“Landon.” Thomas was at my side. He rolled me onto my back and pulled a flask from the pocket of his pants. He spoke the beautiful language of the angels as he poured the holy water over the wound and the burn slowly began to heal. I wasn’t going to die, so I turned my attention to Charis.

  She and Cho were still locked in melee, but I could see the archvampire was losing. Even with the strength he had gained from my blood, even with his speed, he was struggling against the blinding light of the blessed sword. He cringed every time it came near, shying away from its brightness and losing the motion of the attack. He tried to defend himself with fire, spreading it across his body the way Reyzl had, giving Charis a small measure of pause.

  The sword was immune though, and she was relentless against his defenses, each failed deflection opening a wound on the demon that shined with white light. He had a dozen scores on his arms, and he screamed in anger and agony while she pounded against him. Then, it was over. The blade made it past his arms and claws, digging in and cutting him open from chest to pelvis. The white light was an infection spreading quickly across his body and reducing him to ash.

  “That was for Joseph,” I heard her whisper, standing over the pile of dust. She spit on it, and then waved her arm. A sudden gust of wind scattered it off the side of the ship and out over the water. The white flame on the blade expanded out and vanished.

  She rushed back over to where I lay, a satisfied smile creasing her face, her eyes moist. “Are you okay?” she asked me, leaning down and looking outward with a protective gaze.

  I pushed myself to a sitting position, feeling the last of the burns fade away below the holy water. My strength returning, I focused on Ulnyx, smothering him with my power, ensuring he would stay buried and promising myself to work it out with him later.

  “I will be, thanks to Thomas,” I said. I used my Sight, finding Izak, Obi, and Melody scattered on the other side of the deck. Where was Zeek? “Zeek?” I asked, feeling sick.

  Charis shook her head. “He didn’t make it,” she said, fighting further tears. “He saved my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “I’m sorry as well,” Thomas said.

  “That thing with the sword, what was that?” I asked.

  “The light of Heaven,” she replied. “This sword belonged to Malize. He traded with me long ago, but warned me not to use it except to fight against the Beast. He said the archangels would know if his blade had been used, and they would be watching. You already know what could happen if they were to decide to intervene here.”

  A strange idea, Heaven watching us from above. I wasn’t quite ready for them to come down and start Armageddon yet.

  “They’re all dead,” Obi reported. He and Melody approached together, the angel helping him support his weight.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  “It’s just a scratch,” Obi replied. “It’ll heal. Mel already treated it.” Mel? He looked at her with a big smile. The angel blushed and looked away. “Bastards destroyed my Eagle though.”

  “I’m sure you can get another one. Izak!” I shouted the demon’s name when I saw him approach through the black smoke of the smoldering aircraft wreckage. His shirt was hanging in tatters, but he was otherwise unharmed. “So, will somebody explain what I missed?”

  Obi gently extracted himself from Melody. “Cho showed up at the Belmont, looking for you, I think. Or maybe just looking for your books - he didn’t bother to say. Thomas here had already gone through the trouble of memorizing all of the important text, and he had Mel do the same in case he didn’t make it.”

  “You can do that?” I asked him. He nodded. Impressive.

  “Yeah, so we burned all the stuff in case he wanted it for himself, and we took off. His demon friends were chasing us, and man, I didn’t think we were going to get away, but then Mephistopheles over there shows up with another big nasty furball in tow and lays hellish waste to them.”

  I tilted my head. “Whoa, hold up. What did you just call Izak?”

  Obi looked at the fiend, who nodded. “Man, you didn’t know that Izak is Mephistopheles? Did you actually read any of those books?”

  My head was spinning. I had only been interested in the mark. I hadn’t read the rest of the books.

  “You had a text from the 12th century that translates to ‘A History of Devils,’”Thomas explained. “There was a sketch in there of the demon Mephisto that had a pretty uncanny likeness.”

  “But isn’t Mephistopheles a direct servant of Lucifer?” Charis asked, looking at the fiend.

  “He was,” Thomas said. “A very powerful, intelligent, and sly agent of the First Fallen. If you’re familiar with Faust, you have a good idea of his position in Hell. It’s not wholly accurate, but its close enough.”

  I remembered the memory of Josette in her cell, with the fiend’s head resting in her lap. No wonder he reacted the way he did. He was an angel once, and couldn’t be redeemed by God. He had redeemed himself to me.

  “And me,” Josette said. “No matter what he once was, he is not that thing today.” I could feel her heart burning for him, wishing for an end to his suffering, and joyous at his salvation.

  “So, you returned to this world as an archfiend, until Gervais tricked you, and branded you?” I asked. He nodded. “He fell in love with Josette while she was being held captive, and then with Sarah. That’s why he’s here now, helping us. She saved him.”

  “Yeah well, he saved me,” Obi said. “Heck, he saved all of us. Like I was saying, Cho had us dead to rights until he came along. After that, I told him where I was going to tell you to meet, and he and Lylyx disappeared for a while. She said they’d gone to convince that little guy you work with to tell Cho where you would be. He and Lylyx made themselves scarce, and Cho came and collected us to use as bait. He never had a clue Yuli was double-crossing him.”

  “How much did you have to give him?” I asked the fiend.

  He put his palms out and pushed up. A lot. Of course.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re with us,” I said. “Who else knows who you really are?”

  He pointed at us.

  “Good. They know you’re a badass, but they don’t know how badass. We can use that to our advantage.” I held out my hand. “In any case, it’s nice to meet you, Mephistopheles.”

  Izak started to reach out for my hand, but then scowled and waved his hand. I could guess at the meaning.

  “You prefer Izak?” I asked. He nodded. I could understand why. Once it had been a curse, a name given to him by his captor. Now it was a blessing, the name spoken by his savior.

  “So, now what?” Charis asked. “We need to get the Bible and decrypt the message. Landon, you know who knows where it is.”

  I smiled. “I do, and it’s time I paid him a visit,” I said, closing my eyes. I focused on the energy flowing from Purgatory, taking hold of it and letting it pull me in.

  Chapter 24

  I found him sitting on a beach, the warm sun shining down on him, reflecting off his nearly bald head. He was wearing a pair of simple white linen pants rolled up to his knees, and he had his toes dug deep into the sand. His chest was bare, with a small patch of wispy white hair vibrating in the soft sea breeze.

  “Satan’s Bible?” I asked him as I approached. He didn’t move from his position, or acknowledge me at all. He just sat there, staring out at the ocean. I took a seat next to him. “Dante?” Nothing. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? A history of the angels, written in Lucifer’s own hand?”

  He still didn’t move. He just stared out at the ocean. I leaned over so I could see his face more clearly. It was pained.

  “Damn it, Dante, talk to me,” I yelled. “I did everything you asked me to do. You owe me that much.”

  I watched his adam’s apple slide down and back up. He licked his lips. “Signore,” he said. “Mr. Ross has told me what is happening in your world. I have been sitting here for some time, waiting for you to return; trying to find some way to explain, and some way to repent. But God doesn’t hear me. Neither does Lucifer. Nobody hears me.”

  “I’m listening,” I said, releasing my anger. There was no point to it.

  He turned his head at last, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I don’t know how familiar you are with the history of my life. There was a time when I was exiled from my home of Florence by the Black Guelphs. It was a very difficult time for me, and I spent many months fighting the injustice that had been done. In time, my goals brought me to the Tuscan city of Lucca. It was there that I met Gentucca.”

  He closed his eyes, remembering her. “As a mortal, I did not know it at the time, but she was a Turned. She had made a deal with a demon in exchange for great beauty in both the body and soul, and it was this beauty that lured me in. I fell in love with Gentucca, or at least I believed I had.

  “One night as I was writing, she brought me a scroll. It was an old scroll, made of papyrus, but somehow untarnished and in perfect condition despite its age. She taught me to read its language, the language of the angels. She said her master had taught her to read it. She showed me the mark.

  “She spoke to me of the injustice of the world. The suffering I had been through, and the suffering of others. I was a Godly man, and I argued against her words, refusing to believe in her twisted truths. That was the night that I left her.”

  He sighed deeply, picking up a handful of sand and letting it slide through his fingers, watching each grain trickle back to their place on the beach. “She planted a seed of doubt in my mind. I set upon learning all that I could about the Beast, and its servants. I traveled, seeking more proof, more texts, while at the same time desperately trying to restore my name and heritage and living a life of Godly piety.

  “Then, one night while I was at my desk, a man came to me. He did not tell me his name, but he asked me if I would like to go on the journey of a lifetime. It was this night that I learned the truth about the Divine, this night that I was touched by the caretaker of Purgatory.” He closed his eyes, thinking back on that moment. A moment he had described to me once before, under a completely different pretense. “It was this journey that became the foundation of my Comedy.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, I took some poetic license, but I did meet God, or at the very least some part of Him. I asked Him about the mark, and about the Beast, but was denied.”

  “Who was the man?” I asked him. “Not Virgil.”

  He shook his head. “No, not Virgil. I do not know who he was, for he would give me no name. I have never seen or heard from him again. He was a powerful Divine, I know that for sure, to be able to travel to each of the realms.”

  I was curious, but it didn’t really matter. “So you came back to the mortal world inspired to write the Divine Comedy. How did you wind up in control of Satan’s Bible?”

  “That is simple, signore,” he said. “I stole it.”

  “What do you mean, you stole it?” I asked.

  “I did not know it was Lucifer’s Book when I took it,” he said. “The night I left Gentucca, I packed the scroll with my belongings and left with it. As I said, she planted a seed, and the seed began to grow.”

  “They didn’t come for you though,” I pointed out. “They let you keep it. They let you protect it.”

  “They did after my visit to Heaven. After He refused to answer my questions about the Beast. After I learned about the balance, and His intentions for mankind. I was angry with Him. I wrote a letter to Gentucca, and told her I wanted to become a servant. It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

  “Not the worst mistake,” I said.

  “I did not know what Sarah was, signore. You never told me. I did not know they would use her to free the Beast. I was a servant, it is true. Even after I died and came to this place I was a servant. I tried to go back to God. I begged for entry, to speak to Him of the balance, and of the Beast. He rejected me, refusing to grant me an audience. Even His son rejected me. For many years I believed that He did not care. Not about me, not about mankind, not about anything. I wanted to see Him be forced to care, to fight, to possibly die or lose all that He had created. It was a blackness in my soul.

  “Yet the embers of that hatred cooled, and I no longer wished to see the Beast reborn. I focused my energies instead on protecting mankind, by searching for Charis, and then you, and by keeping the secret of the Bible locked with me here. You see, signore, if nobody could get the Bible, and nobody could get me, then the Beast could never be freed.”

  “I don’t know how, but you must be lying to me,” I said. “Rebecca knows where to find the Beast. From what I understand, she and Sarah are on their way there right now. How would they know where to find it, if you didn’t tell them?”

  He hung his head. “Yes, Mr. Ross has told me this. He is out seeking a way to stop them. But, signore, I do not lie to you. I have never lied to you. I have omitted things, and I have altered the sequence of things, but I have not lied. I never told Rebecca what was in the Bible, and she could not have discovered it for herself.”

  “You have lied,” I insisted, growing frustrated. “You told me Mephistopheles’ Collectors had come for me, the day we met. They tried to decapitate me right in front of you. I just met Mephistopheles. Actually, I’ve known him for a while under a different name. He’s been in the mortal realm for at least three hundred years.”

  “Yet I knew them best as his Collectors,” he replied, getting angry. “No matter what they were when they appeared, that is how I identified them. You think things that are truths are lies because you do not understand them, but there are many ways to lie, and many ways to not lie. Such a power is useful, but it is not all encompassing. I did not tell Rebecca where to find the Bible, and I did not tell her what it contained.”

  “Then how?” I asked, backing down. “How could she know where to go?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry, signore. I do not know.”

  “I need the Bible,” I said. “I need it fast, or the Beast is going to escape.”

  “It will do you no good without the rest of the texts,” he replied, defeated.

  “I have the texts. I’ve been collecting them for the last three years. Tell me where to find the Bible.”

  He seemed surprised, but pleased. His whole woe-is-me demeanor changed, and he sprang to his feet. “Then there is still time?” he asked.

  “If we hurry. Where is it?” I asked again.

  He laughed. “Where do you find any book, signore? You go to the library.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The library, signore. It’s a place where they have many books. The Devil’s Bible is sitting on a shelf at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.”

  Hiding in plain site. I should have known. “Wouldn’t a scroll stand out a bit?”

  “It was a scroll then,” he said. “It isn’t a scroll now. It is glamoured to look like a United States income tax law book. I placed the glamour myself with the full power of Purgatory. It is invisible to others, mortal or Divine.”

  Again, I wondered how Rebecca knew where to go. Had she somehow found the Bible without Dante’s knowledge?

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m in New York right now, but I should be able to get to D.C pretty quickly, as long as Charis has a rift handy. Once I’m there I’ll come get you, and you can show us which book it is.”

  His face turned more pale than it already was. “Wait, signore. Did you just say Charis?”

  I had, without thinking anything of it, but Dante thought she was dead. Or did he? Truth and the truth were two different things. “Yes. She isn’t dead, you know.”

  “I know,” he said. “But she has abandoned the balance, and fights for Hell. You know what she did to get the Grail. How can we be sure she isn’t a servant?”

  It took me a few heartbeats to decide how much to tell him. Charis had warned me not to trust him too far, and with all of his sly manipulations of truth, and the fact that he had never bothered to mention his involvement with the Beast, I was inclined to agree.

  “I’m sure she isn’t,” I said. “We connected.”

  His eyes widened. I could sense the storm of his anger growing behind them, but for once he managed to hold it at bay. “You connected?”

  “I thought you would be happy about that. Isn’t that what you wanted the diuscrucis to become?”

  “There was a time when I did. A time when I had put my faith in her.” He put his hand on his chin and looked thoughtful. “Perhaps this is good news after all. She abandoned the balance, but maybe you can bring her back to it. She is helping you to stop the Beast?”

  “Yes.”

  “It will be interesting to see her again,” he said. “We did not part on good terms.”

  I was sure they didn’t. I put my hand on the poet’s shoulder. “We’ve all made mistakes,” I said. “But we need to drop all the crap for now and just deal with the Beast. You two can have a heart-to-heart, or rip each other apart, or whatever later.”

  He nodded. “Of course, you are right, signore.” He changed then, his bare chest and linen pants replaced with a black t-shirt and combat fatigues. He looked like a skinny, old Rambo. “Only one change. You don’t need a rift to get to Washington. I will take you there.”

  He had transported me before, but only a few blocks. This was a bit further. “You can do that?”

  “It will not be easy for me, and it will put a strain on the equilibrium of our realms, but I can take you. Desperate times, signore.”

  “Can you take others too? I don’t have the texts myself. The angel Thomas has them in his head.”

  He didn’t look happy about that piece of information. He sighed. “I can only take those who are pledged to Purgatory. I’m sorry.”