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ill disperse； Sabat。 You back to your home； your instructions clear； which you will obey implicitly and await my further orders。 Liiith has sown her seeds and now we must wait for them to germinate。' She looked in the mirror； smiled to herself at the reflection of the approaching Colonel Vince Lealan； his eagerness reflected in the quickness of his step； a bland expression on his features。 'Here es Vince now。 You will drive us to the airport and then return to where your own car is parked； abandoning this one。'
Sabat gave no indication other than a faint nod that he had heard； but Catriona knew that he would obey for he could not do otherwise。 The moment the Colonel had thrown himself breathlessly on the back seat and begun to peel off his uniform Sabat had let in the clutch and pulled away； following a maze of deserted side streets that would skirt the scene of today's bloody battle。
'My God； you should have seen it！' Lealan had somehow struggled into a light blue suit； habitually brushing flecks of dust from the jacket with his fingers。 'That was how it all began in the thirties。 I can almost remember it； the people rallying to the call； hearing and obeying
But Sabat heard only one sound； the soft chuckle that was undoubtedly Quentin's weakening that tiny spark of helpless resistance that still burned inside him。 For now truly Sabat was Quentin reborn to a new life after the unholy mating with Lilith； Goddess of Darkness； a uniting of terrible evils that were even now spawning the holocaust which would destroy not just Britain but the whole of the civilised world。 And Sabat was now a part of that awful alliance； powerless to fight back； not even his own death would release him from the role of treachery which was now his！
CHAPTER TEN
SABAT WAS back in his own home by early evening。 Outwardly nothing had changed。 He parked the Daimler in the garage； let himself into the house； stood in the hall trying to collect his thoughts。 A mixture of familiarity and strangeness； a feeling that he ought not to be here； that he was an intruder in his own domain； remembering events as though he had been a mere spectator to them； that they had happened to somebody else。 And Quentin no longer troubled him because he was Quentin。
Sabat unlocked the door of the gymnasium； went down the steps and switched the lights on。 Emotionlessly he surveyed the scene； the three huddled denim…clad bodies。 All dead。 After dark he would dispose of them； three more dead skinheads were not going to arouse a lot of police interest。
Back upstairs he opened the cocktail cabinet； not so much as glancing at the whisky or the bottle of peppermint cordial。 He poured himself a generous measure of gin； a drink which previously he had always found distasteful； a fiery acid in his throat。 Now he tossed it back with relish； refilled his glass。 Quentin had always preferred gin； he had been an alcoholic at one stage of his black career。
Suddenly Sabat was aware of his own tiredness； a drowsiness which had been creeping up on him ever since he had deposited the Lealans at Heathrow。 Now that he was alone he experienced an overwhelming desire to sleep； he began to drag himself wearily up the stairs still clutching the tumbler of gin in his hand。
He pushed open the bedroom door and recoiled； the glass falling from his hand and bouncing on the carpet； a bestial snarl of fear ing from his lips。 His skin prickled with a sensation akin to pins and needles； droplets of sweat oozing on to his forehead。 Crouching there； he stared into the room； and knew instantly why he could not enter。 Because of the pentagram chalked on the floorboards beneath the carpet； a five…pointed star designed to repel all evil entities。 And now Sabat was one of those same dark forces which he had fought in the past！
He cursed； but knew that there was no way he could go inside there。 Backing away to the stairs； his terror subsiding with each yard he retreated； shaking a fist in futile frustration。
Back downstairs he stretched himself out on the couch in the lounge； closed his eyes； prepared to submit to the weariness which engulfed him； exhausted； yet he was unable to relax。 Tension； an unevenness in the way he breathed； his muscles taut； and as he slid into an uneasy slumber he knew only too well what was happening to him。 His astral body was disturbed； restless； eager to wander far a field again。 Normally he would not have worried； only this time it was Quentin's astral body which would be projected into unknown spheres； a spirit of evil over which Sabat had no control。 And there was no way he could prevent it from leaving him！
It left him in an almost desperate rush； a sudden dash for freedom； soaring high into the darkening sky； a child's kite that had broken free of its mooring and now had a will of its own。 Sabat glanced down； saw the brightly lit city streets； cinema and theatre goers bent on enjoying themselves； heedless of the awful street battle which had taken place only a few miles away。 U did not concern them。
Going on up until he could no longer make out what lay below； hurtling through a black night sky as though some unknown force was summoning him to an appointed place。 Then the darkness gave way to light； sunlight that scorched and burned and Sabat knew only too well the landscape upon which he alighted 。 。 。 thai same arid wasteland where there was everlasting carnage； where men died horribly and the vultures fed hungrily。 The war where the Powers of Light battled against the Powers of Darkness； where the Left Hand Path terminated because until Evil conquered it could not cross this blood…soaked desert。 Only this time for Sabat it was different； he was a skulking dark…skinned warrior and very much afraid！
The heat was worse than he had ever known it； seeming to…shrivel his dusky skin； sapping his strength。 For surely this was hell； a land burned up by the sun's fire with the smell of death heavy in the air。 Soon he would e upon the battlefield； himself an outcast in this place should any still live。
He had not expected to e upon the girl。 She lay there naked in the shallow hollow and at first he thought she was dead。 There was something familiar about her； the fair skin； matted with dried blood so that it was difficult to make out the extent of her wounds； the straggling auburn hair； and even as he stood looking down upon her she began to move； dragging herself up on to her side； staring up at him her face racked with agony。 He started； recoiled； her lips moved； and somehow she got the words out。 'Help me； Sabat！'
For a split second her own pain flooded over Sabat； a knife turning in his stomach； the bile rising into his throat。 But with a harsh mocking laugh he dispelled both pity and guilt。 'Ilona； so you also have found your way here。 But how is it that a whore is of the fair…skinned race in this land？'
Her hand went to her mouth in shock and horror； a pet dog going to its master for affection and suddenly finding itself unmercifully kicked。 Tears in Ilona's eyes； Sabat could also see the deep circular wo