“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s free advice. You had trouble with one overgrown human. I won’t go down that easy.”

That was about enough. Any longer, and he would get dragged into the fight. I had to get him gone. “That’s not what I heard.”

He whipped around and leapt out of the window. The sudden emptiness was startling.

I raised my chin. Showtime. “We’re alone now. Show yourself, worm. I don’t have all night.”

*

The darkness pooling in the corner of the room moved.

It flowed from the ceiling, from the floor, to its center, as if a large piece of the thinnest black gauze had been spread over the far wall and the floor and now someone caught it with a hook and was pulling it to me. I forced myself to sit still, my hand on the shaft of my spear.

The darkness coalesced into a human shape, tall, lean, male, and woven of fire. Smoke swirled around him, transforming into a voluminous black robe and a long cloak. Human skin the color of alabaster sheathed him, obscuring the fire, but failing to hide it completely. It was still there, licking his skin from the inside and warming it with a soft peach glow here and there.

Not just a ma’avir. One of the high priests. Shit. At least I’d gotten Ascanio out of here.

The ma’avir folded his hands in front of him, left palm up, right resting on top of it. He was hairless. No stubble, no eyebrows, no eyelashes. Just smooth skin stretched tight over angular features. His eyes, a light bluish green, fixed me. There was no surprise in them, only recognition. He came here especially for me.

The amount of magic he required to maintain a human form had to be staggering. I wasn’t sure I would win this fight.

The high priest gave me a shallow bow, little more than a nod. “We finally meet, Dananu.”

“What reason would I have to meet with a child killer?”

Leviticus 18:21 prohibited the faithful from sacrificing their children. The specific line stated, “And thou shalt not let any of thy seed pass through the fire to Molech.” The ma’avirim received their name from that act. They were the ones who took living children and “passed them through the fire” to their god. One didn’t become a high priest until he had murdered hundreds.

“I’ve hidden well, yet you knew I was there. Tell me, Dananu, does my magic call to you? Does the sacrificial fire smell sweet? Does its power tempt you?”

“No. It sickens me.”

“Really?” He tilted his head like a puzzled dog. “I think it beckons you. It’s a craving, a gnawing need that only sacrifice can satisfy. Imagine tasting it. Imagine the rush of power flooding through your throbbing veins.”

“Veins don’t throb. Arteries do.”

“Why deny yourself the ecstasy?”

“I don’t know, the burning babies alive part probably has something to do with it.”

“Life is pain and suffering. A nasty and brutish journey of toil and regret.” His magic pressed on me like a heavy weight.

“Thomas Hobbes called. He wants his thesis back.”

“Children are innocent and pure. We spare them a lifetime of misery. In a brief flash of pain, their souls join our god in the glorious eternity of the afterlife.”

“How very noble. Your god feeds on suffering.”

The ma’avir gave me a condescending smile. “All gods feed on suffering. Without it, there are no prayers or offerings. Mankind is selfish. They give only when they have to. If this world was idyllic and life was just, what need would there be for gods?”

The more he talked, the higher the chance I had of learning why he was in Atlanta. But he was too high up on the food chain to let something slip unless I got him agitated. I had to bait him.

“The Christian God doesn’t require blood sacrifice.”

The ma’avir laughed softly. “Oh, but he did. Their god thirsted for blood, he demanded it, and when his ratings slipped, he hid behind a kinder, softer version of himself. How many died in that humble god’s name? How many killed for the martyr? Firstborn sons were his favorite.”

That’s right. Keep ranting. “And yet his followers flourish.”

The ma’avir sneered. “The gullible who willingly swallow lies and the blind who shut their own eyes for the fear they will see the truth. The cults of Abraham. The biggest con of the modern world.”

How to insult Judaism, Christianity, and Islam in three sentences or less. “Tell me, when I kill you, will you pass into the glorious eternity of the afterlife and bask in the love of your god?”

He smiled. “Eventually when I die, yes. But it won’t be today, and it won’t be by your hand.”

He was very sure of that. I leaned forward. “One thing puzzles me. Perhaps you can clear it up, given your vast knowledge.”

“I shall do my best.”

“Those Abrahamic religions you sneer at chased your god out of the world, because nobody wants to sacrifice their children and their future to a rabid glutton eager for the next hit off the sacrificial altar. Since nobody knows who he is, Moloch is starving for followers and he had to be reborn. He became flesh.”

The ma’avir stared at me. Hold on, I’m getting to it.

“So, answer me this, high priest. If I kill you now, and you pass through the mortal veil, what will you find on the other side? Your glorious eternity is empty. Your god isn’t there. He is in Arizona digging in the dirt. Your soul will float in nothing, lost and alone. Do you know what hell is? Hell is the absence of god.”