AS SOON AS HE LOCKED the outer door of L'oscar London, LaVey removed his mask and placed it inside the small suitcase he was carrying. Before reaching the Brazilian model's suite, he would pass several people, and he had no intention of attracting anyone's unnecessary attention. At that moment, he could easily be mistaken for one of the foreign executives staying at the hotel.
He checked the time: eleven twenty at night.
He had ten minutes to come face-to-face with Jessyca Volpi. He had studied the hotel's floor plan and knew the route by heart.
IT HAD BEEN TEN MINUTES since the priest had left the Royal Suite. The image of the kindhearted man from her childhood, his wrists slashed and confessing to her father's murder, had been a shock. Yet even that was less terrifying than the revelation that her father had sacrificed a child and sold his own daughter's soul.
— I hate you, you bastard! I hope you're rotting in hell!
Lying on the living room sofa, Jessyca felt terribly weak. Her hands and feet were trembling, her breathing had become labored, and the objects around her seemed to sway slowly. She strained her eyes, trying to force everything back into focus.
She checked her wristwatch. Her heart was racing. In three minutes, she would be in the hands of a complete stranger.
The collector... LaVey... she thought, trying to make him seem less unfamiliar.
What if Meggie is right? What if he just wants to have a little fun with me? What harm could there be in that?
She felt an icy breath against her neck and shivered. Sensing someone's presence behind her, she picked up the letter she had received from the woman in the black veil immediately after the kiss.
She glanced at her watch.
She still had one minute left to decide her fate.
BESIDES HIM, THERE WAS ANOTHER man in the corridor, standing guard outside a door.
The sacred alcove... LaVey deduced as he approached the security guard.
— Good evening, Bronny — he greeted him with a smile.
— Good evening, Drew — the Black Angel replied, checking the time.
— Is she ready?
— Just as the Master demanded.
— Perfect — the Englishman replied. — You've done an excellent job. You'll be very well rewarded for it soon.
— As soon as I've thrown everyone off the trail... — Bronny added.
— As soon as you plunge the sacred dagger into the heart — LaVey whispered, savoring every word of the sentence.
He took an envelope from the left pocket of his trousers and handed it to the security guard.
— An honor reserved for very few — the Black Angel remarked, slipping it into the right pocket of his black overcoat.
Then he knocked three times on the bedroom door.
LAVEY HAD BEEN GIVEN THE KEY to Jessyca's suite, but he chose not to use it. He waited for her to open the door and invite him inside. He needed her consent to begin the ritual. He had no intention of wasting it by forcing his way in.
— Who is it, Bronny? — she asked, holding the door slightly ajar.
— His name is Drew LaVey.
— I haven't made an appointment with anyone — the model retorted, pushing the door nearly shut.
The security guard looked at LaVey, waiting for him to take the initiative. The Englishman remained silent.
Less than three seconds later, the supermodel flung the door wide open, a mischievous smile on her face.
— You're much better-looking than I imagined — she said, looking him up and down.
— Are you going to let me in?
— That depends on what you want to do to me... — Jessyca replied, leaving her lips slightly parted.
— This man wouldn't let me hurt you, would he? — LaVey asked, glancing at Bronny with the faintest hint of a smile.
— Absolutely not — the security guard replied, giving him a knowing look.
— Then come in and show me what you can do — the Brazilian woman consented, stepping aside to let him pass.
She smiled at the Black Angel and closed the door immediately afterward.
— That outfit... You couldn't look more perfect — LaVey complimented her, placing his suitcase on an armchair in the anteroom.
— What have you got in there? — she asked.
— I'm a man of many fetishes — he replied, opening the bag and taking out a golden chalice and a bottle wrapped in black velvet.
— What's that?
— A woman like you deserves a golden chalice and the finest drink in the world — LaVey answered, a solemn expression on his face.
He broke the wax seal over the cork, opened the bottle, poured the liquid into the golden chalice, and held it out to Jessyca.
— A date-rape drug? — the Brazilian woman suggested, eyeing the blood-red liquid.
— I don't need anything like that to seduce someone.
— You want to seduce me?
— Who in this world wouldn't?
— Then let's skip all this and get to what really matters — Jessyca retorted, placing the chalice on a small round table.
— Don't be in such a hurry, my dear. I'm a romantic man, and I enjoy foreplay — LaVey explained, staring intently at her as he added silently:
Drink it already...
— If that's how you want it... — the supermodel agreed, swallowing the liquid in a single gulp.
— That tastes horrible! What the hell is this? — she complained, throwing the chalice onto the floor.
— The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, and adorned with gold, precious stones, and pearls. She held in her hand a golden cup filled with abominations and the impurities of her prostitution. On the woman's forehead was written a mysterious name: Babalon — LaVey recited, replacing the word Babylon from the original text. — ...The Great, the Mother of Prostitutes and of the Abominations of the Earth.
Jessyca recognized the passage. She stared at him in terror and said:
— Get out of here! Now!
— Is that any way to treat your guest? — LaVey made no attempt to conceal his sarcasm.
— I'm going to call... — Jessyca began, her legs trembling and her vision blurring.
— Who? Bronny? He's not here anymore.
With every word he spoke, the liquid's effects grew stronger.
— That priest who talks funny? I've never met anyone more pathetic — LaVey said, circling her like a predator stalking its prey.
— I...
— Your little American friend?
With every passing word, her world grew increasingly hazy.
— No, Jessyca. You're not going to call anyone. You want this just as much as I do.
— What have you... done to me? — she managed to ask before collapsing onto the floor, her breathing slow and labored.
Jessyca tried to move her legs, but her arms felt completely numb as well. She watched LaVey approach, a cruel smile spreading across his face.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down with one pillow beneath her head and another beneath her lower back.
What are you going to do to me? she tried to ask, but only muffled grunts escaped her lips.
LaVey was approaching with a dagger in his left hand.
THE BLACK ANGEL GLANCED AT HIS wristwatch.
Five minutes remained until midnight, and an uncontrollable tear rolled from his right eye. He quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.
Over the past few years, he had grown accustomed to Jessyca's company, and her smile, though often forced, had brightened his darkest days. Bronny had learned to love her. Yet from the moment he began protecting her, he had known he was preparing her for this very moment, and he eagerly anticipated his reward.
I wish I could have said goodbye... he thought as he walked away from the door. Perhaps we'll see each other again tonight...
He took the elevator down two floors.
Upon entering the thirty-four-square-meter suite, he took out the envelope LaVey had given him, sat at the small wooden desk, switched on the table lamp, and read the message.
— My certificate of insanity — he concluded, copying the text onto another sheet of paper.
As soon as he finished, he went into the bathroom, pulled a lighter from his pocket, and burned the original in the sink.
— My final wish... I think I deserve to relax in this bathtub.