Belial was, somehow, not at all surprised to see the Antichrist lingering about the Manor, and even less so to find him in the bar.

Ineffable, he supposed, setting down the tray of clean glasses that he needed to put away. The Antichrist was a boy--a young man, really, and looked no odder than a young man should have at first glance--but he was different. His eyes held something strong and infinitely ancient.

And Belial knew--he'd done all the paperwork.

"Might I be of service?" he asked smoothly, presenting Adam with an empty glass.