Jordan felt like a wreck. But she’d done it. She’d shared all the ugly details. Everything she knew. She felt like a wrung-out tube of toothpaste.

“Thank you, Jordan,” Sister Jeanne said. “I know this must have been hard for you.”

It sounded disingenuous. But it was something.

“Let’s just hope we get through this, “ Jordan said, meaning let’s hope that I get through this.

“Sister Jeanne,” Felipe said timorously. “What about the specimen?”

“What specimen?” Jordan asked.

“A ‘Gift’, as you called them. We have retrieved one. It seems that they do not turn to ash once they are bonded with a host. We were going to examine it before you interrupted,” she said, hurriedly adding: “I apologize. A bad choice of words. Your insights were far more valuable than anything we can learn from the body of a dead creature! But we must really get to this task, or the sample might decompose.”

Jordan’s belly tightened with a strange mix of horror and morbid curiosity. She couldn’t tell yet which one was going to win out in the end. She waited for them to move to the back room, but instead Felipe opened one of the crates, and produced a black trash bag, proceeding to put it on a table right next to Jordan.

“Oh! So you’re gonna do that shit right here?!” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“There is nowhere else. You may take a chair and sit down between the book shelves. That way you won’t have to see it.”

Wow, thanks, Jordan thought. Sending me into time-out like a little girl. But she honestly considered doing it. She didn’t know how she’d react to the sight of one of the centipede demons that had eaten Sam’s soul. For a moment, the thought pulled the rug from under her mental footing, but having been through a mental breakdown had dulled the edge somewhat, and she caught herself, feeling only a little bit of utter despair and nausea.

Fuck it.

“I’ll stay. Maybe I can offer some insight,” she said stiffly. Fuck. This day was just one punishment after the other.

“Good. You might know how the pieces fit back together.”

“...Excuse me?!”

Half an hour—and two near-misses on the blood rage front—later, they had the thing cleaned up and assembled.

“Strange,” Jeanne said. “It doesn’t trigger any reaction at all from my amulet of Jordan.”

“Why’s that weird?”

“Because it is plainly demonic in nature, non?”

Jordan frowned. Did magic have natural laws like physics?

“Maybe it’s because it’s dead?” she offered.

“A natural conclusion, and a possibly far-reaching one.”

“Why’s that?”

“We have always thought of the Amulets as detecting anything demonic in nature. That they are unable to detect this creature suggests that we have been measuring a mere side effect. Correlation, not causation.”

“So what is it that they are detecting?” Felipe asked.

“That is exactly the question.”

Before Jeanne could ponder any further, there were footsteps coming down the stairs, and brother Dimitri and Marius stepped in.

Marius was holding a knife and a large bowl. Both were ornately decorated with gold and precious gems.

“We’re back,” Marius announced, somewhat unnecessarily. He was grinning. “We’ve already talked to Josiah, and he says that Ana and Leah won’t be long either. Looks like we’re gonna be able to give this the good old college try.”

Jordan grimaced at him, and he deflated when he realized what he had just said.

“Sorry. I really hope it works, believe me.”

“Yeah,” she said dryly. “Me too.”

Her heart was beating fast, now. She felt like she was falling back-first into the future, and she couldn’t tell if there was a net waiting for her to catch her at the bottom, or if she’d...

...end.

She’d considered many times how there would some day come a moment that would be her last, as certain as there was a moment that followed the one she was in. Her whole life was nothing but a series of moments. Proof by induction. QED.

But now, that moment might be imminent. No. Imminent was too fancy a word. Any moment now might be the one when she died. She felt the closed-off-but-oppressively-volatile wound in her chest. Felt her heart beat as if it wasn’t an affront to the laws of nature, kept alive by literal force of will.

If Josiah decided, she would feel a sudden pain, and dizziness, and before she would be able to realize what was happening, her blood pressure would probably already be too low to stay conscious, and she would die.

Her skin crawled, and she forced herself out of the mental pit. No. You can’t think like this. Fear is the mind killer!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but can we please continue the monster autopsy—because it’s less scary than everything else that is happening around me.”

There was a short, percussive noise, like a cat choking on something. It took her a moment to realize that she had made Dimitri laugh.

Ana and Leah arrived at the library sweaty and exhausted. Getting her suitcase had turned into an unexpected ordeal involving copious amounts of running and braving a hurricane-strength field of mind magic. Even with their wards in place, it had been a mental strain, and the memory of it felt fleeting and exceedingly fuzzy. She felt as if she had done a week’s worth of strenuous work.

If today was ever going to end, she would need a full day of sleep. She felt as if the only thing keeping her on her feet was pure spite. They were so fucking close now. She could feel it in her chest. This was it. One way or another, they would end this. Leah and her. She looked at her Sister. Leah looked just as exhausted as Ana felt, but Ana could see the same glimmer of determination behind her eyes. Leah wouldn’t let her or the Order down. They were sisters. No matter what Ana had to do, Leah would be there with her, helping her. Ana was sure of that.

Brother Josiah greeted them with a concerned look. He looked as if he’d just gotten grave news and yet it seemed like he could not be bothered to tell Ana.

“I was beginning to worry. I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, and Ana felt annoyance boil up in her again. She still was not over the fact that he had distrusted her so much. His attempts to make up for it now by softening up was sickening to her. She wanted to punch him in the face.

“Thank you,” she said instead, managing a smile. Together, they walked into the library, past police and press, and the gazes of the people around them slipped frictionlessly off of them and they entered without ever being noticed. Ana idly wondered if she might feel less aggravated by everything and everyone once she got some sleep, but she could not bring herself to really care about it either way. Right now, she felt unable to feel for anyone, really. Maybe that strange inability to care would alleviate itself, too.

Whatever. Let us get this over with.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking about how best to give Brother Josiah the bad news about the nature of the ritual. She needed to do this. Jordan had to live. And she knew that he would not easily condone way the ritual needed to be performed.

“It is going to be a while,” she said as they walked deeper into the library. “The ritual might take hours to complete—and you will have to guard us as we do it.”

Josiah shot her a shocked glance. “Of course,” he said after a moment, but Ana could taste his dispassion.

“No one can disturb us,” Ana continued. “Only sister Jeanne, Leah and me can be in the sanctum we create. Only women may be present.”

Josiah shook his head, muttering “damn heathens” under his breath. He looked like he was struggling, weighing matters carefully. For a moment, Ana feared that he might call the whole thing off. No. Jordan needs to live!

But after a moment, and a sigh, he nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll call Muhammad, and we will buy you the time you need.”

“What about Lars?” Leah asked. Her voice sounded dreamy and distracted, as if she was minutes away from falling asleep out of exhaustion. Something inside of Ana clenched nervously, as if it was her somehow her fault that Leah was tired, and Brother Josiah would call her out on it.

“Brother Lars has fallen,” Josiah said instead, sounding crestfallen.

Well, tough shit, Ana thought. Live by the sword, die by the sword. “May God rest his soul,” she recited, finding that the words tasted stale and bitter in her mouth.

“He died to protect the innocent,” Josiah said, his voice heavy as lead.

“We need to act quickly,” she went on, rather than saying what she was she was thinking, which was can we get the fuck on with it?

Josiah was lost in thought for another unbearably wasted second, before he finally nodded, and they descended the staircase down into the library catacombs.

“I am making a twenty-centimeter distal incision on the ventral side of the specimen, beginning about five millimeters inferior to the top of the abdominal segment,” Jeanne shouted over the shrill noise of the small rotary saw. A tape recorder hung around her neck, like a necklace. “The carapace appears at first inspection to be made from natural chitin. The material is very hard however, like a durable plastic such as Bakelite. The exoskeleton appears to vary in thickness between one and three millimeters. It appears to be partly dissolved.”

The noise stopped, and Jeanne set the saw aside, grabbing instead a small forceps, and wedging the cut open before going to work with a scalpel.

“The inside appears largely amorphous except for a prominent blood vessel running the transverse axis. There are no discernible vital organs. No trachea. No esophagus.”

Jordan caught a glimpse. The inside looked like chunky mashed beets.

“I will examine the abdomen more closely later,” Jeanne said. “Moving on to the head segment. This part presents a clean cut at what appears to be the posterior end, presumably caused by Brother Dimitri’s hurried removal from its host. The anterior end consists of two sets of mandibles, clamped around two vertebrae that were removed from the host, either high Lumbar or low Thoracic. The entire feeding apparatus seems to have burrowed into the gap between the vertebrae from the anterior side of the host. The parasite appears clearly to have fused with—”

“Hand!” Jordan screamed, and Brother Felipe was with her, his touch sending cold white pain through her that made her teeth ache when her senses returned.

It had only been five minutes since the last time her blood had taken over.

“Perhaps you should get some distance,” Jeanne suggested. Some part of Jordan felt hurt and disrespected, but Jeanne had a point.

“There’ll be no need for that,” a gruff voice said, and they all turned around, to see Brother Josiah, Sister Ana, and Sister Leah enter the basement. Ana was carrying a large black suitcase. “The ritual can begin right away.”

Some knot in Jordan’s chest pulled itself tighter, and she felt her heart racing faster. But she also felt... less frayed. There was less uncertainty now, even if the whole world had just been tinted with an even deeper shade of finality.

Some part of her wanted to ask for five more minutes of time, to put it off, to delay what was about to happen, because she knew that the thing they were going to attempt could fail. Until they tried it, she wouldn’t have to find out if she was doomed or not.

It was a childish thought. She should know better. But right now, she felt like she was seven years old again, hiding under her bed because she didn’t want to go to Nana’s funeral, screaming and holding her ears shut.

She felt all eyes on her.

“Good,” she said. Making her lips move was like rolling a heavy rock uphill. “Let’s go, then.”

Brother Josiah looked at her with respect, nodding. He motioned for Sister Jeanne and Felipe. Ana and Leah walked past him, towards Jordan. Ana looked grim, but determined. Leah looked... strange. Her eyes seemed glassy and distant.

For a moment, Jordan wanted to hug her, to maybe give her some of the comfort that Leah had granted her earlier. But before she could make up her mind, Ana spoke:

“Jordan,” she said, “I promise you will do everything to keep you alive. This will work. Trust me.”

Jordan didn’t know the young woman. She couldn’t be much older than twenty. The only thing that made her look like she wasn’t just another pretty white girl cosplaying as something vaguely culturally insensitive was the utter, almost frightening, seriousness in her expression. It was almost... cold.

But in that Moment, Jordan felt some hope. Despite the silly getups, despite the absurdity and tragedy and sheer terror—here they were. These people had risked their lives for her, and this young blonde girl that she didn’t know looked ready to walk over glass to save her. She briefly wondered why she wasn’t wearing shoes before she sighed and looked her in the eyes.

“I trust you,” Jordan said, and let herself be led into the...

sigh

Into the ritual chamber.

Mina finished the last symbol on the floor, licking the rest of the blood off her fingers. Ellie was already rubbing her cunt to make this space shake with the resonance of her orgasm, and Mina eagerly joined her. Despite the nagging, urgent sense of walking on a tightrope, her touch sent immediate waves of obliterating pleasure through her body, and as soon as she started rubbing herself, the Gift in her womb contorted and convulsed with amazing pain.

It’s so close now.

She could feel it inside her. The Mother’s Gift. Teeth and claws, growing and hardening with unnatural speed.

Ellie moaned next to her, and Mina looked at her naked body, working herself up to the sight of her young, corrupted flesh, remembering how they had claimed her. Ellie locked eyes with her, and Mina smiled hungrily, using her free hand to play with the anchors in her breasts, and she saw Ellie’s horny gaze follow her fingers, and saw her shiver, gasping voicelessly, her body on the verge of bursting. Ellie had wonderful tits. The kind Mina liked to take in her mouth, and feel the softness against her face, feel the gentle weight. Mina’s pussy was on fire, and inside her, she could feel the excited presence of her unborn Gift, smelling the sex, smelling the blood.

She pushed harder, deeper inside her wet snatch, flexing her fingers hard against the inside, probing, chasing the pleasure, finding it. She pushed her hand further inside her body, and with the tip of her finger, she felt it, for just a moment. Something hard, something moving, clipping her fingertip. The fruit of her corrupted body. Fuck yes!

My flesh serves, she thought, and came, and she felt her tainted blood scream and boil, and the air around her vibrated with it, expanding and solidifying, and she screamed and moaned, and through twitching eyelids she saw Ellie buckle and scream, and she felt her come and explode in pleasure, and the vibration resonated, and grew, and tipped over.

And suddenly, this place had become theirs, and the resonance of their Mother arced through them, filling them, filling the air, filling the still-unconscious form of Sam on the sofa next to them.

“Yesss,” they both moaned as they felt the sense of purpose and direction finally fill them again, and a huge wave of relief washed through her when she felt the Mother’s thoughts bleed over from the place beyond, where she waited.

It wasn’t fear, or panic, or anger. It was hope.

For a moment, Mina had trouble recognizing it. It was such a weak pathetic emotion. One that she had left behind when her filthy soul had been consumed.

But in the Mother’s mind, hope had taken on a darker, more violent tone. Hope meant the prospect of fresh prey. Of victory, and conquest, and slaughter. Hope, tainted with spite and lust.

Ellie was moving again, reaching for the bowl of blood they had saved, and carrying it over to the sofa. She opened Sam’s lips and gently poured the warm red liquid into her mouth in small sips, until all of it was gone.

Mina got to her feet, inspecting Ellie’s handiwork. Some blood had spilled around Sam’s mouth, running down her cheeks. She looked like a vampire. It was fucking hot. The huge gash on her chest had hardly healed up until now. The mother’s power had kept her alive, but just barely. They had been lucky. If Sam had died, the tainted blood of the Herald would have awakened in the brute that had tried to kill her. It would have been such a waste of flesh. The Herald needed to be flesh-servant, and female. With a man as the Herald, Ellie would have had to kill him, to receive the Mother’s blessing, and they would have been down to two again.

Seeing that bastard willingly offer himself to be slaughtered, his mind under the thrall of the Mother, would have been some compensation, but keeping Sam alive was obviously preferable.

With the tainted blood inside her, Sam’s skin was regaining some color, and Mina could see the wound already beginning to slowly close itself. It would still take some time to fully heal, but Sam was going to recover now.

“Good,” Mina commented, nodding. “Her flesh will continue to serve. Well done, Ellie.”

“I serve,” Ellie said, licking the words like honey. “All must serve.”

Mina nodded and looked down on the living room floor, at the dead body of their most recent blood sacrifice. From what Ellie had told her, the young man had been a childhood friend of hers. He’d been very eager to see her. Ellie had sucked his cock as Mina had taken his will. When he had offered his flesh, she had been the one to claim it. They had killed his parents, too, but only for the convenience and wicked pleasure of it. With more time, they might have claimed the mother as well, but their Gifts were reserved for other, more important victims.

She felt it squirm inside her womb. Soon. She looked at Ellie again. The Mother’s youngest flesh-servant was rather plain-looking. Not unattractive by any means, but not stunning either. But she did have nice tits, and Mina took a step forward to touch them. Ellie smiled and eagerly fell into the role of Mina’s whore. Mina felt her push her body forward into Mina’s cupping hands, gently thrusting her hips against hers.

“You have served well,” Mina said, feeling the hunger inside her, letting it simmer. “Your mother told us you didn’t have a gun.”

“That was before I moved to Chicago,” Ellie said. “I bet you’re glad I had one, aren’t you? Do you want to reward me and lick my cunt?”

Shameless and greedy. Mina looked at her, and saw the soulless devotion behind her eyes, and suddenly she was the most beautiful thing in the world. Mina wanted to go to her knees and lick Ellie’s despoiled cunt, but she knew that this wasn’t the time. The need to serve the Mother was stronger. They needed to know the Her plan first.

“Guide us, mother,” Mina chanted, looking into Ellie’s eyes, dragging her into the center of the sanctum, into the strongest part of the resonance.

Here’s your reward, she thought, her insides dancing with lust and purpose and joy.

Ellie’s eyes rolled up behind her eyelids, and her face twitched, and her body jerked once, then twice, then relaxed.

“We may yet see this day won,” Ellie said, and her voice has grown rough and hoarse, and it reverberated with something more profound than sound. “You might scramble like cockroaches and rats, but still you prevail. Good. Our enemies waste their time with pride and hubris. They think they are close to winning, but I have seen their plans in the third Herald’s mind. They will fall blindly into our trap.”

“Yesss”, Mina hissed with pleasure.

“But do not think that we have already won. Still, their numbers are stronger than ours, as is their might. Twelve gifts have I sent into this world, and none remain, and only four flesh-servants are at the end of my leash.”

“How will we end them?” Mina asked.

“You must attack,” Ellie said. “Soon—but not yet. All depends on the perfect moment. The wheels are in motion. The pieces are in place. It is a game of lies and deception, and of immense risk.”

“Our flesh will serve!” Mina said, heart beating for her Mother, filled with purpose and need and the eager need to kill at her command. “Command us and we will obey!”

“Serve me well, and you shall become more than flesh,” Ellie said. “But even in failure, you will have served me utterly. You are my flesh, and mine alone.”

Mina understood. She was so completely and thoroughly Hers that she would never let off, never falter, never hesitate to do everything and anything to serve Her. There was nothing too cruel or painful, nothing too depraved. Her whole existence was serving Her, and the Mother would never condemn her for failing, because she would never give anything less than all of herself for Her. Their enemies would feel the Mothers boundless cruelty, but never Her servants. Her servants felt only purpose and glorious lust.

“I will call upon you when the time is ripe,” Ellie said. “Until then you may wait, and enjoy the gift of my pleasure.”

And with that, Ellie’s face went slack, and she stumbled forward. Mina caught her. Mina could feel the flesh-servant’s smooth skin develop goose bumps under her hands. A shiver went through Ellie, and she moaned deeply.

“Oh yesss,” she said, pushing herself deeper into Mina’s embrace. “Mistress! She was inside me! I could feel her take my mind, use my body!”

Some part of Mina felt bitter that she was the only one who hadn’t yet had the pleasure of becoming the Mother’s mouthpiece. She pushed Ellie down to her knees, and Ellie let herself be pushed. Mina looked down at her, and saw the shameless lust in her eyes, eager to lap at the pussy of the Mother’s Herald. Throbbing need welled up inside her chest, and her blood rushed through her ears, filling her mind with wonderful dark joy.

“Serve me,” Mina said, and Ellie did.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Ana said, her words precise and almost painfully sharp. Jordan looked around the room, heart fluttering with excitement. Almost everyone was there, standing in a semicircle.

“The ritual is one of blood sacrifice, as many of the Aztec rites were.”

There was muttering in the room, but Ana shushed them. It felt strange, coming from her. She didn’t seem like the type.

“As I researched this ritual I did not know what it meant, but after having seen the sanctum of the demon mother, I have realized that it is creating an anti-sanctum. Whereas the demons use the blood of one of their subjugated, we will use the blood of one that has received divine rites.”

Jordan could see grim understanding in the eyes around her. She could tell that almost no one was comfortable with the idea at all. But it also wasn’t some exotic, so-called ‘heathen’ rite to them anymore, now that Ana had explained it. It made sense, as far as magic and rituals could make sense.

“I will be the one offering my blood,” Ana continued. “But Sister Leah will heal me and keep me alive. The ritual should work nonetheless. It is strictly blood that is required, not a human life. But letting the amount of blood that is needed would kill me if it wasn’t for the presence of a Healer.”

Again, uncomfortable glances, but no protest.

“Sister Jeanne will have to recite the incantations while Leah and myself conduct the physical part of the ritual. It will take some time to teach her the words, but will not impose on her the burden of offering her blood.”

This was met with a round of approving nods. The only exception was Jeanne herself, curiously. She seemed to consider speaking up for a moment, then thought better of it. But her eyes remained fixed on Ana from that moment, and her expression looked strangely harsh.

“For the ritual to work, unfortunately we will have to let the resonance in Jordan’s blood fully awaken. We can only cleanse what is out in the open, not that which is slumbering.”

Great. Jordan thought, shoulders slumping. Just. Great.

“So do not be alarmed when you feel the presence of the demonic force rise and fall in here,” Ana said.

“But be extra careful when you’re trying to sense an attack coming, it might drown out what’s coming from outside,” Brother Josiah said, cutting in.

“Yes,” Ana said, nodding in his direction before continuing. “And finally: There must be absolutely no disturbance once the ritual has started. Only the three of us may be in here. The text was clear on that: A female priest. A female sacrifice. And only female attendants.”

“Why?” Sister Jeanne asked.

“I do not know,” Ana replied. “A matter of symmetry perhaps.”

“Wouldn’t that mean only men?” Brother Marius asked.

“I’m the center of symmetry,” Jordan said. “The fixed point around which everything else is mirrored. I’m female, so that stays fixed, too.” It made sense. Kind of. Lots of things made sense if you worded them right. But she trusted Ana’s judgment, and she felt very obliged to support her.

There was a moment of silence, and no one else spoke up. She could see reluctant acceptance in Jeanne’s eyes.

“How long, Sister Ana?” Josiah said.

“Two hours,” Ana said, and a murmur went through the room. “If we are lucky, ninety minutes. If we ’re unlucky, maybe even three hours. I have never performed it, of course, so I do not know for sure.”

“That’s a long time,” Brother Marius said.

“It is,” Ana admitted. “But we must try.”

“Jordan,” Brother Josiah said, and his voice was as tender as she’d ever heard it. “If we are attacked, we will fight for you. We are sworn to protect the innocent. But I also swore to protect the Order, and I...”

He swallowed hard.

“...it might never even come to that... maybe the enemy is too weak, or maybe we have enough time, and they never come. But...,”

His face was strained.

“If we face a threat too great, I cannot in good conscience sacrifice the lives of my Brothers and Sister for yours. I will have to let you die.”

A deathly chill went through Jordan’s spine. She took a couple of shivering breaths. The silence around her was deafening.

“I get it,” she finally said. Her stomach was tight with sickening dread. “I—fucking get it. Still... fuck you for saying that to my face.”

Josiah looked at her with an unreadable expression. “Perhaps it consoles you that taking your life means that I will also have to take my own,” he said.

“Nope. Not even a little bit,” she said, shaking her head, and after a pause: “Let’s just pray you won’t have to.”

And in that moment, everyone around her bowed their heads and crossed their fingers in silent prayer. They’d taken her words very, very, literally.

Fuck. I forgot that God is real.

She closed her eyes, and tried to imagine a higher power, existing somewhere above and around them, and inside them, permeating the world. She willed her thoughts in that direction, willed them to be heard, willed them to somehow touch and interact with the unknowable, undefinable thing that was out there. She didn’t recite any words in her mind. She only focussed on reaching out in every possible direction, opening herself up, and calling out to every conceivable mental image of divinity at once. If something was out there, it would surely be powerful enough to understand her without needing something as mundane as words.

She felt nothing of course, except for the dull beat of her heart, ceaseless and slightly painful. Maybe she’d been heard. Maybe she was missing the secret technique. Whatever. She’d tried.

“Divinity bless us,” Brother Jordan said, and nodded. “Sister Ana, begin at once. Brothers, with me.”

One by one, they filed out of the ritual chamber. Brother Marius was the last one.

“Good luck,” he said, and closed the door behind him.