The Naming of the Beasts

I kicked off my shoes, shrugged my greatcoat on and walked back down to the front hall, taking care to make no sound as I passed Pen’s room. I unlocked the street door, feeling the skin between my shoulder blades prickle even though I knew rationally that the door - as a physical barrier - made no difference to whether or not Asmodeus could enter the house. It was Pen’s wards that were keeping him out, and nothing else.

Asmodeus was still standing in the same place, and he was still staring up at the window under the eaves where I’d been standing a minute before.

Mindful of what Pen had said about seeding the garden with stay-nots, I took a calculated risk and walked out onto the front step - two paces away from the house, then three. Asmodeus still didn’t move, but I didn’t take my eyes off him for a second. If he did attack, I wanted to be sure I could put the door - which Pen had blessed and anointed and talked to and generally strengthened with her own will every day for the past six or seven years - between us before he got in close enough to do me any damage.

‘The three stars in a row,’ I said, ‘that’s Orion’s belt.’

Asmodeus turned slightly to look at the constellation, which was right above us. He nodded.

‘Really?’ he demanded, in a grating, metal-on-metal voice.

‘Really.’

‘Well you know what that means, Castor.’

‘No. What does it mean?’

‘That Orion wasn’t considered a suicide risk.’ He grinned mirthlessly at his own joke, flashing teeth that didn’t look as though they’d fit inside a human mouth. Flesh is a plastic material to demons, but Asmodeus had never bothered to change Rafi’s body very much. It looked as though he’d done a fair bit of redecorating since I’d seen him last, though. He was both taller and broader across the shoulders, with muscular forearms which tautened the ripped fabric of his shirt. His arms looked longer, and so did his fingers - not long enough to make him look simian, but subtly out of proportion with the rest of the body.

‘Did you catch your bus okay?’ I asked.

Asmodeus stopped laughing. He shook his head at me disapprovingly.

‘I told you once that you were missing the big picture,’ he said. ‘That you don’t know the right questions to ask. That you have no idea what’s really happening, or how you fit into it.’

‘I remember,’ I agreed. ‘Didn’t stop me from whipping you back to kennel the last time you stuck your nose out.’

Asmodeus flexed those overlong fingers, very slowly. He seemed to be measuring the distance between us, and I tensed to run. Maybe Pen’s new stay-nots would hold the demon back, and if they broke maybe they’d still slow him down enough for me to get back over the threshold of the house, where the older, many-times-inscribed wards would protect me. I didn’t want to bet my life on those maybes.

But Asmodeus still didn’t move. ‘I’m kind of glad I didn’t finish you off last night,’ he grated. ‘I really ought to build up to it properly. It was just the heat of the moment. Seeing you there, and feeling Ditko pull back from the thought of it. He’s still seeing you as a way out, Castor. When you die, it’s gonna be a real blow to him. But personally I think that ship has sailed. I’m making my own arragements now.’

‘Me too,’ I said.

‘So I’m not here to kill you. Or Ditko’s whore. You can relax. I just wheeled him over to take a look at the old place.’ He snickered, making the noise a blade makes on a strop. ‘Build up his morale a little. You want to say hello?’

For a moment I thought I’d misheard him. ‘Say hello?’ I repeated stupidly.

‘To your old friend. He’s right here, listening. Just like he was last night. Fuck, wake the redhead up and she can even have a conjugal visit.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, ignoring this last suggestion. ‘I’d like to talk to him.’

The demon bowed his head and was silent for a moment. Then, still staring at the ground, he spoke in a different voice, a voice that was as faint as a day-old echo. ‘Fix?’

‘Rafi. I’m here.’

‘I know. I know. My God, Fix, he’s got me . . . staring out of the window here. I can’t stop him, but I have to watch . . .’ He gave a choking sob. ‘Ginny!’

‘Ginny got you into this mess in the first place, Rafi.’ It was meant to console him, but I realised even as I was saying it that it wouldn’t have that effect. ‘She was working for Anton Fanke - the grand panjandrum. She was just using you.’

‘We were using each other.’ Rafi’s voice was barely a whisper. I took a step forward, straining to hear it. ‘I knew what she was, Fix. And it’s not as though I loved her. I’ve never loved anyone except Pen. But . . .’ He gave another sob and lapsed into silence. One of the dark figure’s arms twitched slightly in a vague, abortive gesture - some random nerve impulse of Rafi’s getting past Asmodeus’ guard - but only for a fraction of a second. ‘She didn’t deserve what she got.’

‘I’m going to free you,’ I promised him.