Zoiia relished her position with the Du Malum Model and Talent Agencies. Gone, was the meek immigrant who once felt powerless; Zoiia was ruthless. Caleb liked that. He made her his Personal Assistant at work and his High Priestess away from the office. Zoiia performed all her tasks with excellence.

"You have made a decision?" He had his back to her, staring out of the high window which looked out to Sydney harbour.

"I have." Zoiia nodded. The movement caused the sunlight coming through the window to dance on her blonde locks.

Caleb turned to face her; she was his perfect porcelain doll. "Profile?" he asked.

"Middle-class family, father a Christian minister of some protestant or fundamentalist denomination. They are no longer on speaking terms after he accused his uncle of sexually abusing him. The mother was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer around the same time so, perhaps that made the father shut out what was really going on with his children. He refused to believe his younger son. After the mother died, the father remarried, but Myrddin loathed his new stepmother. He left home as soon as he could. Oddly, he was left a vast amount of money by the same uncle that he had accused. He even lived with him for a short time."

That got Caleb's attention. He turned to face Zoiia. His thick eyebrows were furrowed. He reminded her of a hawk or some other bird of prey. She knew what she would say next would be of particular interest to him.

"The uncle was an active student of the occult. In fact, I believe you know of him — Harold Joseph Thomas, the third of his name."

"You mean? Oh, Zoiia, that is genius! It is a superb bloodline. Very well done. Does he have the talent? My recollection of the father is that he is a dullard."

"Myrddin is strong. His rage continues to fuel him."

"Indeed? Has his adult mind embraced what he could not as a child?"

"Perhaps. He is more aware than he realises. He just needs a little, encouragement. The abuse was ritualistic."

"Have you fucked him yet?"

Zoiia smiled hungrily. "But of course! He is a very capable lover, however he does seem to have a need to hurt, or be harmed himself."

"Perfect! Pain would have raised the vibrations even further."

"Naturally...I performed the sex magic ritual as you asked. He did not question my motives. He believes I am a Wiccan."

"Well done Zoiia! I approve of the choice. Where is the candidate now?"

"In the waiting area outside. I told him you were interested in using him as a photographer, in one of our print media campaigns."

Caleb put on the suit jacket that he had hung on the back of his chair and adjusted his tie. "Excellent. Show him in now." He walked out from behind his desk to shake Myrddin's hand and usher him into the office. "Mr Thomas, thank you for coming. Your work is excellent, exactly what this campaign is looking for," he said, obsequiously.

A dark look marred Myrddin's features fleetingly. He recovered well, but Caleb had noticed. It left him feeling oddly uncomfortable. Usually, it was he who made others feel that way.

"Really? Do you use freelance photographers often?" Myrddin queried. This was a mistake. He needed to end this interview, quickly.

"Oh, from time to time," Caleb replied.

"What is the campaign about?" Myrddin grinned. Caleb was making it easy for him.

"It's a woman's fragrance."

"I see, and how will photographs of rare plants and insects promote that, exactly? Those are the only photographs I have shown Zoiia. Not something I would usually associate with feminine allure."

"Oh, but your talent is undeniable -"

"Cut the crap, Caleb! What do you really want?"

"Excuse me?" Caleb was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a manner. And the way Myrddin looked at him... The only other person who looked at him that way really knew him, knew what he was about. Somehow, Myrddin knew too. Caleb was sure of it.

"I doubt that you have ever even seen my work. Are you aware of any exhibitions where my photography has been featured? Do you know which, if any, awards I've won? I remember you, Caleb! You came to my uncle's home, frequently."

Caleb smiled, in recognition. By Azazael, he is the one!

Myrddin continued. "It's all right. I forgave him a long time ago, so I suppose I must forgive you too...but that doesn't mean I forget! No, never. My uncle was delving into a very dark form of magic. I didn't agree with his methodology but I did understand the attraction. How could I not? It's a Thomas trait. Never be mediocre. Strive to be great, and then become greater.

"Yes, I know all about his experiments; and yours! You see I was never able to do as I was told as a child. If someone said don't read that or don't go in there, it became so tantalising that I simply had to have my curiosity satisfied. I was only a small child at the time."

Caleb stopped smiling. But surely you came to understand, he thought to himself. You came back willingly. You came to know it was for the greater good. The Thomas family has a long history of magic. Yes, Zoiia has chosen well. Myrddin is the best choice. Surely?

He debated the issue in his head. He could see that Myrddin was angry. Clearly, he was still traumatised after all these years, by what he had witnessed as a small boy, and by what he himself had experienced... Myrddin's voice brought him back to the present.

"You would recall it, since you were there, Caleb. All Hallows Eve, more than twenty years ago. I found the secret room. I saw you use the baby to call Azazael. That child would now be an adult, but it isn't human anymore is it? I know that Azazael walks the Earth here, now, and has taken possession of that former child completely. I know that you are his priest. If Zoiia works for you then she too must be involved."

The thought turned Myrddin's stomach. What had he really helped her with that night? He liked mysterious witchy girls and kinky Goths, but if she was involved with Caleb, then the sex magic was probably anything but innocent? "Whatever you want, the answer is no." He turned to leave but Caleb blocked his path.

"Not so fast brother."

"Brother? How dare you call me that?" Myrddin was livid.

"I dare because it is true. You, me, Zoiia, we are all the children of the great ancient serpent," Caleb spoke softly, but his tone was patronising.

"You're fucked in the head mate! Get out of my way."

"The torment your uncle inflicted on you—did you truly believe it served no other purpose than his exertion of power over you?"

"How do you know about that?" Myrddin felt the revulsion rise like bile up into his mouth. If he didn't get out of there soon, he would be physically sick.

"I know everything. As you yourself have said, you recognise me and you know that I had a friendship with your uncle. You are truly perfect for the candidacy."

"I don't want anything to do with you. Now get out of my way before I hurt you." He turned to leave, again.

"Oh, you won't do anything of the sort!" Caleb snarled at his back. "As I said, I know everything about you, Myrddin Evan Thomas — EVERYTHING!"

Myrddin stopped. He exhaled. Trying to calm himself, he turned around to face Caleb once again. Caleb smiled and nodded appreciatively before continuing.

"The summoning of Azazael was attempted several times before we succeeded the night that you happened upon the ceremony. It was attempted using you too; several times in fact. Perhaps you were too young to remember." He mused. "You are bound to Azazael. You even bare his mark across your back."

Myrddin stiffened. "I have a tattoo, what of it?"

"You have a tattoo of the serpent on your back drawn by one of our priests. You have been watched and guided towards this path since your birth. Nothing has been coincidental."

"Even if that is true, I can choose to say no."

"You can...but..." Caleb laughed softly.

"But what?"

"We, all of the servants of Azazael, know that you killed one of his priests. We know that you killed your uncle."

"Maybe I did and maybe I didn't. One thing I do know is that death by magic will not stand up in a court of law."

Caleb laughed out loud. "Perhaps you're right about that, but death by magic may occur again when you least expect it. What a shame that would be. You have so much to live for! At least listen to our proposal before you decide to run. You would have to run — forever."

"Alright...I'll listen, but not now. I'm late for an appointment." Myrddin pushed past Caleb and walked out of the office without looking back. He needed to get away. He needed to lose himself, forget what he had been or what he may become. He needed Rosemonde.