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 Why did you summon us here? Abigor whispered.  We ve stayed hidden all these years. If
Mephistopheles should find us & 
 Mephistopheles is dead, Blackheart declared, cutting him off. The demons stared at him in
disbelief.  He just doesn t know it yet.
 What do you want from us? Gressil asked suspiciously. His raspy voice sounded like he was
gargling with rocks.
 I ve come to start a New Hell on Earth, Blackheart informed them.  You can either join me & 
He gestured toward the abundant corpses.  Or you can join them.
Understanding dawned in the demons eyes. Wallow stepped forward from his window sill.  You ve
come to start the War.
 But you have no soldiers, Abigor protested.  No army.
 I ll be my own army, Blackheart said,  once I have the Contract of San Venganza.
The demons eyes widened in surprise, as word of the legend met their ears.  The Contract of a
Thousand Souls, Wallow gurgled in awe.
Blackheart nodded.  The souls have grown more powerful with time. In Hell, they d tip the balance
in Mephistopheles s favor. But here on Earth, in my hands, they ll become more powerful than even he
could ever imagine.
 But the Contract was lost, Gressil recalled.
Blackheart shook his head.  Not lost. Stolen. Legend says it was hidden in a graveyard not far from
here. You re going to help me find it. He beamed in anticipation.  And then we ll take this world&
one city at a time.
The elementals grinned back at him, the notion obviously appealing to them. But before they could
reply, a booming voice called angrily from outside the saloon:
 BLACKHEART!
Naturally, Blackheart thought, undisturbed by the interruption. He had been expecting this.
Heeding the call, Blackheart burst through the tavern s swinging doors and strode confidently onto
the porch outside. A wicked smile crept across his face as he spotted a familiar figure waiting for him
beyond the parked motorcycles.
The golden-haired old man leaned upon his distinctive silver cane, with a crystal skull grinning atop
it. The man s long black coat stretched from his neck down to his ankles. Black eyes fixed on the
younger man, who appeared to be alone upon the porch. So far, the Hidden were living up to their name.
 Hello, Father, Blackheart said coldly.
Mephistopheles was in no mood for pleasantries.  How dare you defy me?
 It s my time now, old man. In truth, Blackheart had been looking forward to this inevitable
encounter. He beckoned silently to his allies, who remained concealed from view.
 I decide your time! the Devil roared furiously. His anger momentarily shredded his mortal facade,
revealing his true features. Demonic black eyes and shriveled blue skin were briefly exposed.
 Not anymore, Blackheart declared. At his command, the Hidden materialized around his father.
They gnashed their fangs as they circled Mephistopheles like a pack of hungry jackals.  Did you really
think I was going to wait around for your permission?
The Devil ignored the fallen angels surrounding him. That he was outnumbered four to one did not
seem to trouble him.  You violate the Order by coming here.
 What  Order ? Blackheart asked incredulously.  Take a look around. You re playing by the rules
of a forgotten game. Nobody cares what you do. Even God s lost interest.
Mephistopheles limped toward his son. The neon lights of the bar dimmed at his approach.  I ve
worked too long and too hard. Your time will come, he promised.  But not now.
 You think I want to rule your obsolete Hell. Please. He sighed theatrically.  I was meant for better
things than that.
The Devil s expression darkened.  You will suffer for this& .
 The only thing I m suffering from is you. Blackheart couldn t resist the temptation to bait the old
man. Emboldened by their leader s show of defiance, the Hidden cackled like hyenas.  We both know
you can t harm me here. I m not like you. I ve never Fallen. He sneered at his father s skull-capped
walking stick.  And I never will.
Mephistopheles glared at the youth.  I may not have power over you in this world, he warned
ominously.  But my Ghost Rider does.
The Hidden cringed at the old man s words. Their mocking laughter was cut short. Blackheart was
faintly disappointed by his minions weak nerves, but no matter. He did not fear so feeble a threat.
 Of course. The Ghost Rider. Your favorite creation. Blackheart s eyes glowed crimson as a new
flavor of resentment entered his voice.  The power of Hellfire wasted on one pathetic human after
another! If you had trusted in me, if you had given me what was rightfully mine & 
 It s too late for that now, the Devil interrupted him. He dismissed Blackheart s jealousy with a
wave of his hand.  Run along home now, son.
His father s arrogance infuriated Blackheart. Mephistopheles s best days were behind him. Why
couldn t he see that? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]