Right. Back to the real reason Rover and Descry were here. Erskine sank a little closer to the floor, making no effort to hide how he felt about Gabe's transition into more serious matters. Descry would know, anyway. And there were too many soul-readers around these days to try and hide anything important.

It wasn't just about leashing Skulduggery, or Erskine wouldn't have an issue. He knew Skulduggery. It wasn't even about the anger, really, because the whole group sharing the burden of it would do nothing but help. They all knew anger. Everyone had their own individual ways of handling when friends were killed, when a bad guy won, or a battle was lost. No; it was that they were, essentially, leashing Lord Vile.

Because that was a risk. It didn't matter how strong their bond was, or how much more stable Skulduggery was because of it - they were going up against Lucifer. There was a chance, probably a pretty good chance, he'd win. And what would happen to the rest of the Dead Men if Skulduggery became Vile while leashed?

Erskine didn't want to think about it. So he stopped. "What about Paddy?" he asked. "Is he going to be there?"

"Paddy knows," Michael answered the unspoken question. "I had to explain why I was here. He's worried, but he's willing to help."

"Worried?" Erskine twisted all the way around to raise an eyebrow at the Archangel. "You told a Catholic priest that the Devil is running rampant, and he's worried?"

"Catholics believe the Devil is already running rampant," Skulduggery reminded Erskine. "Or at least that he's a force to be reckoned with, and that souls need to be rescued from his clutches. I'm not surprised he isn't more surprised."

"Well, good." Erskine slumped again. "That makes one of us."