He pulled the razor blade out of the drawer and made a mad dash to the mirror in the bathroom.
"I see you! I know you are there!" he yelled. At first, it was only his ragged, burly reflection staring back at him. But then, just as he knew it would, the image shifted and swirled and a black mist floated in the glass like goo in a hot lava lamp, taking the form of the demon.
It was the black-winged one, this time. The one Barron loathed and feared the most.
Black wings spread far and wide, with a span so great the mirror could not withhold its entirety. Long, black hair spilled around the demon's shoulders and blue-black obsidian eyes stared back at him from the mirror.
"Get out. Get out! I will not allow you to control me anymore!"
"We are linked by blood, Barron. The same blood that once made you so strong. You cannot resist me. You must do as I command you."
"Send through me the copper angel. He is kinder than you, by far! I am weak in my old age. You are wasting me away. Have mercy on me!"
"Your daughter is in danger. And only I have the power to protect her. There is something you must do for me." The black angel twitched his wings. Dark shadows curled around his arms like mist-bodied snakes.
"You leave my daughter alone! You have done enough damage to her through out the years. Through me, you have ruined her. Ruined her!"
"Only you, will I continue to harm. To the very end, I will harm you. There will be no granting of mercy. Now be silent! And obey."
Barron could not help but go silent. And he could not help but to obey. Later, though. He would certainly obey later. For now, he had to get him out.
He would cut him out. Bleed him out. One of these times it was going to work, and Barron hoped and prayed that this would be that time.
As the black angel whispered his commands into Barron's mind, Barron slashed the razor blade across his face and opened up a deep, thin gash in his cheek. With another lash of the blade, Barron opened up another long, thin line across his face.
"Get out!" he yelled at the demon, but he was alone now, with his own reflection in the mirror. Barron cut himself again and again and again. Over and over, Barron opened up his flesh, until the image in the mirror became something unrecognizable, until blood rained from his face.
Barron fell to the bathroom floor. But he did not, could not, escape the demons.
He had to obey. And dying would not be obedient. At least, not tonight it wouldn't be.
As Barron slipped into the deep, dark void that had become so very familiar to him, he saw his daughter's face --his beautiful Moonshine, with angel-kissed hair turned white like the heavens, eyes bold and strong and divine-- and a trace of a smile touched his lips.
He knew he could not die. He could not leave his daughter to be the last of the Lanchester bloodline, the last of the portals through which the Sons of Lucifer roam.
But, as the black abyss drank Barron in, he understood that he was not the keeper of his fate, for Bane was. Barron would live only as Bane permitted him to. And Barron would die only when Bane wanted him to die.
****
Chapter Twenty-One
Luna