From now on, Fitz was determined to keep a much closer eye on his Brothers, lest a rogue member should ever again endanger the security of the Order. He switched his gaze from one face to another, scrutinising each in turn, observing their body language and mannerisms. Having learned his lesson from the Abbott affair anything remotely suspicious would have caught his attention, but he could see nothing that concerned him. The initiates of the Pandemonium Club were all visibly keyed up in readiness for tonight’s event. Those who were fortunate enough to be invited to the even more special ceremony planned for afterwards looked particularly animated.

And so they should be, Fitz thought with a smile. Watching the blood of pretty young women being spilled in the name of Thoth was a thrill that never lost its appeal, but the entertainment the Grand Master had devised for his inner circle that night would be a truly ecstatic experience never to be forgotten. For them, the ritual ceremony on the lake was just the hors d’oeuvre; after it had reached its bloody climax, they would retire to the crypts below the house to enjoy the main course. Even Fitz, who had quite literally seen and done it all, was mildly excited by the prospect.

But despite his anticipation of the fun in store for that night, Fitz couldn’t bring himself to feel quite as carefree and happy as his Brothers. He had more worrying matters on his mind.

Fitz was still reeling from the triple-whammy of recent events. The first body blow had been the return of the DNA test results. Rushed through at great expense, they had confirmed his suspicion, fuelled by the on-site investigations of his man Vaughn, that the body in the burned-out van in Albarracín had not been that of Jaden Wolf. Meanwhile, examination of the custom-made denture that Vaughn had brought back from Spain strongly suggested that it was the genuine article. Just as Fitz had feared, it appeared that his former employee Wolf had teamed up with the man sent out to eliminate him. Just when Fitz had thought he had Ben Hope completely stitched up, the clever bastard had managed to find a way to outfox him.

Then, hot on the heels of that discovery had come the mess in Scotland, when the Kirk woman had been magically whisked away from the clutches of Fitz’s men just as they were about to capture her. How in Satan’s name had that happened? Fitz would have concluded that Hope and Wolf were responsible, if not for the further incident that had taken place almost immediately afterwards at Anthony Abbott’s home, right at the opposite end of the country. Which had proved beyond any doubt that he was now dealing with two ex-SAS warriors on the rampage, both with very real reasons to seek reprisals against him.