gns.thegraveyardvultures-第28章
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nication with each other。
She was convinced that she had died a couple of minutes before the end actually came； before the spouting blood slowed to a thick trickle and she sagged down on to the dripping skeleton。 Her astral body was a yard or so above her corpse； seeing Royston jerk her head back； ignoring her as he stared into the blood…filled eye sockets of William Gardiner； seeking a movement； a sign of some sort； willing life where there was only death。
'Does he live？' Quavering voices； trembling whispers from beyond the circle of light cast by the remaining candle。 Most of the coven secretly hoped that he did not。
Royston sucked in his breath； Miranda saw that his features had changed yet again； sunken and wasted； reminiscent in structure of that awful skull； the same narrow mouth into which she had been forced to thrust her tongue in a stinking french kiss。
'Life is there。' Royston lifted one of the fleshless hands as though testing its pulse。 'But our sacred benefactor is not to be reincarnated so easily。 He has accepted our sacrifice but craves another！'
Gasps of awe； sheer selfish terror in each of the listeners came like a shrieking gale to flicker the single candle flame。 Some of those present remembered how Sheila Dowson had been taken in the blackness of Satan's mass。 Now it could be any one of them； summoned by this terrible high priest of darkness； a call which none could ignore。 A life for a life。
'More blood。' Royston dipped his fingers in a thick warm pool beneath the bones； a flick of his wrist spraying those who cowered in terror； bringing stifled cries from their dry lips as they felt it splattering on their bowed heads。 'And I；' his voice rose to a pitch； 'have manded that victim to e here to me； as surely he will before long； one whose blood is as evil as our revered one and with it William Gardiner will arise and lead us in whatever form he chooses to take！'
Mature men and women whimpered their fear for they knew enough of the one who addressed them to accept the truth of his words。 They were as terrified of him as they were of the skeleton which had been exhumed from St Adrian's churchyard。 There was no escape； nowhere to hide； for this priest of Satan would seek them out and exact a terrible revenge。 Had he not punished Miranda in full for her infidelity？
'He will e；' Royston's tone was as vibrant as an electric current； reducing their naked bodies to trembling flesh。 'And that will be the ultimate sacrifice； one which even our great Master will not refuse。 He will grant our request and bring back the one who has been lost to us for so long。 And brethren； when that moment arrives； we shall all drink the blood of he who is our enemy and calls himself Sabat。
The remaining black candle flickered and finally extinguished itself； plunging the crypt into total darkness。
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS full daylight when Sabat awoke； stirred slowly and stretched his cramped limbs。 In spite of his disfort he felt refreshed； sitting up with a start； groaning as the memory of those nocturnal hours came back to him in full； the full horror of all that had happened。
He had fought off the psychic attack； a conjuror playing a final trick when all that had gone before had been a flop； deceived Quentin in a manner in which his brother's soul would not be fooled again。 But in the end the dark powers had won because exhaustion had claimed Sabat； thwarted his search for Miranda。 He knew that without a doubt the prostitute would be dead by now。
One moment when his eyes misted over and then he had cast off the feeling of grief。 The thought of vengeance replaced it； hardening his features； pumping a grim determination into the lithe body which gunned the engine of the Daimler and had the speedometer needle flickering on 70 mph within the first hundred yards。
There was no immediate hurry now； yet Sabat drove like one possessed （as he surely was）； cornering with screeching tyres on the winding road； promising himself that this man called Royston would pay not only with his life but with his soul。 And Sabat would not make the same mistake which he had made when he had confronted Quentin in that remote forest clearing。 God or Satan； he would use either to exact the terrible revenge he sought； Suddenly he saw the motor…cyclist； a hurtling denim…clad rider ing towards him； taking the left hand bend too wide and too fast； unhelmeted so that an expression of terror was visible even in that fraction of a second。 Sabat's reactions were as sharp as ever； pulling the wheel over； mounting the grass verge； miraculously avoiding a head…on collision。
Now everything was slow motion； every detail hideously accentuated as though deliberately to torture the two men。 The biker was alongside the Daimler； a stunt rider doing crazy aerobatics as his machine reared like a plunging rodeo mount。 Sabat had two fields of vision； in his wing mirror he watched the riderless motorbike hit the ground and career on a diagonal course for the opposite ditch； while through the windscreen he saw the thrown rider reach his apex； arms and legs kicking like a sky…diver。 ing down。 So slowly； head first； long blonde hair flowing； mouth wide to emit a terrible scream。 For one awful split second the two men exchanged glances； the clear blue eyes of the doomed youth blazing terror and hate。 'You killed me； you bastard。 Murderer '
Sabat seemed to feel the impact of bone smashing on tarmac； a stomach…churning thud that vibrated through the car。 Still it was slow motion； an action replay of a gymnast's head stand 。 。 。 except that the performer now had no head！ Smashed bone and pulped flesh； a morass that was scarlet with stringy grey frogspawn； still tottering in a vertical position。 Then slowly collapsing
It had seemed an eternity yet could have lasted no more than a few seconds。 Sabat's pulses had started to race but he checked them； psychologically steadying every nerve as he had been trained to do during his SAS service。 He opened the door； eased himself out； stood looking down on the bloody remains of what had once been a human being。 Shredded clothing； a gash that opened up the stomach so that the entrails spilled out； yards of coiled human piping。
Sabat glanced up and down the road。 There was nobody in sight。 Probably this unfortunate victim of their brief encounter was a farm labourer speeding on his way to keep an appointment with a herd of cows whose udders were full to bursting。 No sadness； no revulsion； seeing things as they were； as fate had ordained。 Alive one second； dead the next； a gamble millions of people won or loct with every passing day。
Sabat turned away； got back into his car。 There was nothing he could have done anyway。 Had the other still been alive he would have put him out of his misery with the same impartiality with which a vet dispatches a suffering animal。 He'd done it once before； a swift blow with a starting handle to the head of a young girl mutilated beyond recognition in the wreckage of a Mini。 Instant death was preferable to prolonged suffering。 God gave life and God took it away； and as Man was a part of God； Sabat had felt justified in his decision。
He drove away； the Daimler picking up speed。 To have wasted time reporting the accident would have caused delays which Sabat could not afford。 Lengthy statements would have taken hours； the next motorist to pass along this road could shoulder that responsibility。 And with a long expel…lation of breath； Sabat pushed the matter from his mind； cast it into the oblivion of human forget fulness。
It was 8。00am when he spied his destination below him； a tiny village dominated by a church spire protruding above a line of tall poplars set in a small river valley。 The incline was steep and winding； giving him a panoramic view of the countryside； sheep and cattle grazing the meadowland。 Perfect peace； so far removed from Royston and his vile followers。
Sabat should have been able to relax but for some reason he could not。 Every nerve in his body was tense； a tautness that g
