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mercy。
For a few seconds he savoured the situation； gloated。 This is what they would have done to him but by calling upon Baron Cimeterre the tables were reversed。 And if you traded your soul with the devil then you made the most of your side of the bargain！
'You fucking vermin！' Sabat's expression was an animal snarl； a growing fury taking hold of him。 'You're not going to be put out of your misery quickly。 In the name of Baron Cimeterre you're going to suffer！'
Suddenly that escalating rage erupted inside him； turned him into a tornado of hate； the crucifix windmilling； hacking crudely； tearing and mutilating the bloodless vile flesh。 Bodies writhed； tried to crawl away on amputated limbs； collapsed； wailing and sobbing。 Sabat never once relented； another head rolling away； pulled up by the sinew which still attached it to the stump of a neck； gyrating； mouth moving in a soundless scream。 A veritable abattoir of putrefied pulped meat and still the attack went on。
Finally Sabat let his weapon…arm fall； seemed to check his rage instantly as he raised his eyes and saw。 A movement had attracted his attention； a patch of shadow that was too dark to be shadow。 Oh God； he thought he'd got them all but there was still one left。
'e here。' His voice was a whiplash cutting through the darkness。 'You cannot escape Sabat by hiding。'
She came； so lithe and shapely that he found himself overlooking the grimy flesh and ragged garments； seeing only the beauty of an unblemished skin which had once lain beneath； the ringlets of auburn hair； nipples that could only be so swollen and hard because she was aroused； and even now she was arousing him。 Miranda！
He didn't try to reason because primitive lust was blinding him to all else。 Except his hatred of her for what she was； a dangerous bination。
'You have to answer to both Baron Cimeterre and myself；' his lips scarcely moved； his words barely audible； 'because you defiled this place； sacrificed to another god。 You took a virgin from her grave； one who rightfully belonged to the Lord of the Cemetery； mated her； and another who still lived； to your own false lord of darkness。 Then you mitted the body of the one who died as a result of that to water； not to the earth where she would have bee Baron Cimeterre's。 The others have paid the price but yours will be even greater because my Lord Cimeterre demands that I take you as you took her； for I am his disciple on the Left Hand Path which leads to eternal life for those who serve faithfully！'
'No I' She screamed but did not try to flee because she knew it would be futile。 Those dull orbs flickered with the ultimate in terror and then he was upon her。
Sabat experienced a fleeting sensation as though he was on the astral witnessing the actions of his physical body； but that was impossible。 A kind of numbness flooded over him but it did not mar the urge which fired his veins； pumped the hot blood through his body。 Neither was he aware of the coldness of her body as he flung her to the ground beneath him。 He tossed away his sword； he did not need it for this！
She struggled but his strength was too much for her； pinioning her arms； ripping the final shreds of stinking clothing from her shuddering body。 Her flesh was cold but he scarcely noticed it； grunting aloud like a stag on the rutting stand。 No longer was he thinking of Sylvia Adams and Sheila Dowson； nor the terror which the latter must have experienced； only of himself； his conquest； and the fact that he was doing it for Baron Cimeterre； himself a servant of thePetrogod。
Finally he was finished with her； drawing back and fastening his clothing。 His lust was spent and now his fury was returning。 He groped for the fallen crucifix； reversed it and struck at the inert figure at his feet with terrible force； a blow which no human skull could have withstood。 The head split almost equally into two halves； the tortured expression divided。 Something oozed out which reminded him of frog…spawn but there was no blood。 He had not expected any。
Again and again； chopping and hacking with a desperation as though he wished to destroy this ghastly being totally； erase from his mind what had happened。 A psychopath； his brain blurred； telling himself that it had never taken place； that he would never have done anything like that。 And finally； when there was nothing left that resembled a human being at his feet； he almost believed it。 Almost。
Dawn came with its usual grey soberness。 Sabat stirred； shivered and raised himself off the tomb where he had been sitting。 He thought he might have fallen asleep but he knew he could not have done so for throughout the latter part of the night he had been conscious of just staring into the darkness； seeing nothing； not even thinking。
He glanced around； half expecting to see carnage and mutilation； widespread amputation and decapitation。 But there was nothing； the undergrowth not even flattened。 A psychic battle had been fought and 。。。 won or lost？
His mouth was dry and he had a nagging headache； he always had a headache after an exorcism。 Quentin's laughter came from somewhere then died away and left him to his own musings。 This past night had been fought on two fronts； inside the church his exorcism had been powerful enough but not out here。 Back to the wall； he had called upon the forces of darkness to destroy their own kind and they had conceded to his request。 Because he was one of them
He laughed； a dry mirthless sound。 In a strange way his evil brother had done him a favour； turned him into the most ruthless psychic mercenary who had ever stalked the frontiers of darkness。 So powerful； capable of summoning those who could serve his cause best。 But it was frightening； a kind of schizophrenia； a man outside himself at times； barely knowing what had transpired。
But this business was far from over。 St Adrian's and its grounds were exorcised； if one could call it that。 A mere skirmish in terms of the fight that lay ahead。 Somewhere the man named Royston had his new black temple and was already drawing upon the power that festered like a cancer within the bones of William Gardiner 。。。 so powerful that they had sent that terrible force of unspeakable terrors last night in a desperate attempt to destroy the one man who stood in their way。 They had failed but they wouldn't give up； they couldn't afford to。
Slowly； each step a determined effort that fought against sheer fatigue； Sabat began to make his way back to the vicarage。 The day would be spent sleeping； safe now that daylight had e； recharging mind and body for whatever perils the ing night might hold。
He almost ignored the approaching car and probably would have done had it not slowed when it drew level with him。 Even at their lowest ebb his extra…perceptive senses were not totally dulled； seeing everything in those split seconds before the silver Mercedes picked up speed and was lost to sight around the bend。
The driver； a big man with receding hair and the stamp of merciless cruelty on his features； e