Black London 05 - Soul Trade

skulls of the dead staringendlessly into the bloodred skies of Hell.
    “So I’ve heard,” Pete murmured, sick and dizzy on the glimpse of the demon’s psyche her talent triggered.
    “The last of your kind, and you fight and you fight to stop what’s coming, but you can’t avoid it, Petunia,” Belial said. “You can only take your place, the one you like to pretend doesn’t exist.” He moved his hand away and smiled at her, thin andentirely too knowing. “But it does. Nergal tried and the Morrigan tried and Abbadon himself tried to use you, and it. But it wasn’t theirs to begin, was it? It’s always belonged to you. The last Weir, the one who will stand at the eye of the storm when it finally comes.”
    Pete could barely get the words out, her throat raw and swollen as if she’d been screaming for hours. “What storm? What areyou talking about?”
    “The end.” Belial shrugged. “Demons are pragmatic, Pete. Worlds rise, worlds fall. Things end. And all of this, what’s happened here in this nasty little village, the old gods stirring, the bleeding of the Black into everything else, it’s all a signal that the countdown has started flipping over. I’m not upset by it, but I am bemused that you refuse to see the truth.”
    Peteglared up at the demon. “I’m sure you’ll tell me, so out with it.”
    “The truth is that you have always been the beginning of the end,” Belial said. “The one who’ll finally bring wrath and ruin to the Black. You can pretend every one of these things is coincidence, that you’re an ignorant pawn, that you don’t understand your talent, but you’re lying to yourself.” Belial lit another cigarette, drewlong and hard, and exhaled a cloud of blue-tinged smoke. “The truth is, you were always meant to end up right here, Pete. The moment you were born, everything you’ve done since, has all led to right here. And you are the beginning of the end of all things. You always have been, and when it happens, all you can really do is be ready.”
    He put out his cigarette and straightened his tie. “So theonly advice I have for you is don’t stop it. Don’t fight it. Let Purgatory spread. And be ready to rise to your rightful place in the aftermath.”
    He craned his neck and grinned at Pete as she felt her cheeks grow hot with rage. “I really came here to talk to you about Jack, but it looks as if your little rescue party has arrived, and as I have no truck with demon hunters, I’m going to make myselfscarce.”
    “Wait!” Pete shouted, grabbing for him and finding only smoke. “What about Jack?”
    “If you survive this, we’ll talk again,” Belial said. “I did like this world, but there’s no stopping it now. Good-bye, Pete.”
    Before she could blink, he was gone, leaving only the tinge of cigarettes and black magic behind.
    “Fucking demons,” Pete hissed, as Donovan, Jack, and Margaret appeared fromone street, while Morwenna’s fleet of black cars appeared from the other, screeching to a stop in the square.
    Pete looked between them, then took a deep breath of cold air that burned her lungs all the way down. Caught in the middle, and no help for it.
    As usual.

 
    23.
    Morwenna stepped from her black Mercedes, trailed by Victor, and clacked across the square on her heels to Pete. “Is that him?” she asked, pointing at Donovan.
    “That’s him,” Pete confirmed. Morwenna started to brush her aside, but Pete put her hand on Morwenna’s shoulder.
    “There’s just a few things we need to get straight,” Pete said.
    Morwenna looked at Pete’s hand as if it had turnedinto a spider. “I beg your pardon?”
    “We did what you asked,” Pete said. She cast a look back at Jack and Donovan. Jack stood with Margaret, keeping himself between the Prometheans and the girl. Donovan fidgeted next to them, shooting Pete a glare that she felt could have melted her on the spot.
    “And I’m glad I was able to put my faith in you,” Morwenna said, trying to shove past Pete again.
    “That’s not it,” Pete said. “Before you go after Donovan, I want your promise that nothing will happen to Jack or Margaret, or Lily. That you’ll get us all out of here.”
    Morwenna gave her a condescending smile. “We’re not mobsters, Pete. We’ll take care of this.”
    Pete gripped Morwenna’s suit jacket, the soft wool prickling under her fingers. “Promise me,” she said. “None of us alone can breakthe hold this place has, so you promise me you’ll