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in her house of filth； a rear doorway that looked as though it had not been used for years but he could take no chances。 In a matter of seconds he had fixed one of those short lengths of rope to its woodwork； securing it in three places with a dab of plastic putty； a triangular shaped hempen emblem that was so vital to this night's success。 And as he stepped back he murmured a few words that had an affinity with the Sephirotic Tree。
A few minutes later he was standing at the front door of the house； glancing about him but seeing only darkness and a faint distant light that penetrated from the square。 This time his fingers shook as he affixed the second piece of rope； his lips trembling as he uttered those words。 For truly now the dice was cast and the oute of this night rested with powers other than his own。
Even as he stepped back to survey his handiwork with eyes that had been trained to operate in the darkness some sense warned him that he was not alone and this saved him from instant death； a lunge that missed him fractionally； a sharp intake of breath and Sabat was grappling with an unknown assailant； fighting for his life and soul。
Sabat secured a grip on the arm which had delivered the blow； jerked it up and then downwards with a sudden deft movement； heard bone crack and a metallic sound as something struck the cobbles。 A cry of pain but Sabat's other hand was already closing on that windpipe and stifling it。 He felt and smelted rather than saw a youth in ragged stinking denims； the eyes blazing a hateful fanaticism that transcended pain； a Kamakazi pilot obsessed with carrying out his orders 。 。 。 the guardian of the Gateway to Evil！
Sabat's fingers loosened their hold on that neck but only for a split second； going up； extending； flexing。 The blow was short and sharp； expertise over force； a karate neck…chop that found its mark with a dull thud。 The other had no time to muster that cry again scarcely a grunt as his body sagged forward； the head lolling at a grotesque angle。 Dead！
Sabat lowered the corpse down； dragged it into the darkest shadows； picked up the fallen blood gun and then returned to the door。 He was not even breathing quickly； tense not because of what had happened but because of what lay ahead。
He tried the dilapidated knob gently； the sliver of steel in his other hand； an instrument which would open almost any lock。 But he did not need to use it。 With a faint creak the door of CatrionaLealan's abode swung gently open！
Sabat eased himself inside； closed the door behind him； stood there in the darkness waiting for his eyes to adjust to a blackness that was denser than' the night…time shadows * outside。 Listening； his ears tuned to pick up the slightest i sound； his every sense at full stretch。 Nothing but silence。 And that silence was far more terrible than the howling of evil spirits from beyond the grave。
His first thought was that perhaps the Lealans had flown； that Catriona with the guile of Lilith sensed his ing。 But no； he knew they were here 。 。 。 somewhere！ Because he felt the coldness； the presence of evil； a sensation that had him taking one of those tiny crucifixes out of his pocket； holding it up。 And there were words that he must utter； fearlessly； calling upon his faith not to desert him in this desperate hour。 He must speak them now whilst he was still able。
'Deliver this house；' a cracked whisper that seemed to vibrate as though suddenly Quentin was trying to distract him； a radio operator attempting to scramble a message； 'from all evil spirits； all vain imaginations； projections； and phantasms； and all deceits of the evil one； and bid them harm no one but depart to the place appointed them； there to remain forever。 God； Incarnate God； who came to give peace； bring peace。'
Sabat was sweating profusely with the effort； a sudden feeling that all his strength was being drained from him。 He filled his lungs； a desperate shout that echoed back at him off the walls。 'God； the Son of God； who by death destroyed death； and overcame him who had the power of death。 Beat down Satan quickly！'
One moment of pregnant silence； followed by a loud crack； a vibration as though the whole building had suddenly lurched； its foundations caught by the tremors of some distant earthquake。
And in that instant lights came on； a dusty bulb suspended from the ceiling above him by a length of flex； another at the head of the stairs。 Dim light that blinded by its suddenness； had Sabat covering his eyes to shut it out； crying out with the pain in his tortured eyes。
Then he could see again； blurred vision fighting to adjust itself； but sufficient to make out the tall slim figure of Catriona Lealan staring down at him from the landing above。
She was naked except for a black shawl draped loosely about her shoulders； her flesh so pale that she might have been a corpse except that her lips were full red； a liquid crimson that smeared down on to her chin； eyes glowing with a hatred that went far beyond mortal fury。
'Sabat！' She was trembling with the rage that had a hold on her。 'Still you try to thwart me with your puny power。 But it is useless； for now I am Lilith and this night shall see my rise to power； this city and many others throughout the world shall run red with blood for already my armies are on the march。'
Sabat felt himself wilting； the arm holding the crucifix sinking down as though the weight of the silver was too heavy for it； the fingers opening up； the tiny cross falling and bouncing on the wooden boards。 Those eyes； oh God； he could feel their power just as he had that night at Langdon Manor； burning into his own。 Fighting against it； his faith slipping from him； trying to clutch at it。 Failing。
'e；' a staccato mand that had Sabat moving forward； mounting the stairs。 'For you shall see the extent of my power before you die； before your soul is destroyed so that Quentin may rise again。 Once I offered you a part in my plans but you spurned me and 1 dare not risk your treachery again。'
She was gliding on ahead of him； her back contemptuously turned on him； scorning his ability to attack her； pushing open the door of the upper room； standing back so that he could see inside。
Oh God； if was identical to the room where Pierre Vallin had made his unholy vows； the same altar and box cradle in the corner； a whimpering infant in the soiled and bloodstained blankets； another lying before the inverted crucifix； its throat gashed open。 And Vallin； too； just as he had been then； five centuries ago； a senile wizened filthy excuse for humanity grovelling on the floor； muttering unintelligibly！
'It is now as it was then；' Catriona cackled。 'Pierre； or Vince as you know him； has e to this； for his power was but mortal fanatical desire； as was the one whose life he lived before。 So he must cringe and serve； in the same way that I hoped you might； Sabat； but alas you are too dangerous and only the total destruction of your body and soul remains。 Already I can hear the screams on the streets； smell the b