“Then we can begin. Do we have the raven’s blood, Mrs Crocombe?”
“Yes, sir,” she says.
I take the vessel from her and I pour a circle on the floor, a nearly perfect orb inside which evil will take form. Everybody looks on solemnly as I do the one thing a demon slayer must never do: summon a demon.
“I summon you, demon who has worn the face of Jonah Bright! I command you into my presence.”
Jonah appears inside the pentagram, looking thoroughly annoyed. His red hair is still burning with eternal Hell-flame, but the rest of his visage is intact so he can emote his disdain for me properly. "What do you want? Did I forget to send a wedding gift to the happy couple? Want a toaster that burns pentagrams into toast? That would actually be very cool."
"I have called you forth with an offer.”
"What could you offer me?”
“The same covenant I made with Crichton. I am offering you a path to salvation through service.”
“No, thanks.”
He's a little bastard.
“Has an eternity in Hades not brought you to the point you want to bask in the forgiveness of the Lord? There is a path to salvation, here, on this earth. I will not offer it twice.”
“Well, maybe you should. Because I'm telling you to fuck off." Jonah laughs. "I came to destroy you all once, and now you're telling me… Wait. Oh!” His expression changes. “I know what happened. You've failed another angel blood, haven't you! You really have no luck with their line. You're not a very good priest, Bryn. And it shows, because you're calling on demons to solve your problems.”
"What I said,” Steven mutters. "Can't solve evil with a demon.”
“I’m going,” Jonah laughs.
“No. You’re not. You’ve been summoned. You’ll remain summoned until I banish you.”
“Whatever,” Jonah says. “I don’t care. I can stay in this circle for as long as you like. Gives me the chance to tell you exactly what I think of you.”
I try another angle. A desperate, probably stupid angle. “You were her brother. Or at least you became her brother. You spent nine years by her side.”
“Tormenting her, yes.”
“Still, even a twisted little creature like you bonds after nine long years of shared adversity.”
“No. I was going to sell her, and…”
“And the rest. Have no fear. I have not mistaken you for anything remotely resembling good. If you will not become a service demon, then do this. I will exchange one member of the Brotherhood for one act of service from you. You can have one of us to torture forever in the dankest pits of your realm.”
“That is a more appealing deal,” Jonah admits. “But taking a human through the barrier while still alive is almost impossible.”
“Almost. There is one exception. One who has taken the vows of demon slaying, pledged himself to the preservation of the angelic, and laid his soul down as forfeit. He can go straight to Hell at any time.”
“You know you’re talking about yourself, don’t you,” Jonah says. He looks around us all. “He knows he’s talking about himself, right?”
Nina
Another day has passed, or maybe it has been a week, or maybe just a few hours. I have lost track of time. My only marker is when Craig comes, feeds me out of a jar of baby food from the remnants box, and leaves again. Yesterday was pear and carrot. Today was apple and beef. They mix truly strange foods together for infants. I’m not sure I would have ever bothered to eat solid food if this had been what was offered to me.
“Open wide!” He makes a cooing sound that infuriates me, but what choice do I have? Bound to a bed, I am absolutely at his mercy — and he has none. He has been hollowed out by his anger. What’s left is nothing but a burning desire for revenge.
“Stop taking my blood,” I grumble around the reluctant spoonful.
“Oh, I’m not going to do that. Your blood is selling for tens of thousands of pounds. I’ve already paid my mortgage off with what I’ve taken from you. You're lucky you’re precious, or I would have strung you up the day you were married. Right when it would hurt him the most. I would have waited until you said your vows and I would have taken you…”
I tune out the worst parts of his vile fantasies. I am becoming accustomed to being horrified into submission by discovering the true and awful nature of those I am related to.
I am in the process of refusing another spoonful when the door opens. That’s weird. I watched him lock it behind him when he came in. Maybe someone else has a key. Or maybe someone else doesn’t have to abide by the laws of men.
Jonah walks in. Real Jonah. Proper Jonah. Not on fire and rotting in front of me, Jonah. I must be absolutely delirious now with blood loss and fear. Either that, or a miracle has occurred. Or whatever the opposite of a miracle is. I restrain the urge to call out to him. I know Jonah is not what he seems, has never been what he seems. If Jonah is here, then trouble is not far away.