The Mephisto Club

“I wish it was a delusion. I wish I could shrug it off the way you do. But you haven’t seen and heard the things I have, what Gottfried and others have. Mephisto is fighting for its life. After four centuries, we’re the last ones.” He paused. “And I’m the last of Isabella’s line.”

“The last demon hunter,” she said.

“I haven’t made an inch of headway with you, have I?”

“Here’s what I don’t understand. It’s not that hard to kill someone. If you’re the target, why don’t they just eliminate you? You’re not in hiding. All it takes is a gunshot through your window, a bomb in your car. Why play stupid games with seashells? What’s the point of warning you that you’re in their sights?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can see that it’s not logical.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you still think these murders revolve around Mephisto.”

He gave a sigh. “I won’t even try to convince you. I just want you to consider the possibility that what I’ve told you is true.”

“That there’s a worldwide brotherhood of Nephilim? That the Mephisto Foundation, and no one else, is even aware of this vast conspiracy?”

“Our voice is starting to be heard.”

“What are you going to do to protect yourselves? Load silver bullets in your gun?”

“I’m going to find Lily Saul.”

She frowned at him. “The daughter?”

“Don’t you find it strange that no one knows where she is? That no one can locate her?” He looked at Maura. “Lily knows something.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because she doesn’t want to be found.”

“I think I should go inside with you,” he said, “just to be sure everything’s all right.”

They were parked outside her house, and through the living room curtains Maura could see lights shining, the lamps turned on by her automatic timer. Before she’d left yesterday, she had scrubbed off the markings on her door. Staring through the gloom, she wondered if there were new ones scrawled there that she couldn’t see, new threats concealed in the shadows.

“I think I’d feel better if you came in with me, too,” she admitted.

He reached into his glove compartment for a flashlight, and they both stepped out of the car. Neither of them spoke; they were focused instead on their surroundings: the dark street, the distant hiss of traffic. Sansone paused there on the sidewalk, as though trying to catch the scent of something he could not yet see. They climbed to the porch, and he turned on the flashlight to examine her door.

It was clean.

Inside her house, the phone was ringing. Daniel? She unlocked the front door and stepped inside. It took her only seconds to punch her code on the keypad and disarm the security system, but by the time she reached the telephone, it had fallen silent. Pressing the call history button, she recognized his cell phone number on caller ID, and she itched to pick up the receiver and call him back. But Sansone was now standing right beside her in the living room.

“Does everything seem all right to you?”

She gave a tight nod. “Everything’s fine.”

“Why don’t you have a look around first before I leave?”

“Of course,” she said, and headed up the hallway. As he followed her, she could feel his gaze on her back. Did he see it in her face? Did he recognize the look of a lovesick woman? She went from room to room, checking windows, rattling doors. Everything was secure. As a simple matter of hospitality, she should have offered him a cup of coffee and invited him to stay for a few minutes, after he’d been kind enough to drive her home. But she was not in a hospitable mood.

To her relief, he didn’t linger, but turned to leave. “I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he said.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You need to be careful, Maura. We all do.”

But I’m not one of you, she thought. I never wanted to be.

The doorbell rang. They looked at each other.

He said, quietly, “Why don’t you see who it is?”

She took a breath and stepped into the foyer. She took one glance through the window and immediately opened the door. Even the blast of cold air could not drive the flush of heat from her cheeks as Daniel stepped inside, his arms already reaching for her. Then he saw the other man in the hallway, and he froze in place.

Sansone smoothly stepped into the silence. “You must be Father Brophy,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Anthony Sansone. I saw you at Dr. O’Donnell’s house the other night, when you came to pick up Maura.”

Daniel nodded. “I’ve heard about you.”

The two men shook hands, a stiff and wary greeting. Then Sansone had the good sense to make a quick exit. “Arm your security system,” he reminded Maura.

“I will.”

Before he stepped out the front door, he shot one last speculative look at Brophy. Sansone was neither blind nor stupid; he could probably guess what this priest was doing in her house. “Good night,” he said, and walked out.

She locked the door. “I missed you,” she said, and stepped into Daniel’s arms.

“It felt like such a long day,” he murmured.

“All I could think of was coming home. Being with you.”

“That’s all I could think of, too. I’m sorry to just show up and take you by surprise. But I had to stop by.”

“It’s the kind of surprise I like.”

“I thought you’d be home much earlier.”

“We stopped on the road, for dinner.”

“It worried me, you know. That you were driving home with him.”

“You had absolutely nothing to worry about.” She stepped back, smiling. “Let me take your coat.”

But he made no move to remove it. “What have you learned about him, since you’ve spent the whole day together?”

“I think he’s just an eccentric man with a lot of money. And a very strange hobby.”

“Seeking all things satanic? That goes a little beyond what I think of as strange.”

“The truly strange part is that he’s managed to gather a circle of friends who all believe the same thing.”

“Doesn’t it worry you? That he’s so completely focused on the dark side? That he’s actually searching for the Devil? You know the saying. ‘When you look long into the abyss…’”

“‘The abyss also looks into you.’ Yes, I know the quote.”

“It’s worth remembering, Maura. How easily darkness can draw us in.”

She laughed. “This sounds like something from one of your Sunday sermons.”

“I’m serious. You don’t know enough about this man.”

I know he worries you. I know he’s making you jealous.

She touched his face. “Let’s stop talking about him. He doesn’t matter. Come on, let me take your coat.”

He made no move to unbutton it. Only then did she understand.

“You’re not staying tonight,” she said.

He sighed. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“I told you, I was worried. I wanted to make sure he got you home safely.”

“You can’t stay, even for a few hours?”

“I wish I could. But at the last minute, they asked me to attend a conference in Providence. I have to drive