Page 8

Faustus continued to stare at the vampire in disbelief.

The words were reaching him, though.

They reached him, even though he didn’t want them to.

“You’re insane,” he blurted.

Brick shrugged, and even now, the gesture came across as languid, indifferent.

“We shall see.”

That lazy smile grew, again flashing a hint of white fang.

“Archangel… they are suchbusybeavers. Such clever little animals with their paranoid, devious minds. You must admire humans, really. Surely evenyousee their strengths at times, Charles, despite your irrational hatred of their kind? They really can besocreative, so very ingenious. So utterly ruthless when they want something…”

The vampire’s irises glowed faintly in the dark cell.

“They are quite experienced in such things, they assure me,” Brick added. “And if we are correct, I think even Quentin and his wife may approve in the end. It is the thing that gives me some hope they might survive this messy situation they helped create…”

Faustus looked around the cell, looking for weapons, anything he might use.

With the organic-electric field down, he used his seer’s light, trying to find nearby humans to push, anyone who might help him.

He felt no one.

Then again, he wouldn’t. He was still inside the Pentagon. The sight-dampening shield around him was one he’d put in place himself.

Besides, the vampires had always found ways to block seer sight.

They were masters at it.

“I can tell by the look on your face, you’re realizing just how bad your predicament is, Charles… and just how serious I am about cleaning up your mess.”

Faustus turned his head. He stared at the vampire, breathing hard.

The vampire studied him back, a more serious look touching his perfect lips.

His eyes shone entirely red now, washed with that glowing, inhuman scarlet.

“I thought perhaps I would let Quentin himself handle you, as part of our compromise. Or Miriam, even. I worried they might beoffendedif I took care of you myself.”

Brick’s eyes grew noticeably colder.

“Then I realized Ihadto do it. That they would never be able to do what needed to be done. Not even Quentin. You being his wife’s blood would make taking the appropriate steps nearly impossible in his eyes.”

Brick’s coldness grew more pronounced.

“Little Miri couldn’t do it either, Charles. I fear she still loves you, despite everything.”

Betial came to a stop.

He now stood in the middle of the cell.

He held his arms out slightly to either side, and it hit Faustus, maybe for the first time, just how damned big the vampire was. Something about his demeanor, his coyness, his sheer irritating nature, made him seem less physically imposing than he actually was.

Looking at him now, Faustus saw him clearly.

He saw King Betial as he was.