“Enough,” Bael roared. “You want me, Exorcist, you have me. Call all the little names you want. They do not hear you. They do not care.Youare alone!”
The front door suddenly burst open.
The wards over the frame flared, but someone had already keyed themselves in.
“Where is she?” Virgil shouted. “Peter!”
I spun around so fast my vision blurred. He stood in the doorway, coat flared, hair damp with sweat, eyes wild. He had a rosary wrapped around one fist and a knife in his other hand. He looked past me toward the circle and saw Grace.
His face crumpled. “No,” I said.
My voice broke out of the ritual for the first time. “Virgil, get out. Now. Out.”
He stepped forward instead. “I warned you he’d come back,” he said, voice rough. “You think I am stayin’ on the sidelines while he wears my baby?”
“Virgil, you step over that line, and he will go for you,” I said. “You know his taste. You know he wants to gloat. Do not give him the chance.”
Bael laughed through Grace’s mouth. The sound filled the shop. Low at first, then higher, more pleased.
“Peter,” he said. “You invited a guest. You did not tell me the old man would join us.”
Virgil froze just short of the salt. “Bael,” he said. “You son of a bitch.”
Grace’s head turned toward him. Bael smiled with her lips.
“I told you I would return,” he said. “You kept your promise. You brought me such a gift. Your firstborn. You wrapped her up and dropped her at his feet, and he opened the door for me. Thank you.”
Virgil stepped closer. He nearly shook with rage.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit,” he said. “I will see you in Hell.”
“You will,” Bael said.
His hand rose. He did not move from the chair. He did not lift his arm high. He just curled his fingers and Virgil’s body jerked off the floor.
He rose into the air, boots dangling. The knife dropped from his hand and hit the boards with a dull thud. The rosary slipped from his fingers and swung on his wrist.
His eyes went wide. His hands clawed at his throat, trying to tear away invisible fingers.
“Stop!” I screamed. “Bael, you want me, you take me. Leave him!”
Bael ignored me. He turned Grace’s face toward Virgil and tilted her head.
“You warned me once,” he said through her. “You told me you would hunt me. You failed. Now you watch me finish what I started. A debt repaid.”
Virgil’s gaze locked on Grace. For one second, I saw his daughter there. Not the demon. Not the mark. Just a father looking at his child.
“I love…” he started.
Bael twisted his fingers, and Virgil’s neck snapped. The sound was sharp and final.
His body dropped and he hit the floor in a heap, limbs at wrong angles, his eyes still open.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then I crossed the circle.
The salt burned my boots, but I did not stop. I dropped to my knees beside him and lifted his head into my hands.
His skin cooled fast under my fingers. His eyes stared past me. Everything that made him Virgil had already gone.
