Sacrifices Read Online Free PDF Page A

pages.”
    â€œAre we renegotiating now?”
    â€œNo. I just want to get paid.”
I want to have done this for
something. The whole reason for her getting involved with Karyn’s crew to begin with had been to supply themwith occult support on behalf of Sobell and to report back on their activities. In exchange, he’d offered mentoring and original pages from old grimoires. That seemed like a hundred years ago. Everything had gotten unimaginably more complicated since then.
    â€œI know it’s hard to imagine, but I’m in somewhat reduced circumstances at the moment. I assure you, you’ll be paid, in full, with interest, in the very instant that I can accommodate you.”
    She got up, casting one last glance at the screen of her phone before slipping it into her pocket. No messages.
    â€œBelial, would you like to join us?” Sobell asked.
    Genevieve followed Sobell’s gaze to the corner, where Belial had constructed a sort of den or lair for himself out of cubicle dividers. He could be heard in there, shuffling and mumbling, shouting at himself occasionally. Genevieve wished he’d stay in there. He was a demon, surely, but he wore the body of Hector, her first mentor, and in the rare moments when he wasn’t behaving in some eerie, inhuman, or outright terrifying fashion, she was amazed how easy it was to drape all her feelings and associations with Hector onto him. It was just a body, just a shape, and she should have known better, but her senses wanted to turn him into an old friend and give him trust he hadn’t earned and surely didn’t deserve.
    And that wasn’t the worst of it.
“I am large,”
Belial had said at one point.
“I contain multitudes.”
Whatever poor old Hector had done hadn’t just invited a single nasty thing in for lunch, but a whole swarm of them. Belial had been handing them out like poisoned candy, giving them to anyone he could.
    Like Anna,
Genevieve thought.
    â€œBelial,” Sobell called again, “we need to discuss matters pertaining to our continued survival on this plane, if you’d like to come help.”
    â€œDon’t patronize me, you useless fuck,” Belial snarled. A bony claw with blackened, blood-streaked nails clutched the metal edge of the divider, and Belial pulled himself out. The body he had taken over was in rough shape. Hewore gray sweatpants and a filthy tank top, and his beard and eyes were wild. He’d been scratching himself again, like a hyperactive junkie in the world’s worst need of a fix. Both upper arms were bloody messes, and Genevieve thought she saw a tattered strip of skin dangling, one end glued to the side of his hand with congealing blood.
    â€œWe’re going to need to find you a change of clothes,” Sobell said. “A shower and shave couldn’t hurt, either. You’re a trifle . . . conspicuous currently.”
    â€œLater.” Then, in a whisper, “
Later
. Later. Later.”
    Not too much later
,
Genevieve thought. Not if they were going out. The stink coming off the man’s body was dried blood, sweat, and a none-too-subtle rot that might be either overworn clothes or something worse. Some decay of the flesh. Genevieve hoped for the latter, hoped for some disease or necrosis that would kill the bastard, but she guessed it was the clothes. The sweatpants and tank top hadn’t been changed in what must have been weeks, and they were now smeared and stained with every kind of grime imaginable.
    Sobell held his smile. “Yes, of course. Later. Now, are we still agreed that we seek a relic?”
    Belial approached. Tran backed away, crossing her arms and looking on from the corner opposite his den.
    On the surface of the desk, Sobell had written the words Karyn had uttered during the ritual:
    In the valley of the garden, here in this Gomorrah, a man, naked, bound, and shot through with arrows, in dying finds