of her comrades would be safe from the rogue angel's touch.
Adam returned. His face had returned to its normal gawky appearance, though his skin glowed sunburn red. "Now I remember why I hate using that spell unless I really, really need to."
"You must bring me up to date on these gadgets," Bella said. "It makes me feel like an old ninny when I have to look up something on my arcphone. Sad to say, I use the gizmo mostly for phone calls and pinning pictures on social media instead of using it for magic."
He offered her a strained smile. "Any time."
Elyssa grabbed the tablet off the desk. "We have to get this information to my father and Christian."
"You saw something incriminating?" Bella asked.
"The White." Cold prickles ran up Elyssa's back at the mention of it. "I think Daelissa can reach Martinez because she had her mind wiped. At least, I hope so. Otherwise, it means Daelissa can enter the dreams of any Templar."
Adam gave her a curious look. "Didn't you take…" he didn't finish the thought.
"Yeah. I took the White." Elyssa's voice came out rough with emotion despite her best efforts. She'd squandered her childhood, devoted almost every moment of her life for the Templars. But if she was a danger to their secrecy, she couldn't stay. Even her father would be forced to agree to her resignation.
They raced across the compound to the assembly area. Nearly two hundred Templars stood in perfect rows as a tall man with a long red robe walked along the large stage in the front and spoke. Elyssa wondered where the rest of the legion complement was, or if her quick assessment of the crowd’s size was wrong.
"Who in blazes is that?" Adam said, pointing at the man on the stage.
"Oh, goodness." Bella's eyes widened. "I believe it's Artemis Coronus, the Seneschal to the Grand Master of the Templar Synod."
And a Templar Knight. Elyssa almost stumbled with the realization as they jogged along the perimeter of the assemblage looking for her father. Very few of the Knights Templar remained, and almost no one in recent memory had been granted the ultimate honor. Even the great Thomas Borathen had never been offered the position, though he was known throughout the Overworld for his military victories over the centuries. For one of them to be here meant something serious was going on. For the Seneschal to be here meant—well, she didn't know what it meant, except major political forces were in motion.
Artemis held up a gloved fist. "The days of pitchforks and persecution are over. While the Synod does not agree with the actions of the rogue vampires known as Blood Rush, we strongly advise against a military course of action."
"You've got to be kidding," Adam said. "Since when would a Templar Knight back down from a fight?"
A deep chill gripped Elyssa's chest. The Synod could command the local legion to stand down if they brought it to a vote. They spoke for the Divinity. Supposedly, they were the only ones who had personally spoken to her—and remembered it. Elyssa didn't know the truth of the matter, but seeing how the Divinity and Daelissa were one and the same, it didn't much matter to her. If the Synod