Lily Bruce strolled into the room. Sophie carefully avoided looking into her eyes and Max kept his back to her, using his silver salver to take tentative glimpses. Lily Bruce was still in human form, but menace flowed from her with every beat of her blackened heart; Max could tell her humanity was ebbing out of her – for good.

  “So you’re the annoying little British man who has been delaying my plans and killing off my minions,” she said in a casual voice. “And this demon tramp is helping you? Curious. How much gold did you have to offer it to get it to help you? Not that I care, because I’m going to kill you. More than that: I will utterly eradicate every atom of your being and swallow your soul completely. I can feel it when my minions expire, you know. I’ve known from the beginning what you were up to – and every step you’ve taken to try and stop me. How pathetic.”

  Max was surprised. Lily Bruce was wrong: she didn’t know that the PTBs had persuaded – ordered – Sophie to help him. It gave him the faintest flicker of hope – because it meant that Lily Bruce didn’t know everything. And she didn’t know what he was going to do next.

  “And you,” she said, turning the beam of her malignant eyes upon Sophie, “I shall enjoy liquefying your entrails before organising – and enjoying – your permanent termination.”

  “You don’t know what you’re doing!” said Max desperately. “If you summon the Mother, it’ll mean the end of the world. Your power will be meaningless then. Why bother? In a couple of months you’ll be the President of the United States and the most powerful woman on earth!”

  “I can see you’re young,” she said, amused, “But are you really that naive? Do you really think the President has any real power? I’d have to please the moronic voting public for a start. How humiliating. No, real power is ancient power. I’ve spent my entire life – several lifetimes in fact – to reach this point. Well, no point in talking any longer – hand over my amulet and I might make it a slightly quicker end for you, not lingering and tormented like your American colleague.”

  She saw the shocked expression on Max’s face.

  “Oh, I didn’t kill our CIA friend, Mr Caspar. I let my Mamlaka demons have him instead. They really enjoyed everything he had to tell them – they said it was quite a treat.”

  The speed with which she moved was shocking: it was as if she flew across the room – straight at Sophie. The Oyebs followed her lead, completely ignoring Max.

  So that was it – they were going to pick them off one at a time – and they were fast, too fast.

  Max tried to keep himself calm as, from the corner of his eye, he watched Sophie fighting off the three Oyebs and Lily Bruce who now had superhuman strength.

  “Leave her alone!” yelled Max. “This is what you want!”

  He dangled the amulet from one hand, edging towards the window overlooking the Thames.

  “If you don’t leave her alone right now, I’ll drop this into the Thames and then see which of your minions is prepared to dive into running water to get it.”

  “Oh, please!” said Lily Bruce. “Do you really think that would delay me by more than a few minutes? Do you really think my minions wouldn’t obey my every word? I’m about to give them everything they ever wanted – I’m going to put Hell on Earth!”

  “What is it with you demons and apocalypses?” he shouted for the second time in 24 hours.

  But Lily Bruce merely smiled coldly.

  Max handed over the amulet and a terrified Sophie dropped to the floor, one arm hanging at a very unnatural angle.

  Lily Bruce took the amulet from Max. Then from her pocket she drew out a small, blue gemstone and placed it in the amulet’s empty centre.

  Max recognised the stone as azurite; now he was really worried. His research for Walter J. told him that azurite amplified mystical powers – although he hardly thought that the woman who was about to end the world needed any more help. He could feel the demonic power gushing from the amulet reunited with its power source.

  Lily Bruce put the amulet around her neck and gasped with pleasure.

  “Oh! It’s better than I could ever have imagined! The power! The power! I will sit at the right hand of the Mother! I will bathe in darkness! Come to me! Come to me! I summon you! I demand your presence!”

  The walls of the ancient tower began to tremble as if Hell itself was spewing out the Mother – the most ancient evil the world had ever known.

  Flames leapt from the stone floor as a chasm opened at their feet. A huge, formless entity began to rise up, cloaked in stinking smoke. The Mother was awake.

  Lily Bruce screamed like a woman possessed. Her hands clawed at her throat, trying to rip the amulet from her neck.

  Her minions were staring at the Mother as she began to take form.

  Pungent, purple flames whirled through the air like locusts. They drew together becoming denser and denser, and a face appeared at the centre of the flames – it was the Mother.

  “Ah my children!” she sang, her hair flaming around her. “I am coming.”

  Then she turned her blazing eyes on Lily Bruce.

  “And you! Human! You dared to call me?! You dared to summon me? You thought to make demands of me? I am beyond your wildest dreams! And I do not need you sitting at my right hand. I do not need you at all!”

  The demon minions looked pleased. Being ordered around by a human had clearly been a humiliating experience that they hadn’t enjoyed.

  Max realised that the amulet had tricked Lily Bruce; it had pretended to offer her power but really she was being consumed by it.

  Max knew he had one, slim chance – and he took it.

  He swung the golden censer in front of him, sending demons flying in all directions, then flung himself sideways and snatched the amulet from around Lily Bruce’s neck. Her body was encased in flames as if she were burning up from the inside. Max felt the heat sear his hand but he tugged hard. It was too much for Lily Bruce: the amulet’s chain severed her head from her body. Her dismayed eyeballs rolled into the chasm and were swallowed up by the flames.

  The Mother howled in fury. She still wasn’t fully formed.

  Max had one last card to play – then the game was over.

  He stood upright, eyes closed, muttering the incantation that would warp the time frame of his enemies.

  “God! I hope I said that right!”

  He opened his eyes and saw the three Oyebs looking as if they were wading in treacle. Sophie was definitely the worse for wear; her hair was dishevelled and one arm had been pulled out of its socket. She shrugged her shoulder and Max heard a ‘pop’ as the arm clunked back into place.

  Max tossed the silver letter opener to Sophie. The time frame magicks held the Oyebs in its weird web, and Max watched with satisfaction as she finished them off one by one.

  But then the Mother broke free of Max’s spell and rose like a tsunami of evil, her hands, torso and head now fully formed. She pinned Sophie to the wall by her throat and began to squeeze. Sophie was helpless against the strength of the Mother’s evil.

  “Give me my amulet!” shrieked the Mother, her voice wailing like a siren.

  Max was afraid his eardrums would split.

  “The amulet! Give it to me or I finish her now!”

  “Max!” gasped Sophie. “Give her the amulet! Please! We can’t beat her like this. Everything is different.”

  “Sophie, no!” yelled Max.

  “Please! Trust me! It’s our only chance!”

  Max knew with certainty that he was going to die. He couldn’t bear the look of naked terror on Sophie’s face, but more than anything, she had implored him to trust her. It was the only thing he had left to give her – his trust and the amulet.

  He almost missed the tiny wink she gave him. He suddenly understood what she meant. It was their last chance – then they were out of options.

  He tossed the amulet to the Mother’s free hand and she cackled with delight.

  Sophie took her chance.

  “Tak
e that, you old hag!”

  She smashed the Mother in the face with what looked like a small brick.

  For a moment the Mother looked merely surprised, then fear blossomed on her face.

  The brick was not a brick, but a small Latvian rock monster. It fastened itself over the Mother’s face, draining demonic energy from the Mother – and from the doppelganger amulet. Instead of increasing her power and allowing her to take form, the demonic energy was being drained from her and into the primitive, ancient stone. The Mother fell to the ground, the rock monster still attached to her face.

  The rock monster swelled furiously to the size of a massive boulder. It grew larger and larger as it absorbed her power; the Mother screamed and thrashed her arms and legs, trying to force the boulder monster from her.

  But she was no match for the power that she herself had unleashed. Every drop of demonic life was squashed from the Mother: the evil flooded out of her in a gush of black and back into the chasm that had spawned her.

  Max and Sophie leaped onto a table to avoid being engulfed by the evil that swirled around their feet.

  A hissing, boiling sound rose from the ground, and all the evil was sucked down, down, down, back into Hell.

  All that was left was a boulder, a broken amulet and the headless carcass that had been Lily Temple Bruce.

  “How did you know that was going to work?” said Max.

  “I didn’t – I guessed,” said Sophie, smiling crookedly. “Latvian rock monsters are primitive, unthinking demons. I thought the amulet wouldn’t be able to overwhelm it, and if I could combine that primitive power with the power of the doppelganger amulet, it would be enough to take her down – and I was right.”

  Carefully, Max picked up the two tarnished amulets and gently removed the azurite from the doppelganger. He’d have to think of a way of keeping these from anyone who might seek to use them for evil purposes in the future. He had no idea how he was going to do that. Max had to admit his brain was currently a thought-free environment.

  “Has the Mother been permanently terminated?” he said, staring at the silent rock monster.

  “I doubt it,” said Sophie, “but without her amulet, she won’t be able to cause trouble for quite a while.”

  He turned his tired eyes to hers.

  “You are amazing!” he said.

  “Oh, Max, darling! For shame! Have you only just noticed?”

  Endings

  The newspapers would report it as a heart attack, the authorities thinking it best not to mention that Lily Bruce’s head was, at this point in time, still missing. Her death would be seen as a great loss to America in particular, and the Western World in general. It would be quite a while before the Americans trusted the British with another of their Presidents.

  Max didn’t care. He just wanted to go home and sleep for a week.

  But first he had a promise to keep. Sophie had earned the right to be released from her Blood Oath.

  They stood, side by side, in the small summerhouse that was Temple Lodge in Kensington Gardens. Max was dirty and dishevelled, and even Sophie was less than her usually perfectly-dressed self.

  “So this is it,” said Max.

  “I suppose it is, Max, darling,” said Sophie. “I have to say, it really has been the most fun working with you. I’ve killed so many things, battled the Mother of All Evil, and it’s still only Thursday – it’s been marvellous!”

  Max raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad the work agreed with you. Well, you kept your promise and you saved the world. Now I’ll keep my promise and release you from your Blood Oath.”

  Suddenly a light of blinding brightness lit the room. The scent of Spring flowers was overpowering. Max blinked furiously, a hand raised to protect his watering eyes from the power of the sun that seemed to have blossomed in the small temple. Before him the most beautiful, unearthly creature that Max had ever seen floated gently to earth.

  “Sophie Dinah Judas,” said the creature, with a voice that spoke of mountain springs and endless joy. “You have truly saved the world. For this you are offered a reward.”

  The creature’s golden halo was as bright as liquid sunshine. Max’s eyes were watering like a hose with the effort of trying to peer through his fingers at the golden rays.

  The glorious creature held out a tiny ball of light that pulsed with an iridescent pink and purple glow.

  “Is that what I think it is?” whispered Sophie.

  “Yes,” said the magnificent creature. “It is your soul. If you wish it, it will be returned to you.”

  Sophie’s hand hovered over the pulsing ball of light.

  “If I take it back,” she said. “I’ll be dead and I’ll go and live with you, won’t I?”

  “Yes,” said the creature.

  Sophie hesitated, and Max saw her hand tremble.

  “Sophie! For God’s sake take it!” urged Max.

  She turned her luminous eyes on him and shook her head slightly.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said to the creature, “I’d rather go on being a good, bad demon. It’s been such fun.”

  “Your choice has been made,” said the creature.

  Slowly it rose through the air and faded from view.

  “No, wait!” yelled Max. “She’s made a mistake!”

  “Max, darling! I didn’t know you cared,” laughed Sophie gently.

  “But, but that was an angel,” said Max. “An angel – and it offered you your soul.

  “Actually,” said Sophie, with a half smile, “that wasn’t any old angel: that was my dear friend Gabriel. You know, the Angel Gabriel. We know each other from way back. And I think I now know why he chose me to help you – don’t ask, it’s a long story. But I know I’ve made the right choice.”

  “How could you turn down the chance to get your soul back?” said Max, appalled and distressed.

  “And if I did – who would look after you?” she said, her voice husky with emotion.

  Then she smiled mischievously.

  “Besides, it’s far more fun being bad on Earth, than good in Heaven.”

  “Do you know what chance you’re missing?” whispered Max.

  “Actually,” said Sophie. “I do.”

  They stood in silence. Then Sophie took a step towards Max and held out her hand, her nail polish still a violent red, if somewhat chipped.

  They shook hands, and Max shuddered slightly at her unnaturally cold touch.

  “Goodbye, Max,” she whispered. “Give me a call when you want to go and kill something. Ciao!”

  “Bye, Sophie. Take care of yourself. Don’t go eating any humans.”

  “Oh, Max, darling, you’re such a joker!”

  He watched her walk across the park, still turning heads, despite her filthy and torn clothes.

  Instead of heading for home, Max went back to his office. He had a report to write.

  He sat at his desk, head in hands, feeling the tiredness wash over him in waves. A sharp knock at the door roused him rudely from his reverie.

  Superintendent Thatcher was standing at the door.

  “May I come in, Detective?”

  “Uh, yes, of course,” said Max, standing to attention. “Please, ma’am, have a seat.”

  She sat stiffly and leaned back in the chair. Max had no idea what she was going to say. Well, he had an idea he was about to be chewed out for not reporting his findings from Buckingham Palace.

  “I understand, Detective, that we all have a lot to thank you for.”

  Max wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

  “Ma’am?”

  “If I am reliably informed, and I believe that I am, you and your charming colleague, Miss Judas, have saved the world from a terrible fate today.”

  Max gaped. In his two years working for the Demon Division, no other officer had ever indicated that they understood the job he did. And then he realised that the Superintendent had used Sophie’s real name.

  The officer smiled slightly.

&
nbsp; “Yes, I’m sure this surprises you, Detective, but there are one or two senior officers here who are aware of the vital role you play in law enforcement. I am just grateful, after watching your progress for many months, to have the opportunity to thank you for your efforts. I am fully aware just how demanding – and dangerous – your job has been. I shall make it my business to ensure that you are fully supported in your role. And rewarded, too: a timely promotion, I think, is due. From now on, you are Detective Sergeant Darke. Congratulations, Sergeant.”

  She stood and held out her hand. Max shook it automatically, too stunned to do more than stutter a faint, “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She smiled briefly and marched from the room.

  Max stared at his half-written report, then shut down his computer. A Sergeant, he decided, could choose when to complete reports and when to give himself the afternoon off.

  * * * *

  Max saw the usual flicker of net curtain as his grandmother checked out who was knocking at her door. Better safe than sorry.

  “Max, dear! You look exhausted. Bad day at the office?”

  “You could say that, but it’s over now.”

  She fussed and tutted over his ravaged, filthy clothes and whipped up a lamb stew, followed by cherry cake and a large mug of tea.

  It felt good to just relax and let the strain of the past 72 hours drain away.

  He was almost asleep in her armchair when a thought jerked him awake.

  “By the way, Gran. I forgot to tell you – I’ve been promoted: now I’m a Detective Sergeant.” And one of the youngest in the Met.

  “Yes, I know already, dear,” said his gran. “I’m so very proud of you.”

  Max stared. How on earth could she have known – he’d only just found out himself!

  “Gran – I’ve been meaning to ask you. Er... is there any witch blood in our family?”

  She turned and looked at him in surprise.

  “Max, dear! Are you asking me if I’m a witch?!”

  “Er, yes, I suppose I am,” said Max, with an embarrassed smile. “Better safe than sorry.”

  His grandmother’s tinkling laugh burst out and seemed unstoppable. Max’s smile broadened. He had to wait a long time for her reply.