Jack mounted the steps to a narrow stone house, with a door shaped like a keyhole that swung open at his approach. The house inside was done up in shades of black and red, all very smooth and masculine, the sort of flat a banker or a lawyer in the City would own.
"Some live in houses," Belial said. "Some live in abbatoirs and some prefer to float in a void of nothing, listening to the screams of souls when they're in their private space." He shrugged. "Takes all kinds."