“Yesss!” Mina screamed, her voice ear-shattering and rough.

She was on the floor, her legs spread open wide, and her lower body was white-hot with pleasure. She was a meteor that had fallen towards Earth for eons, and was now beginning to heat up as it entered Earth’s atmosphere.

She felt the Gift twitch inside her. It was alive, and it throbbed with delicious malice and evil intent. A hundred pinpricks strained against the walls of her womb like kisses against her clit, and another spasm of filthy joy made her gasp.

“Yesss!” she moaned. Sweat glistened on her naked body, and she was breathing heavily, chest rising and sinking in a frantic, syncopated rhythm. She looked down at her abdomen. It was hardly bloated at all. But she knew it was time. She felt it. Felt the Gift inside her. It had split apart from her—come alive. She could feel its mindless hunger and drive, to seek a body, and claim its soul.

Her body convulsed, and she felt it move. Move with intent.

“It’s coming,” she said, and looked up at Ellie and Sam, who were standing over her, their hungry eyes glued to Mina’s dripping cunt. She could see them shiver. Their hands were between their legs and Mina could hear the wet noise of their slick fingers.

A burst of exquisite joy erupted from Mina’s pussy as her Gift reared, and she felt her pussy spread from the inside. She felt the Gift push against her, pushing its way out, pincers and claws probing and poking, and the pain of it was wonderful.

“I can see it,” Sam said, eyes wide in wonder. “Fuck, yes!”

Another jolt of pure lust and pleasure, and Mina felt it surge and twist and push, and push, and push, and—

With an indescribable explosion of relief it burst out of her, and Mina’s mind was enveloped by a red veil of purpose and dark joy, and she came hard. She arched her back, and her breath caught, and she whimpered and trembled as the pleasure slowly ebbed. Then she felt sharp, hard pricks on her wet skin, and she mewled happily. Her Gift had crawled up her belly, between her breasts, and she raised her hands and caressed its black carapace, in awe of what she had created. She looked at the inhuman thing that she had birthed, and saw in it the will of her Mother. A demon, made from Mina’s flesh, made to corrupt and claim, to make them Hers.

Mina could already feel another one like it growing in her womb.

“That was so fucking hot,” Sam said, glowing with excitement. Her hand had come off her cunt. Mina assumed that she’d come. For a moment, Mina simply lay there, feeling the sweat on her skin evaporate in a futile attempt to cool down her skin. She knew her body was hot enough to slow-boil an egg, her temperature far above any fever that a human could survive. It felt amazing. The heat in her blood reminded her how corrupted she had become. Inhuman. Demonic.

“It’s so small,” Ellie said. “The one that claimed me felt much bigger.”

“It is young,” Mina said, sitting up, her thoughts suddenly glowing with the Mother’s power and knowledge. Her gift skittered off, finding a nice dark place under the sofa.

“It will continue to grow,” she said, firmly. “The Gifts that claimed us had decades or centuries to mature. This one is not as powerful as they were.”

Mina felt the darkness of her Mistress fill her, and she felt the resonance build—not only in herself, but in the others.

“It won’t survive without us,” Sam said, her eyes filled with the same understanding that had overcome Mina. “It needs our resonance.”

Ellie understood, too. Her face turned into a knowing smile. “It will take them longer to claim their victims. Their venom is much weaker.”

“There will be much more pain,” Sam said, grinning sadistically. “Before they are overwhelmed. Before their Soul dies.”

“This one is will claim the final Herald,” Mina said.

“Yesss,” Sam said, smiling wildly. “Jordan! She will be ours!”

“Just like Leah and Jeanne,” Ellie said. Mina and Sam looked at her. Somehow, they all understood who Ellie meant, even though they had never met or seen the ones Ellie was talking about. It was the Mother’s knowledge. Her resonance had reached into Jordan’s and Ana’s mind, and she had seen it all. Once the time came, the Mother’s knowledge and will would guide them. They would do Her will. It was everything they were made for.

The resonance rippled. More knowledge laid itself bare in Mina’s mind, and she got to her feet. Her heart was pounding excitedly, and she could feel the hunger inside her gnash its teeth in her chest, like a rabid dog pulling its leash.

She looked at her fellow flesh-servants, and she could feel the heat of their corrupted minds radiate like fire. Their eyes were burnt-out windows, flickering and intense, but with no more life inside them. Nothing but flesh that served, soulless and without mercy.

“It is time,” Mina said. “The ritual has begun.”

Brother Josiah led his brothers outside through the library. No one spoke. It was the eve of battle, and everyone’s spirits were tense. They surveyed the battlefield.

There were still some police around, but the bulk of the force had left the scene. Most of the remaining ones were outside, where it had started to rain again. The whole day had been dreary and overcast, but now, heavy droplets had started to fall from the sky. It was the kind of heavy rain that managed to drag you down with it, pattering loudly and relentlessly on concrete and roofs.

There were maybe six or eight uniformed men and women still guarding the perimeter, waiting in cars, and dealing with occasional press and bystanders. But even those were rapidly thinning out now. There were only one or two news vans remaining outside, with their occupants in the driver’s compartment or in the back, out of the rain.

Anyone else coming by was either hurriedly trying to catch a glimpse of what the hell had happened before moving on, or they were students trying to visit the library, being sent back on their way by one of the poor officers that had to stand guard in the rain.

Josiah could feel Brother Felipe cast an elaborate spell, and he felt the air around him shudder as the amnestic incantation on the library was renewed.

Josiah made a quiet noise of distaste. Mind magic was a deeply immoral thing to do. But it was a necessary evil in this case, and they were only making the police overlook them. They weren’t permanently changing them. That was something they were strictly forbidden from doing. The human mind was a sacred thing. Changing someone’s thoughts was something that was only done when the only options left were either that and killing them. It was still better than ending a life, even if both meant ending the person they used to be.

Today has been an auspicious day for tradition and established wisdom he pondered. Much might be necessary to rethink after this. How they chose new members. How they thought about non-Abrahamic tradition. How they made collective decisions.

How I treat my fellow man, he thought bitterly. If between all the terrible mistakes of today, there had been one thing good that had come from it: He had discovered a part of himself that he hadn’t known was there. A part of himself that he had shut in, and locked away: His affection for those he loved.

He looked out into the rain, his Brothers at his side. He turned to face them. The absence of Brother Lars cut deep into his soul, but his face remained resolute as he spoke:

“Today, I feel privileged to call you my Brothers. You have my respect, and my gratitude, and my love. When today is done, there will be a reckoning. For me, or the one that follows after me. I have made mistakes in the past, and I have made mistakes today. And I shall be rightly judged for them. But I know one thing: Despite what has happened, we will prevail! Should Lilith’s demons choose to come clawing at us, they will be vanquished. And should they choose to hide in the shadows like the worms that they are, we will free the Soul of Jordan Wright, and break their hold upon this world. Victory is near, Brothers. This stronghold is guarded by magic and by the very divine force that Lilith wants so much to eradicate from this world. We shall not be overcome! We will banish them to the shadows, like our forefathers before us! Brothers! Are you with me?!”

The eyes of his Brothers were alive with divine spirit and determination. He looked at each and every one of them. Muhammad, Marius, Dimitri, Felipe. Together, they would save this world, and protect it from evil. They were strong, and their enemy was weak.

He thought of Ana. It had been all thanks to her. She had exterminated Lilith’s Demons. She had killed the first of the corrupted servants. She had almost single-handedly won the fight for them.

And Josiah had dared to call her a failure. The memory stung in his chest. He couldn’t remember when he’d become this bitter. He’d been young once, too. He himself had known how it felt to lose his parents. When had he lost the ability to emphasize with that? When had he convinced himself that he was doing the right thing by being distant instead of nourishing? He didn’t know—and it felt like a large hole in his chest that he himself had carved. But the thing that stung the most was that he had needed to believe that Ana was dead before he’d finally been able to notice it.

He took Brother Marius aside.

“If anything goes wrong for me,” he said, his voice quiet, more somber than before, “Tell Ana that I’m sorry.”

Jordan watched with quiet fascination as Ana taught Leah the incantations. Jordan was just barely able to remember from somewhere that the Aztec language was called Nahuatl—but that was the extent of her knowledge. She wasn’t able to tell if Ana was doing a good job at pronouncing it, but she seemed extremely proficient.

Jeanne wasn’t doing a bad job of repeating after Ana, either. Jordan watched and listened as Jeanne’s attempts to recite the verses grew more fluid and confident. It wasn’t a lot of words, and she was writing them down in her shorthand in large letters. But Jordan assumed that she would have to do the language justice for this to work.

It’s so weird that you need to make the correct mouth-noises to do magic.

Sister Leah was at her side. Her presence was warm and soft, and the young Healer was smiling softly, looking slightly absent. Jordan had tried to occupy her own racing mind by quietly talking with her, but Leah seemed deep in thought, and they had been shushed pretty quickly anyway.

She watched Jeanne close her eyes and recite the words from memory for the first time, and she suddenly had an intrusive thought about Jeanne’s mind. How she had learned something. Been filed with knowledge. Filled so deeply and eagerly, learning, growing better, understanding what she was meant to do. Understanding! She was meant to serve. They were all meant to serve. Their flesh was—”

She winced, and chilling pain shook her body. Leah had cleansed her.

Fuck, she thought. It really only takes the lightest suggestion to send me spiralling now. My mind is so sensitive to the blood in my veins. Demonic blood. All through me, filling me, coursing through me! Sacred blood, calling to me, controlling me! I will serve! I will—

Another surge of ice through her veins.

“She’s almost impossible to control now,” Leah said, her voice dull with exhaustion and a hint of sadness.

Ana and Jeanne looked over. Jeanne’s expression was one of worry, and Ana’s was even harder than that.

“We should tie her down then,” Ana said, and Jeanne nodded in agreement.

Jordan winced. She glanced down at the stretcher at her feet. It was the kind that they had in ambulances, collapsed together so that it rose off the floor not much higher than a mattress. They had already explained its obvious purpose to her. It had four sets of handcuffs already fastened to the steel frame, meant for her.

This is it, I guess, she thought.

“Okay,” she said, and stepped forward, lying down on the sticky latex padding. Leah knelt down next to her, looking at her sympathetically.

“Wait,” Ana said. “You need to undress first.”

Well, of course I do, she thought bitterly. Of course! Everything else was already fucked, so of course there had to be just that extra bit of humiliation as a cherry on top.

She sighed and pulled her top over her head, and undid her bra. She pulled down her pants, and threw them into the corner of the room. She was cold, now, and she could feel the tips of her breasts harden. She covered them with her hands, wincing at the pain in her nipples where she had pulled out her studs earlier today. They felt raw and sensitive. She could also feel the jagged edge of the obscene and surreal sword wound in her chest, like a tear in paper.

She laid back onto the stretcher. Leah clipped the handcuffs closed around her ankles with a thousand-yard stare, obviously not enjoying it.

“Your hands, please” she said, softly, and Jordan opened her arms, nodding with tight lips and a sigh. Leah cuffed her down, and a cold shiver went through Jordan. She felt helpless and exposed. Her heart was hammering in her ears.

“Guys?” she said, and hated the tinge of panic and fear in her voice.

“Yes,” someone said. Jordan was too caught up in a sudden rush of panic to register who.

“If...,” she started, and her voice caught for a moment. She swallowed. “If I don’t make it... I just wanted to say ‘thank you’. For trying.”

There was a pause. It was Ana that spoke. Jordan could see her take two steps forward, and her pretty face was upside down at the top of Jordan’s vision.

“You will live through this, Jordan,” Ana said, her voice determined and forceful. “Fuck those demon bitches! I’ll not let you down. You can thank me when this is over!”

Jordan snorted in bitter amusement, her tight throat coming undone for a second, and the knot in her chest seemed to loosen just a bit. She felt tears running down her face. She was trembling. She was cold and naked and vulnerable. She felt the cold air against her pussy. She felt their gazes on her naked body, and a surge of adrenaline went through her, welling up in her blood with a sudden heat, and she whimpered.

“Oh God, it’s happening again! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m aaaaghh!!!” she stammered, and her words trembled and lost themselves in the steaming wake of rising pleasure, and her thoughts spiralled higher and higher as the boiling flood rose in her and filled her and filled her and there was no flash of cold pain to keep her from seeing the glory of her purpose. There was no filthy hand touching hers. Nothing but the delicious, perfect pleasure of being enveloped by the Mother’s resonance.

Dark knowledge and purpose filled her, and she smiled. She could feel the resonance of her Mother beneath her, far beneath the earth, where the Order’s cleansing hadn’t reached. She could feel the Heralds approaching, their incandescence like a sunrise on the western horizon.

And with a mind-numbing jolt of pleasure, she could finally remember what her subjugated mind had been forced to forget. The things she had lied about without knowing that it was a lie. Yes! Yes! Yesss!!!

She looked up at Ana, and a well of cruel joy flared up in her pussy when she remembered her secret—the thing that even she herself didn’t know she was: Flesh-servant, subjugated and enslaved. Soulless. Corrupted. The Mother’s hidden knife. Here, at the very heart of the Order. Ready to strike.

“You will die,” Jordan said, relishing the words like wet kisses against her clit as they came out of her mouth without having ever gone through her mind. The Mother had her. She laughed, and moaned, and looked up at those that dared oppose her and screamed out with red-hot rage. The words were no longer her own, but she welcomed them none the less:

“Jordan is mine!”

They all felt it in their amulets when Jordan succumbed to the demonic blood. The ritual had begun. For a brief moment, Josiah fought with the reflex to end it right there and then. All he had to do was will it.

He stopped himself. There was no reason to do it. Jordan was with three Sisters of the Order. She was contained. Besides, he didn’t want to die—even if he was ready to.

Josiah watched the rain, trying to get a feel for the new constant pulse of energy he felt through his amulet of Jordan. He tried to sense its twins around the necks of Brother Marius and Felipe. After a minute, he was able to. The amulet around sister Jeanne’s neck eluded him, lost in the overwhelming resonance of Jordan Wright’s blood.

“Brother Josiah.”

“Yes?” he answered. Brother Felipe had approached him.

“You have commanded us to come with you, and I did not question your command,” he said nervously. “Nor do I question it now, but...”

“Yes?”

“Sister Jeanne asked me to guard the sanctum, and I would ask you to allow me.”

Josiah narrowed his eyes.

“Why would you need to do that?” he asked, trying his best to sound curious and not like he was trying to shut him down.

“I don’t know. She seemed... suspicious of the ritual. I don’t know why.”

“If we are attacked, you might not hear our calls.”

“I know,” Felipe said. “I thought that I might...” he swallowed. “Use a police officer as a messenger.”

“What? No!”

“Jeanne is worried, and they are alone with Lilith’s Herald. Something might go wrong. They might need help.”

Josiah was doing his best not to shout him down. Bend a person’s mind just to deliver messages?! That is inhuman!

“I beg you,” Felipe said. “Jeanne said it was important.”

Josiah winced inwardly. What had given Sister Jeanne reason to ask such a thing? And why hadn’t she confined in Josiah?! He took a deep breath.

“Go down into the cellar. Be most careful not to disturb the ritual,” he said, finally. “And keep both ears open. We will call to you.”

“As I will call out if something goes wrong,” Felipe said. “Thank you.”

With that, he hurried to the back of the library. Josiah turned his attention back outside. Suddenly he felt far less secure than he had just a minute ago. Why would Sister Jeanne do such a thing? He cursed under his breath.

Have I missed something?

The mood in the car was strange. The flesh-servants could all feel the red-hot excitement in each other’s minds. The hunger to kill and hunt and claim the souls of those who were meant to serve. It was completely at odds with the rest of what was happening, which felt like driving to a compulsory visit of some hated relative-in-law.

The car that they had stolen was a silver-grey minivan, and the ride was smooth and quiet. The loudest sound was the rain prattling on the windows and roof. It was a strange mix of utter thrill and calm anticipation, all filtered through the odd mundanity of commuting from one small city to another.

Sam was on the back seat, urgently moaning. In her womb, she could feel her Gift ripen and grow and twist, and she knew it wasn’t long. Mina’s soul had been claimed not long before hers. She was due soon. She remembered the sight of Mina’s pussy lips spreading, small beads of black blood running down her ass as the Gift crawled its way out of her.

She pulled up her shirt to watch her belly softly contort every time her Gift moved. She saw the lower end of her freshly healed battle scar, and gently traced it up her belly, pushing her hand up her shirt, between her tits, up to her collarbone, where the gash ended. It felt hot and raw. Demonic flesh, healing unnaturally fast. She bit her lip with soft pleasure, and she felt how sharp her canines had grown.

She hadn’t gotten a chance to look at herself in a mirror, but she could see the same changes in Mina. It was so fucking hot. She had grown fangs. Not long, but sharp. You might even overlook them if you didn’t pay attention. And Mina’s fingernails were the same: Not much longer than fashion nails, but thick and pointed and hard as steel.

Yes. Sam felt another surge of pleasure as her Gift twisted in her belly. Their bodies were corrupted, and their demonic blood was taking over. Sam felt up her own tits, and she was sure they had grown slightly bigger as well. The studs in her nipples felt like the ends of two glowing chains, dragging her forward. With every second they drove, she could feel how they were getting closer to the place where they needed to be.

“Do you think you will birth your Gift before we arrive?” Ellie asked, turning herself around on the passenger seat to look back. Sam could see her gaze land on her belly, and wander up, following Sam’s arm to her breasts. Sam squeezed them for her and Ellie licked her lips.

“How much longer?” Sam asked, adding “Are we there yet?”, and letting out a small laugh. Can we have McDonald’s after we’ve murdered our Enemies?

Mina didn’t laugh. She was definitely more on the ’one black coffee’ end of the spectrum. Sam pouted. Mina needed to lighten up. What good was being free from your soul if you couldn’t enjoy it?

To each their own, I guess she thought. Mina’s utter focus and ruthlessness was hot in its own way.

“Ten minutes,” Mina said, eyes never leaving the road.

“It’s good to hear that we’ll be there soon,” Sam said, “but we’ll be cutting it awfully close with the unholy fruit of my womb.”

Ellie chuckled, but Sam could feel the nervous tension in the air. Even the throbbing sense of purpose in all of their blood couldn’t quite drown out the air of impending doom.

Sam let herself fall back into the comfort of her blood’s resonance. She let the pleasure in her womb spill through her, and let the hatred and cruelty of her Mother carry her thoughts. A smile returned to her lips, and she thought about her claws, digging into flesh, thought about her Gift, desecrating the Healer’s flesh, thought about Jordan, kneeling, worshipping, her eyes soulless and burning with the fire of the Mother.

Then, suddenly, her abdomen convulsed in wonderful pain, and she nearly came. She felt the roiling energy in her womb come together and funnel itself into the squirming, living, raging thing that grew within her.

“Oh fuck, yes!” she moaned. “It’s coming! It’s coming!”

Ana’s mind was razor-focussed. She could see pages and pages in front of her mind’s eye—illustrations and sources and translations in three languages, and the subtle differences between them.

They were all stark naked now, as they unfortunately had to be. Ana could still feel the burning anger in her chest. The burning anger she had to forcefully rein in while she argued with sister Jeanne about discarding their robes. With every time-wasting word of protest, Ana had wanted to bash in her head with something heavy a little bit more. Why could these fucking assholes not just listen to her once in their fucking lives? Just fucking once! She knew what she was doing! This was going to work!

They would win, now.

She looked at Sister Jeanne, still seeing distrust and caution. She looked at Sister Leah, and saw her look back, and their eyes met for a long time. They were together in this, Ana knew. Their fates were intertwined. Leah was the one person that she could trust. They were together. Belonged together. Leah was hers.

She better fucking be. Ana was about to put her life into Leah’s hands.

“Let’s begin,” Ana said.

“You will fail, whore,” Jordan slurred, her voice detached but filled with audible lust. “The Mother shall have you! You are hers!”

Shut the fuck up, Ana thought in the back of her mind, but most of her concentration managed to remain on her task. She handed Jeanne the dagger. Then, she knelt on the floor next to Jordan, and placed the vessel in her lap. It was almost as large as a salad bowl. Large enough to hold all the blood of a person.

She offered her wrists to Jeanne. Don’t fuck this up, bitch she thought. If Leah had not been there to heal her, she would never have done this. She was not going to die for anyone. Not Josiah, not Leah, not even Jordan... but especially not for Jeanne.

“Are you ready?” Jeanne asked. Ana looked at Leah.

“Yes,” Leah said.

“Yes,” Ana said.

Jeanne nodded, then began reciting the first verse, and her voice filled the room. Ana could feel her skin crawl as the first ripples of divine resonance crawled across reality. It was working.

Jeanne repeated the words, and raised the ceremonial dagger. It glinted in the soft candlelight. Ana held her breath as Jeanne repeated for a third time.

Then the dagger came down, and cut open Ana’s wrists.

“We’re here,” Mina said over the moaning and panting. Sam almost didn’t hear her. She didn’t care either way. She was lost too deeply in pleasure. The Gift was pushing through her distended pussy, sharp and hard and violent. It felt amazing. She screamed in twisted pleasure, and felt it push again, further out, widening her. The wonderful pain filled her like it had when she had been claimed. Her flesh served! Corrupted and tainted and willing!

“Yesss!” she screamed, and she convulsed with a final overwhelming wave of orgasmic joy as her Gift pushed out of her, and the pressure and pain gave way to impossible satisfaction and relief. She whimpered like a whore that had been violently fucked to an inch of her life. It was so fucking good.

When the pleasure had died down, she looked at the flesh-servants in the front seats, and enjoyed their expressions of utter delight. Even Mina looked like she had enjoyed watching. Of course she had. After a moment, Mina’s expression hardened again.

“Soon it will be time,” she said.

Josiah could feel them approach. They could all feel them. All that were wearing the Amulets of Jordan. Josiah had hoped that there would be more time. But it seemed that the time had run out.

“What are they waiting for?” Marius asked, his face in a grimace of disgust. “They’re so close, I can almost... taste them,”

“I can definitely sense them on this side of the building, right in front of us.” Josiah said. “Marius?”

“Yes, me too. And only there. They’re not splitting up. Where are they?”

“Sewers?”

“Maybe, but there’s no connection into the library. If they want in, they’ll have to use the front entrance. There’s a back door, but it’s steel, and there’s an alarm. They won’t be able to ambush us.”

“Maybe they are afraid,” Dimitri said with a thin grin.

“Don’t count on it,” Muhammad growled.

Josiah watched the street through the rain, across the fifty feet of front lawn that stretched before the library. Police tape marked three sides of a rectangle from the edge of the building and up to the sidewalk. The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, and large puddles had formed on the lawn. It was getting darker, but the streetlights hadn’t turned on yet.

The news vans had left. There were only two police cruisers, and two officers standing guard outside. They were alone inside, except for a single policeman guarding the library reception desk, utterly unaware of their presence.

Marius watched the street, feeling the sound of falling rain press against his temples. His eyes darted back and forth, seeing nothing. Against his chest, he could feel the unpleasant throbbing of his Amulet of Jordan, screaming at him, warning him of the roiling resonance behind him, and the lingering threat in front of him.

The rain kept falling, and there was the distant sound of thunder. Marius was weirdly aware of his hands. His fingers were prickling, as if they had gone slightly numb, and his palms felt sweaty and cold. His heart kept beating in his chest, and he tried to calm himself by slowly clenching and unclenching his fists. He felt the weight of his sword, hanging from his belt in its scabbard, waiting to be drawn. Soon. Soon.

Still, no movement outside. Nothing. Only the burning presence he felt, just beyond their sight.

He watched the rain, waiting.

And then, he saw the demons approach.

Somewhere, a bell tolled.