Demon mentor. Crypt of the Seven Angels. Natalie Yacobson

to her. No one else would dare to claim it. A curse is a curse. But it did not touch her. How did it happen?

      Blaise was tormented by reflections. Damian still leaned towards her, as if this closeness helped him read her mind. And his expression turned grim.

      Blaise tried to pull away.

      «Is there a clock in this house?» She asked casually.

      «Why do we need them?» He also moved slightly away.

      Blaise looked down at her feet. The round floor, lined with lines and symbols, somehow reminded her of a dial. You need to count the columns, probably twelve. Before the fight. They moved in a circle like the hands of a clock, and there was something inexorable about it. Like time. Like fate.

      «I want to know how much time is left before revenge.» In fact, she wanted to count how long the angels would be silent and sum up the crushing results.

      «Then leave serifs in your mind,» he threw down the stick and wanted to go, but, having reached the columns at the exit, for some reason turned around.

      «Do you know how many there are?»

      Blaise shook her head.

      «Thirteen.»

      «In honor of the devil’s number?»

      «No, in honor of twelve o’clock in the afternoon,» said Damian.

      «Then why thirteen?» Her voice sounded in the empty dark space, like a faint golden echo.

      «One of them symbolizes something that doesn’t seem to exist. The thirteenth hour, which is not taken into account by people, but which is in order to admit into this world those who are called from the other side by your desire to get to know them. Creatures like me. Pure thirteen is just right for us. The thirteenth hour, which is not there, but it is there for us to come. The thirteenth year in the calendar of signs would be the year of the demon or angel you call… that’s up to you. Which wings are better: light or black. Thirteenth day…»

      He stood far away, but she felt the touch of his hand on her cheek, as if he were near. A teasing touch.

      «This circle is for me…»

      Damian laughed devilishly.

      «Are you kidding? Or do you want to intimidate me?»

      «What do you think yourself? He suddenly became serious.»

      Blaise looked around. It no longer seemed to her that marble angels were hiding behind the columns. Such a feeling could only be an illusion.

      «It’s too early to think,» she said suddenly and firmly. «I will think about it when you teach me everything you promised. Then the time will come to evaluate you.»

      He nodded, acknowledging her conclusion. And he didn’t even repeat:

      «Remember the contract.»

      Revenge plans

      Blaise stuck the knife into the map spread out on the table. She drew this map herself on paper from a torn package, which she found in the house. In its center, of course, the crypt was marked. The place from which the whole history of her family began. Although purely symbolic, this place always had to remain in the middle. Because the crypt is at the head of everything.

      All paths lead to it. At least that’s what her family taught her. The family chronicles said so. Such a lesson was taught by heavenly or hellish forces to all generations of her family. And from the fact that in her own history there was a failure with this, nothing has changed yet.

      Perhaps the time has simply not yet come. Maybe on her next birthday a miracle will finally happen. To do this, she needed a watch. To measure every minute. She never found the watch, as if there had never been one in this house. But she began to draw a map.

      Starting at the crypt, she moved on to the rest of the city. The shooters retreated from the center along the narrow streets to the houses of her enemies. To the places where they often go. To the establishments that they own. The whole map consisted only of those places where she was to visit, tracking them down. Here, only the main goals and workarounds were noted. Below are the names of her enemies.

      «There are seven of them,» she said aloud.

      «Seven?» Damian, busy assembling some kind of homemade weapon, perked up slightly.

      «My enemies,» Blaise explained slightly offended. As if he himself didn’t understand.

      «And it seemed to me much more.»

      «What are you talking about?» Blaise frowned. Did he know something that she did not know.

      «Well…» he drawled, as if she herself should have understood everything. «They have families, bodyguards, accomplices…»

      «Families… not all,» she recalled three, whose relatives were carried away by accidents, disasters or infections, which in itself looked somehow strange, as if planned in advance.

      «So you cannot take from them what they took from you.»

      «But what have their families to do with it…»

      «And what did you and your brother have to do with it? Why were you touched?»

      The picture of the crypt and the seven statues came into her mind again.

      «I don’t know,» she shook her head.

      «There are several explanations, choose any. First, if someone in the family does harm to others, then his relatives are usually no better. One root, one filth. You can only eradicate everything as a whole. Second: there is rock and there is no escape from it, it is on everyone, on you, your dead brother, your distant relatives… Third: if you don’t want to take revenge on you, it’s better to destroy everyone at once.»

      «I think all three explanations are fine with me.» She bent over the map again. «You know the names of my enemies,» she secretly already knew that she was right, but she started repeating it aloud anyway. «Neil is the oldest and most influential. He is the head of everything. The rest always obeyed him. He was almost my father’s equal before he decided to strike. Now he probably feels like in heaven, having received everything.»

      «The skies can be dark and empty, especially after the biblical war that took place there,» Damian remarked, as if expertly.

      Blaise ignored his remark.

      «Then comes Alistair. Not so long ago, he left everything for a church career. And now he is a cardinal.» She plunged the knife into the map, now in a new place. The Church of St. Catherine is his parish. She imagined going there one night. «Holy scoundrel.»

      «All scoundrels have always aspired to religion. It is so convenient to do evil under the guise of something ephemeral that hovers in the sky.»

      «Yeah,» Blaise thought for a moment. «Etienne is in command of the mafia. But for society he is a prestigious gentleman,» she named the third. «Gerald leads the police, so any crime committed by his friends is so easy to hush up.»

      «Your company of seven is comfortable.»

      Blaise nodded.

      «Angelo is a famous actor. Star and idol of the public. Recently he surrounded himself with such bodyguards that it would be difficult to reach him. George and Thomas are the stars of the ring. Whatever I give to break all their bones. But is it really possible to do this?»

      «Anything is possible, baby,» Damian postponed his class for a moment.

      «Even with your bare hands?»

      «You can crush a wall with your hands, you’re just afraid.»

      «I’m not afraid, it’s just that everything you say seems a little fabulous to me,» she raised her eyebrows, already knowing his answer in advance. Anything is possible if you believe in it.

      «I want