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Barak looked uneasily at Estelle. “There is a passing reference to the House of Belial, and the assistance they offered in distributing the jewels. Couched in flowery language, of course, but the meaning is clear.”

“Are you saying that there are other Nephilim walking the Earth right now?” Jackson asked, face draining of colour.

“Not exactly! It suggests that there were at one time. That could have been hundreds of years ago. We are long lived, not immortal.”

“But it’s possible?” Lucien asked, shocked.

“Well, we’re here, and the world is a big place,” Barak conceded. He took a seat at the table as if all his energy had left him. “I’ve been mulling on it all day, trying not to see something where there is nothing, but it’s in the manifesto. I don’t think we can ignore it. It mentions certain jewels by name, too, and names his sword. They were names known only to his House.”

“Why?” Jackson asked.

“Names confer power and knowledge. I mean, obviously I don’t know if that was his sword’s name. Someone could be making it up, but it sounds plausible. Especially because it’s written in angelic script. It means Justice Bearer.”

“Have you told your brothers?” Jackson asked.

“No. I didn’t want to unduly worry them until I was sure. I also wanted Ash’s opinion. He’s good at this kind of thing.”

Jackson looked astonished. “I can’t believe you haven’t warned them after what happened last night.”

“Dealing with other Nephilim is a walk in the park compared to Belial. We have all done that thousands of times. And,” Barak held up a hand to stop Jackson interrupting, “I’m not worried. We would have seen signs by now.”

“But if there are other Nephilim, even one,” Lucien pointed out, as astonished as Jackson by Barak’s decision, “who wields Belial’s jewellery, like you all did, you know how it changes your abilities.”

“They would not reveal themselves so soon. There is too much at stake for them.”

Jackson snorted. “I hope you’re right, Barak, because otherwise your brothers could be marching into a death trap.”

Ash was as unnerved as his brothers as they searched Amato’s abandoned country residence. Its obvious decay was surprising. Why let such a place fall apart?

“Perhaps something illegal happened here,” he wondered aloud. “Maybe that’s why he let it rot.”

“You mean there might be bodies on the grounds?” Niel asked. “That wouldn’t surprise me from the look of the place. Or under the floorboards, perhaps. Maybe even bricked up in the walls.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “Good grief, you have a vivid imagination.”

“Would you put anything past Amato, or any of Belial’s acolytes?”

“I guess not after last night.”

Ash and Niel were alone on the ground floor of the house, while the others searched upstairs. So far, they had found nothing untoward, but the place was undoubtedly creepy. Old furniture was shrouded in covers, including the paintings that hung on the wall. The air in the house was thick with dust, cobwebs cluttered the corners of the rooms, and there was evidence that animals had been inside, and maybe a tramp or two. Although the gate at the top of the drive was closed tight, the woods would probably provide a way into the grounds. The scent of decay was strong, and when Ash pulled the covers from some paintings, they saw that mould had started to creep across the surfaces.

“Perhaps we’re assuming too much, and this was never a base of operations. It might have been an inheritance. Can you remember what Jackson said?” Ash asked.

“No, not really. All I heard was that there was a house we needed to check out.”

They progressed slowly through the ground floor, investigating each room carefully, occasionally hearing their brothers and Shadow shouting to each other. There were holes in the ceiling where the joists had rotted, and Ash hoped that no one would come crashing through. The kitchen was still very old-fashioned, and it seemed it hadn’t been updated since the early 1950s.

“Fancy cooking in here?” Ash asked Niel with a smile.

“Only if I wanted to poison everyone. It’s filthy. I like modern kitchens, not clunky old ranges.” He stood at the window and looked out on the dark forest, which seemed very close to the house at this end of the building. “Maybe Amato did inherit this house. He might have inherited his responsibilities to Belial, too. There’s nothing to suggest it’s not a family affair.”

“True. The Fallen always liked to keep their Houses tightly knit. Maybe the same applies to Belial’s human followers.”

“I think,” Niel said, pointing at the forest, “that something is in there. I think that’s the start of a path.”

“But you saw nothing from overhead.”

“No, but look how dense it is. It’s like Ravens’ Wood. We’re looking in the wrong place, I’m sure of it.”

They exited through the side door into the wreck of an old kitchen garden, and followed the faint remnants of a path to the wood. When they reached the trees, they could see a faint trail heading away from them, although the start of it was overgrown.

“Well?” Niel cocked an eyebrow at Ash. “Looks likely.”

“I agree, but let’s wait for the others. I’ll phone Gabe.”

In a few minutes’ time, the rest of the group joined them. “Nothing of interest on the upper levels,” Shadow declared, “but I like the look of that path! I’m going first.”

“Shadow!” Gabe started to complain.

She shushed him with a look. “I’m not susceptible to Nephilim traps, and the woods are my strength. Follow me, and keep quiet.”

Ash knew better than to argue, and before anyone could complain, he squeezed through the undergrowth that she so effortlessly skirted, and followed her down the path, single-file. It looked like an animal track, and perhaps animals had maintained it, of a sort, all these years. Tiny tracks branched off it, and the hoots of owls accompanied them as they walked.

Shadow, as she always did, virtually vanished in the deep shadows beneath the trees, treading silently but quickly, her bow ready should she need it. His brothers, for all their size, were almost as quiet behind him. She led them unerringly onwards, only pausing once when a similarly sized path crossed the track they were on. She searched the ground, scratching away the earth, and then turned to follow the new path. Ash had no idea what had made her change direction, but he followed her up the gently sloping ground.

Suddenly, she halted and pointed, her voice soft like the rub of leaves on the wind. “There. A building.”

Ash squinted. He prided himself on having great eyesight, but for a long moment saw nothing. Finally, he spotted a vine-covered column that looked just like a tree. “How the hell did you see that?”

“I am fey. I feel it as much as see it.”

His brothers crowded behind them, and she waited until they had seen the column, and then progressed ever slower. In a few moments, more columns became distinct from the trees, and it was evident that they created a temple. A circle of them, now covered in moss and ivy, rose majestically towards the canopy, but there was no roof. The temple was open to the sky, although thick and twisting tree branches grew over the whole place now. The central space was sunken into the ground, a few deep steps leading down to a circular area, almost like a mini amphitheatre. It was hard to see its depth as it was filled with fallen leaves, but in the centre was a huge, winged statue of an angel.

“Herne’s hairy bollocks,” Niel whispered. “A temple in the forest.”

“Ionic pillars,” Ash noted. “Greek, not Middle Eastern. It might mean nothing, of course. Temple designs in England often lean to classical antiquity.”

Shadow went to walk onto the upper step, when Gabe pulled her back. “Check the perimeter first.”

“It’s an old, abandoned temple, Gabe.”

“Just listen to me for once!”

They fanned out, exploring the edge of the temple, finding stone slabs beneath the leaves that created a path around the columns, but many were cracked and broken, roots pushing their way through. Saplings even rose up through the central space, throwing the statue into deep shadow.

“Happy?” Shadow asked them all. When no one objected, she said, “I’m going to investigate down there, make sure there are no traps etched in the centre.”

“Why is it abandoned?” Nahum asked, glancing around, hand clenched, like all of them, around the hilt of his sword.

Are sens