“Well, my job is stopping demons, and I’m sure you know there is an incarnate demon loose in northern Vermont,” Chris said.

The angel looked troubled. “Yeah, about that. I don’t have really any information for you about it.” He rubbed his head, then squatted down to look at the sleeping twins.

Chris frowned. “Nothing?”

“Demons that come through the normal way are something we can track… they leave trails, of sorts. One that has come through in its true form and avoids any religious sites, well, those are kind of shielded from us. But what do you know of it?”

“We think it is female, or at least has a true form that is demonically feminine.”

Barbiel frowned. It was a worried sort of frown. “Are you certain about that?”

“We’re not certain about anything. Why?”

“Females, true females of Hell, are pretty rare. Really only a handful them. Some of them are quite bad.”

Chris stared at him. “Quite bad? We’re talking about demons here—they’re all bad.”

“Yes, yes. I mean bad as in difficult to handle. As in powerful fighters, dangerous planners, crafty opponents. Compared to a female, that demon lord in Washington was really a cakewalk.”

“He seemed pretty tough to me,” Chris growled.

“Oh he was… in a straight-on sort of way. But a female demon will come at you obliquely, when you least expect it, from some angle you never thought of. And then, even if you can face her in time, you’ll have just as much fight, if not more than you had in Washington.”

“That’s all really negative, Barbiel. Don’t you have any suggestions or ideas that can help?”

“Just this, Chris: Do it differently than you have ever done it before. Listen to the women on your team. They may have better instincts against her. Use unconventional methods of demon hunting, use every resource you can find, steal, or imagine, then imagine, steal, and find some more.”

“Hey, Chris,” a voice called from behind him. He turned to see one of the security team, Roger, looking into the Chapel. “Deckert says we’re ready to go.”

“Be right there, Roger,” he said. When he turned back, the angel was gone.

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mack Sutton strolled across the campus, headed toward the Davis Center student union. He had enough time to grab a sandwich before his next class and his stomach was growling like a hound worrying a bone.

He entered the ground floor, the lowest level of the massive building sitting near the center of UVM’s campus, immediately heading for the stairs to the higher levels. The second floor had a café and he liked their roast beef sandwich, especially with a little of the Arcane cafeteria’s horseradish sauce from the little jar in his book bag.