Prophaniti

The leader did not. He stepped forward. I could suddenly smell a cold, metallic scent, one that was not new to me.
A warning that came too late.
The leader slowly drew back his cowl. His angular, cruel head was hairless and a cold blue light shone out through his skin. Sharpened, steel-tipped horns sprouted from his brow. His eyes were white slits.
A daemonhost!
‘Cherubael?’ I said, foolishly, stupidly.
‘Your witless ally is not here, Eisenhorn,’ said the being, baring his teeth and gleaming with light.
‘My name is Prophaniti.’



"Malleus", Chapter Fourteen