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'I could exorcise the church and its grounds； as I intended to do； anyway；' Sabat answered。
'No；' Sheenah snapped。 'You would be siding with the corrupt forces。 And； anyway； they are too strong for one man to take on； even you； Sabat。 Maybe it would have been better if I had died on Alena's sacrificial altar。 I'll probably die； anyway。 Oh God； we don't have a chance； any of us！'
'We'll fight；' Sabat's expression was one of determination； a hardening of his features which Kent remembered from their SAS days … his killing expression。 'But first we've got to survive this night。 If you'll both give me a hand we'll move the furniture out； roll the carpet back； and set up some kind of protection。 It's our only chance。'
Under normal circumstances Kent would have been sceptical； but these were no ordinary circumstances。 He worked alongside Sabat and Sheenah； moved everything out into the small hall； then watched fascinated as Sabat brought in his black crocodile…skin briefcase and began to unpack items which were foreign to the journalist。
The pentagram； carefully drawn by Sabat with a piece of chalk attached to a length of string； Sheenah the focal point； everything had to be so precise。 The way they worked； so meticulously； attention to every detail。 Five chalices of charged water； Sabat consecrating the fluid by lining up the forefingers of both hands； squinting down the digits as though he was opening fire with twin guns。 Kent's mouth went dry and he licked his lips nervously when he saw the water in the chalices bubbling as though by some invisible method of aeration。
'So far； so good；' Sabat was tense； looking drained。 'Now we must hurry。 No clothing must be worn within the circle tonight。'
Kent checked an immediate protest。 This was all going a bit too far； yet he had witnessed the happenings in the churchyard and its adjoining land only a short time ago； and they defied logical explanation。 The Fleet Street man was filled with embarrassment as he stepped naked into the pentagram； all his lifelong inhibitions screaming at him to protest as Sabat approached him and 'closed1 the nine openings of his body with charged water。 It made his skin crawl with revulsion。
Kent closed his eyes； thought maybe he was blushing but if he was； perhaps his plexion would disguise the fact。 Sheenah seemed totally unmoved by it all； helped Sabat with his own protections as efficiently and as unmoved as though she was administering some form of medicinal dressing。 In a way； that was what it was； Kent reflected as he stretched himself out on the blankets which Sabat had brought into the circle。 The fellow was too pernickety； insisted that all blankets and cushions were vacuumed first。 It was going a bit far！ Another thing； it was going to be bloody cold sleeping in the nude； he told himself。 Sabat had once confessed that he always slept naked； boasted that one might as well go to bed in a suit as wear pyjamas。 Well； even if it was okay by him； Kent felt a resentment towards this pandering to Sabat's whims。 He turned over； stared at the far wall； found himself counting the flowery patterns on the paper； an obsession like counting sheep； only he'd never felt less like sleep in his life before。 Before this night was over he was liable to bee very angry。
Sabat stretched out； found himself gazing at Sheenah。 The girl was lying on top of her pile of rugs； apparently perfectly relaxed； her eyes closed。 Damn it； why didn't the wench roll herself up in the blankets like Kent had done？ Was she deliberately trying to seduce him？ Sabat sensed a faint stirring in his loins。 That was something he could do without。 Christ； he hoped they didn't play on his major weakness again。 Any arousement； though； would be of his own making。 Inside this pentagram he was safe from the forces of darkness。 They could not influence him unless something went radically wrong and their defences were breached。
Sabat had rarely been so thorough as he had been tonight； simply because he could not take any chances。 They were hellishly powerful and he had aroused their wrath by the destruction of Alena； which meant they would not relent their efforts。 Either he destroyed them or they destroyed this trio； it was as simple as that。
Sabat was reminded once again of his voluntary circumcision only a few years ago。 A similar defence to this one had almost been catastrophic even though he had been particular in cleaning the room and discarding his clothes before entering the circle。 Yet a tiny evil entity had infiltrated his careful defences； a minute particle of dirt； almost invisible to the naked eye； lodged beneath his foreskin。 He had survived； but the importance of circumcision to any exorcist was made apparent to him。 Even now he could feel that scar throbbing as his arousement continued。 Slowly； almost guiltily； he slid a hand beneath the blanket； decided that there was only one way to satisfy his bodily craving。 Sheenah appeared to have fallen asleep。 Kent was lying staring the other way。 It would not take long。
Sabat's sexual desires began to escalate。 Every instinct urged him to throw off his rug； crawl across towards where Sheenah lay； take her。 He closed his eyes。 Oh God； the feeling was getting too much for him； a mounting burning lust that was fast getting out of control。
And then； loud and clear； vibrant in the nocturnal stillness of the house； the front doorbell shrilled！ Sabat hesitated； muttered a curse at this unexpected intrusion upon his bodily pleasures； and then the sweat of his naked trembling body chilled。
No way； at this late hour； could it be an ordinary caller！
CHAPTER SEVEN
'OPENUP； Sabat'
Sabat almost sprang to his feet； rushed blindly to obey。 Then he remembered； recognised the voice。 Quentin's！ Oh Christ； they'd nearly caught him napping； blurred his reasoning with sexual desire。 But how？ How had they got to him through the defences of the pentagram？
'What the hell 。 。 。 ' Kent was sitting up； clutching his blanket to his body with an almost schoolboyish inhibition。 'There's somebody at the door； Sabat。'
'A brilliant deduction；' Sabat's voice was loaded with sarcasm； possibly to disguise his own apprehension。 A general must never display fear in front of his troops。 'You could be right； Kent。 On the other hand you could be bloody wrong。'
'You're talking nonsense。 Of course there's somebody at the door。 They rang the bell。'
And as if to support the journalist's words the bell rang again。
'Well； aren't we going to answer it？' Kent was being angry。 'Go and see who it is； Sabat； for Christ's sake。'
'No；' Sabat stood up； aware that both Kent and Sheenah were staring at the nakedness of his lower body； 'I shall not。 Not under any circumstances！'
'I call that bloody unsociable；' Kent's whisper was loaded with rising fury。 'Not to mention just plain bloody rude and stupid。 Suppose it's something urgent。 The police； for instance。'
Then they'll get tired eventually and go away；' Sabat's eyes narrowed。 The warning systems in his body were screaming out at him。 Something was wrong with Kent！ Apart from the other's reluctance to spend the night here； there was something else … a growing rebellion； a determination to disobey orders。 And Sabat remembered again that somebody or something had penetrated the protections he had built up； found his Achilles' heel for the second time in one night； infiltrated the pentagram。
'We don't answer it and that's final；' his voice was a hoarse whisper that echoed in the bare room。 He dropped his gaze； saw his half…erection and knew that they were both looking at it； knew only too well what he had been doing when that damned bell rang。
This is getting beyond a joke；' Kent was struggling to his feet； still trying to clutch the blanket to his lower body。 Tn fact； it's obscene。 You've set this up deliberately； Sabat； for your own perverted pleasure。 You ought to be locked away！ Well； I'm not standing for it。 I'm getting my clothes and going back to the White Horse this very moment。 If you want to talk to me in the morning I'll be 。 。 。 '
Kent didn't see the blow ing； never even suspected that Sabat might take such drastic action； a fist that seemed faster than light itself； an indistinguishable blur that began somewhere around Mark Sabat's hip…level and ended with a crack like a child's cap pistol on the point of the journalist's jaw。
Kent never even grunted。 His head went back； his stocky body straightened up and began to totter。 Sabat caught him by the arm with that same superlative speed； pulled him forward and then； one…handed； lowered him back on to his blanket。 Kent's eyes were closed； just a trickle of blood from the corner of his lower lip and a bruise that was already beginning to spread across his jaw。
'Did you really have to hit him？' there was a note of reprimand in Sheenah's voice。
'There was no alternative。 He would have broken the circle。 Already there is a weak link somewhere here； something I have overlook