Necropolis

her neck. She heard him cry out in triumph.
    His breath was against her skin.
    She didn't let go of the door. She wasn't going to let him drag her back. Instead, she dropped down, twisting her shoulders so that the coat was pulled over her head. She had already undone the buttons and she felt it come loose, falling away. Father Gregory lost his balance and, still holding the coat, fell back.
    Scarlett was free. She jerked the door open and threw herself forward. For a few seconds her vision was blurred. The doorway seemed to rush past. She heard Gregory screaming at her, suddenly a long way away.
    The door slammed shut behind her.
    She was lying, sobbing and shaking on the floor of St. Meredith's. And there was a man standing in front of her, a young policeman dressed in blue, staring at her with a look of complete bewilderment.
    "Who are you?" he demanded.
    "I'm…Scarlett Adams." She could barely get the words out.
    "Where have you been? What have you been doing?" The policeman shook his head in disbelief. 'You'd better come with me!"
    FIVE
    Front Page News
    Scarlett had only been missing for eighteen hours, but she was a fifteen-year-old student on a school trip in the middle of London, and her disappearance had been enough to trigger a major panic, with newspaper headlines, TV bulletins, and a nationwide search. Both her parents had been informed at once, and Paul Adams was already on a plane, on his way back from Hong Kong. He was actually in midair when Scarlett was found.
    Scarlett had begun to realize that she was in trouble almost from the moment she found herself back in St. Meredith's, sitting opposite the policeman, who had immediately launched into a series of questions.
    "Where have you been?" he asked again.
    Scarlett was still in shock, thinking about her narrow escape from Father Gregory. She pointed at the door with a trembling finger. "There…"
    "What do you mean?" The policeman was young and out of his depth. He had already radioed for backup, and an ambulance was on the way. Even so, he was the first on the scene. There might even be a promotion in this. He took out a notebook and prepared to write down anything Scarlett said.
    "The monastery," Scarlett muttered. "I was in the monastery."
    "And what monastery was that?"
    "On the other side of the door."
    The policeman walked over to the door and opened it before Scarlett realized what he was going to do.
    At the last minute, she screamed at him, a single word.
    "Don't!"
    She had visions of Father Gregory flying in, dragging her back to her cell. She was sure the nightmare was about to begin all over again. But the policeman was just standing there, scratching his head. There was no monastery on the other side of the door, no monks —just an alleyway, a brick wall, a line of trash cans. It was drizzling — gray, London weather. Scarlett looked past him. She couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.
    And that was when she knew that she was going to have to start lying. How could she explain where she had been and what had really happened to her? Magic doors? Psycho monks in Ukraine? People would think she was mad. Worse than that, they might decide that the whole thing had been a schoolgirl prank.
    She would be expelled from St. Genevieve's. Her father would kill her. She had to come up with an answer that made sense.
    The next forty-eight hours were a nightmare almost as bad as the one she had left behind. More policemen and paramedics arrived, and suddenly the church was crowded with people all asking questions and arguing amongst themselves. Scarlett didn't seem to be hurt, but even so, she was wrapped in a blanket and whisked off to the hospital. Somehow, the press had already found out that she was back. The street was jammed with photographers and journalists threatening to mob her as she was bundled into the ambulance, and there were more of them waiting when she was helped out on the other side. All Scarlett could do was keep her head down, ignore the flashes of the cameras, and wish that the whole thing would be over soon.
    Mrs. Murdoch was called to the hospital and stayed with Scarlett as she was examined by a doctor and a nurse. The housekeeper looked shell-shocked. It was obvious that nothing like this had ever happened to her before. The doctor took Scarlett's pulse and heart rate and then asked her to strip down to her underwear.
    "Where did you get these?" He had noted a series of scratches running down her back.
    "I don't