Reverend Mather and Dr. Bashir scowled as Adrammelech walked away. But not without slapping Bashir in the ass; giving a playful smirk as the human disguise as a demoness prostitute shudders at the obvious sexual advance. Knowing nothing could be gained by antagonizing the Grand Chancellor; they clumsly made their way back to the party. Scanning the crowd, they spot Lilith chatting with a mantis like demon with blue chitin instead of the tradition green hue. They amble up to the pair, absently taking a goblet of wine each. Making an effort to blend in they sip the contents and pause as the taste of the wine dances on their palette.
Mather looks at Bashir as the imam scrunches his face in disgust. “Problem,” Mathers asks. “Something wrong with the wine?”
“This is wine,” Bashir blanches. “It tastes vulgar.”
“Its not so bad,” Mathers states as he sips. “It has notes of cinnamon and vanilla. And I thought you Muslims,” Mathers lowering his voice; “abstain from liquor.”
“Believe me,” Bashir gulping the last dregs of the cup in disgust; “with the day we are having; even Mohammad wouldn’t say no to glass of Scotch.”
“Ha!” Mathers shouts loudly. Enough for Lilith and her conversation partner to look at them.
“Is there something amusing?” Lilith inquires as she slithers up to the disguise preacher and imam.
“My friend her your majesty,” Mather doing his best to sound deferential. “She would rather have Scotch then this lovely wine.” Mathers comment, while sipping his cup. “May I enquire? What vintage is it?”
“You would have to ask my husband,” Lilith answering. “He got into this wine kick after a bunch of French monks found their way down here in the 1940’s. They made this batch before being sent to purgatory for finishing their sentence.”
“Sentence,” the disguised Mathers perked up; sounding interested. “What crime did they commit?”
“The same as every mortal,” Lilith responding as she gets another glass of wine from the nearby attendant. “They were Tempted. For them, it was the promise of freedom if they told the Nazis, where the French Partisans were hiding. Or something along that line.” Lilith pausing as she sips her glass. “Or was it hiding jews. Either way, the Nazis lied and killed the Monks. Then they ended up down here.”
Bashir stayed silent as Mathers and Lilith continued to chat. Seeing the human waiter handing out drinks; Bashir calls him over and requests as Scotch. “Might as well have a stiff drink,” Bashir thinks to himself. “To hell with abstinence”, he finishes musing to himself.
It was a minute before the waiter returned to Bashir with the requested drink in hand when a large commotion began at the ballroom entrance.
“Out of my way,” Baal bellows. “We have important news to give to Lucifer.”
Following behind Baal was the Arch angel Michael. Straddled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes was a demon bound in chains. Bashir recognized the person. It was Cromwell. Bashir chugs his Scotch back and quickly beckons for another. “This will not end well,” watching as Lucifer approaches Baal, all the while Lilith quickly joins them.
A hushed pall permeates the ballroom as Baal, Michael, Lucifer and Lilith talk in hushed tones. See Lucifer’s hands flex as he is clearly trying to hold in his rage, Bashir could only guess what would happen next.
“LOCK. HELL. DOWN!” Lucifer bellows as he pulls an obsidian dagger from the ether. Pricking a finger, three drops of blood fall to the floor. A bright shimmer radiates from floor. “By my blood,” Lucifer shouts, “No portals! None may enter! None may leave! Save by my command.”
Scanning the room, Lucifer glares at the party guests. He was just informed by Baal that Cruciata started this whole affair and that her father Beelzebub is helping the Iron Knights evade capture by disguising them.
“We have assassins hiding among us,” Lucifer glaring. All pretense in being a proper host gone, Lucifer continues. “Iron Knights here, in this room as we celebrate! I was just told that Beelzebub has been aiding them!” Screaming as the bound demon held by Michael squirms.
Lucifer stomps to a cask of wine and picks a finger again. Letting a drop of blood fall into the wine, he pours himself a glass and downs the contents in one gulp.
“Blood magic can be very powerful,” Lucifer muttering some nonsense has he fingers the rim of a large chalice. “It can also be dangerous. But only for the untrained.” Lucifer pouring the blood tainted wine into the chalice.
“Fortunately,” Lucifer turning around, “I am an expert in the practice of blood magic.”
Holding the chalice, the lord of hell continues to speak. “Beelzebub’s magic, while powerful cannot match my abilities. My blood will undo any glamor he has placed on these humans and expose them. All will drink from this chalice.”
Lucifer glares at the gathering crowd. “If you are who you say you are, you have nothing to worry about.” Scanning the room, “but if you are not.” Lucifer takes the chalice and forced the bound demon to drink. The magic wine takes instant effect as the disguised demon that Michael is holding turns back into a moderately overweight middle aged balding white man.
“Who is first to drink,” Lucifer turns back to the crowd.