Ana was clenching her jaws so hard that there was a low rumbling in her ears, like the sound of an earthquake. She hardly noticed it. The pain in her arms was too distracting. Sister Jeanne had cut deep. Hot blood was streaming down her wrists, and into the vessel, spattering and splashing. Stray drops of it hit her face and chest. She could feel herself getting dizzy, and slightly sick.

Sister Leah laid her hand on Ana’s shoulder, and Ana could feel a surge of magical warmth ripple through her. For a moment, she thought she might throw up. Then, the bitter taste in her mouth passed, and she felt her strength solidify, as if she’d just had a week of restful sleep. The pain ebbed, even though her wrists were still disfigured with two gashing wounds. Leah wasn’t closing them.

Fuck, this sucks she thought. Her blood looked dark in the candlelight, almost black. It was very disturbing to watch. She closed her eyes and drew in a hissing breath as another wave of pain shot up her arms. FUCK! She was so fucking angry. It felt as if the pain was tightening her already frayed nerves to the brink of snapping, and Jordan’s rage-filled curses were like every unreachable itch and teeth-aching sound of her life combined. Ever since Jordan had lost to the resonance and started screaming murder at them, Ana had felt like all of this was suddenly too much. She felt the resonance in her, strong enough to be nauseating—strong enough to taste the iron of blood. She wondered how Leah and Joanne were able to take it. She wondered how longer she would be able to take it. The pain, the stress, the pressure, the nausea, the dizziness. She felt like she was about to break.

Why the fuck am I doing this? she thought. Fuck her. Why should I suffer for her? Why should I suffer for anyone?!

She hated them all. She hated how they had always disrespected her. How they had looked at her when she had presented her research. How Jordan was screaming and moaning now. How Josiah was fucking intolerable. How they were all so weak and pathetic and useless. So weak. So pathetic. Leah’s mind had been so weak and easy to control. They had all been so easy to lie to.

Wait, what?

Mina’s heart was on fire with purpose and hatred. The rain had drenched her down to the bones, and she felt her ponytail stick to the back of her head, heavy with soaked-up water. She could feel it sizzle against her skin where the liquid evaporated.

The library was in front of them, and they were approaching slowly, cautiously. This was the original sanctum. They had returned to the Source. She could sense the Order’s filthy Amulets from here, and they were all in there. Her eyes scanned the lawn and the streets around the epicenter of the Mother’s power, but she neither saw nor felt anyone lying in ambush. The Mother’s knowledge burned within her, and she knew everything that Ana had known when she had been willing flesh: That there were nine of them. Ana, Leah, Jeanne, Felipe, Dimitri, Marius, Muhammad, Lars, and Josiah. Lars was the one they had killed, and Ana was the one they had claimed. That left seven. She also knew that only the men were there to fight them and she could taste Jordan’s blood-addled mind in the knowledge. She allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sensation. Five men left to fight them, then: Felipe, Dimitri, Marius, Muhammad and Josiah. It felt good to know the names of the men they were about to kill. No one would remember them or their pathetic Order. Their corpses would feed the demonic gifts that their women would birth once they served, and their names would never be uttered again.

Sam and Ellie were next to her. Her sisters. Flesh-servants. Together, they approached the library. There were policemen there, and the demonic part of her could sense the magic that was affecting them. As they approached, one of them walked toward them, intent on stopping them.

Then he recognized her.

“Detective Park?!” he said, eyes wide. “Where have you been? You should be at the precinct. The Captain wants to talk to you!”

Mina could feel the urge to kill him gnaw at her incessantly—but she wouldn’t start a fight with armed police when they could be ambushed at any moment. Her entire being screamed about how openly walking into this situation was a mistake, but she trusted in the Mother’s will. They were meant to go here. Meant to face the Order.

“I talked to the Captain,” she said without taking her eyes off the library “It’s all cleared up. He sent me here. This is Samantha Collins. I think you saw her earlier today. She was the one who found the stiff. I wanted to clear something up with her, and need her on the scene.”

The officer looked unsure. “Look,” she said. “You can call the Captain and ask him. Meanwhile, I’m going to go in and get my witness out of the rain, and you’re not going to stop me.”

She pushed past him.

“And who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Ellie.

“I work for Doctor Ferrier,” Ellie said, “I’m here to make sure that Miss Collins won’t be subjected to undue stress.”

The officer shut up, and let them through. Mina smiled inwardly, briefly enjoying the primal satisfaction of lying and deceiving someone. Her eyes were still on the library entrance. She smelled an ambush. Mind-addled police officers... they could shoot them in the back at any second. But she felt the Mother’s resonance in her empty heart and it made her feel safe. She felt the knowledge of how the Order forbade such magic. They were so pathetic and weak. Still, the back of her neck crawled as they stepped onto the lawn and walked straight at the main entrance, way out in the open and exposed.

They hadn’t gone another ten steps when the doors flew open, and four men dressed in black robes stepped out, blades drawn.

Felipe was standing guard outside the sanctum doors, biting his lips. He could hear how Jordan was shamelessly moaning and cursing inside. Even muffled as they were, the sounds of her possessed pleasure were enough to make him deeply uncomfortable. He just hoped his presence here wasn’t enough to disturb the ritual.

But Jeanne had asked him to be here, and he had known that it had been serious. He only wished that she’d found the courage to talk to Josiah directly. But he understood her. He still remembered painfully how furiously he had admonished her when she’d consulted a non-Order biologist in a Matter of cryptozoology without asking his permission. Questioning Brother Josiah was an unwise endeavor, especially when he seemed as set on his ways as he did earlier. Only the Warriors Lars and Muhammad had the guts, and even they weren’t immune from his wrath. That was the reason why they’d all been stunned by his speech earlier. It seemed as if today’s events had managed to shake even Brother Josiah’s unwavering indomitability.

Another scandalous moan from inside the sanctum made Felipe’s thoughts return to the present moment, and the terrible danger they were in—and his hand was resting on the hilt of his short sword, fingers trembling, his body tight-wound and ready to storm in and... do whatever he had to do. Or to run upstairs, and alert Brother Josiah. He dearly hoped that he wouldn’t have to do that. He knew that Josiah would not hesitate; he would take the girl’s life, and then his own.

For a moment, Felipe had the nightmarish intrusive thought of making a mistake, of calling a false alarm. If he acted too rashly, Josiah would die for no reason. And even if he lived, Felipe winced when he imagined Josiah’s punishment for such a failure.

The thought was interrupted by sudden shouting from up above. It was Brother Muhammad, calling for him. The demons had arrived. With a heavy knot in his chest, he looked at the closed door for another moment, and was just about to walk up the stairs when he heard something else from inside the sanctum.

What he heard made him stop in his tracks.

Ana’s arms were unsteady. Not from the pain of her slashed wrists, but from the strain of holding them out in front of herself for so long. Jeanne was pacing around the room, reciting the second verse over and over, her hands up to her wrists in blood, drawing arcs and circles and symbols on the floor around them. Her face was tight with concentration, eyes darting back and forth between what she was doing with her hands and the large reference drawing of the completed circle that they had pinned to the wooden door. She was making steady progress, but it was a lot of work, and it was going slow.

Ana felt another surge of restorative magic flow through her as Leah replenished the life that was slowly but steadily draining out of her.

“They’re here!” Jordan roared, in the same rough voice that had gripped her when her blood had turned itself against her mind and taken her over.

Ana’s blood ran cold, and she felt a surge of anger and frustration. Fuck, we’re only halfway done, she thought. Those fuckers better not—

“It’s time,” Jordan said, and Ana felt a sudden sense of vertigo. It was as if Jordan had talked specifically to her. She looked at Leah, to see if she’d felt it, too—but Leah only stared at her placidly, dutifully doing what she was meant to do. As Ana had made her.

Ana blinked, suddenly feeling strange. What had that strange thought been? What did she do to Leah? Had she done something? Her mind felt suddenly cloudy, as if something thick and warm and red had leaked into it. She felt ill.

“You belong to the Mother,” Jordan said, like she had said seemingly a thousand times before under the demonic influence. “Your flesh will serve!”

But this time, it felt different—as if the words were heavier, louder, more... resonant. Ana shivered. She could swear she had felt something move inside her. In her lower body. It had felt... so fucking good. She looked at Leah, but Leah was mindlessly following her task. Ana’s eyes darted to Jeanne, and met her eyes. Jeanne’s expression was hard, looking at Ana with cold, analytical intensity. Ana’s eyes twitched down Jeanne’s naked body, and noticed that she wasn’t entirely naked.

She was wearing an amulet of Jordan.

A sudden nauseating sense of distaste overcame Ana, and she could feel her body shiver with a rush of intense heat. Jeanne took a step back, her eyebrows furrowing. One hand went up, clenching the Amulet around her neck. The confusion in her eyes slowly turned into fury and disbelief.

“Your flesh must serve!” Jordan proclaimed, and Ana felt as if the words had entered between her legs and awakened a dragon inside her. A wave of unimaginable pleasure rolled through her, and she let out a loud, sudden gasp. Oh God what is happening? she thought—and at the same time she thought Oh yesss, finally! Another wave of heat cascaded through her, and her mind was somehow filled with... wonderful things.

“My flesh must serve,” she moaned, unable to control herself, and surprise and shock rippled through her. The words had spilled out of her before she had known she was going to say them. Oh God, why had she said that? It had felt so right. Her mind was spinning. She felt so good. She shouldn’t feel good. What was happening?!

“Felipe!!!” someone was screaming beyond the fog in Ana's mind. Ana looked at Sister Jeanne, who had started to run for the door, and she felt her hands moving in a complex motion, almost as if by themselves. When she realized that she was casting a spell to subjugate Jeanne’s mind, she also realized that it was exactly what she wanted to do. Yesss! She threw her arms forward, channeling her will through the aether, into Jeanne’s aura. You’re mine, bitch!

She could feel the feedback of Jeanne’s mind. She felt Jeanne’s struggle to remain herself. She felt her fear, and her anger. It was delicious. Jeanne stumbled, almost collapsing, as her mind resisted the urge to stop dead. She whimpered. Pathetic.

Ana was on her feet, and her mind was alive with the rush of truth returning to her, filling her again. It was almost too much to take it. Too much to process.

But she remembered! She remembered Jordan, watching her with empty eyes as Sam and Mina held her down and stripped her naked and forced her legs apart. She remembered crying. She remembered screaming as the Mother's Gift struck.

She wove another spell, letting the mind-controlling magic spill out of her and into Jeanne—and something broke in the woman’s mind. It made Ana's pussy squirm with delight, and she felt her desecrated body throb with black joy as the Mother’s Gift inside her womb awoke. She remembered the blinding agony of the Mother’s Gift, cutting through her body, violating her, torturing her—claiming her!!!

Still, Jeanne was stumbling forward, mumbling Felipe’s name. She uselessly screamed for help, weakly stumbling for the door. Ana couldn’t see her face, but she could taste her mind, pathetic and weak and so close to breaking—just as Leah’s mind had broken under the violence of Ana’s spell. Ana found only delight in their suffering, and she finally recognized the utter cruelty in her heart for what it was. She remembered the moment she had finally let go of a soul she no longer wanted. No longer needed. She remembered being reborn in the Mother’s dark image, cumming and screaming. She remembered who she served. She remembered what she was. Willing flesh!!!

Jeanne reached the door, and fell against it, weakly holding on to the door knob. It turned, and the door opened, and Jeanne fell out, her body limp, as Ana felt her mind collapse and give in to her control. Yessss! You lost!

But just outside the sanctum, framed by the door, was Brother Felipe, his skin white as snow, short sword trembling in his hand. His free hand was hovering where the door handle would be. For a moment, he seemed frozen with fear.

No!!! Panic gripped Ana as it all suddenly came crumbling down around her. We were supposed to be alone! The men were meant to be upstairs, distracted! She twisted her hands through the air, aiming at Felipe, but he was already running, screaming. Ana’s incantation only disturbed the empty air where he had stood. He was going to warn Josiah!

Josiah would not hesitate.

“Leah!” she screamed, without remembering why, and ran after Felipe. “You know what to do! Obey!!!”

“Turn back, demons!” Josiah shouted across the lawn, through the rain. He was pointing his sword at them. “Crawl back into the Godforsaken place that birthed you. The mother of demons is defeated!”

“What makes you say that?” shouted the smallest and slimmest of the demon women. She must be Sam Collins, the one Jordan had shared a domicile with. It was heartbreaking to see such a beautiful young woman and to know that her soul was forfeit. There was no more goodness within her.

“Attack us—and your Herald dies!” he shouted. He would do no such thing unless he had to. He was merely buying time. Not that he really had to do that either. There were only three she-demons. Surely, they wouldn’t attack. They were outnumbered. By now, they had to know what the Brothers of the Order were capable of. They had to know that they stood no chance against them.

In the back of his mind, he had been entertaining scenarios of what he would do if he was faced with ten demons, or seven, or five.

But there were only three. They had only birthed one so-called ‘gift’. Or at least only used one. Still… one was one too many.

“Any chance you give her up if we suck your cocks?” Samantha shouted, interrupting his thoughts.

“You filthy demon whore, how dare you?!” Muhammad screamed in reply.

But Josiah frowned as he tried to focus. What is this? What is going on? Something was wrong. This didn’t make any sense. Why were they doing this? This was suicide. Were they trying to decimate the Order, so they would be weaker the next time Lilith rose from the depths? That wasn’t entirely unlikely, but it felt wrong.

“So you’d rather have our cunts, then?” shouted the Asian one. Detective Mina Park.

“Silence!” Mohammad screamed, fuming with rage. His burning eyes bored into Josiah, begging him to order him to attack.

They’re trying to buy time, too, Josiah thought.

And just as he was thinking this, there came frantic shouting from inside the library. Brother Felipe’s voice, alive with utter panic. “Watch them!” Josiah shouted, and ran inside, his heart racing, sprinting past the entry desk, around into the back.

Brother Felipe was running towards him, shouting.

“Ana is corrupted! The ritual has failed! The ritual has failed! The ritual—”

His eyes went blank as he stumbled to a halt. His mouth stood halfway open, and Josiah could feel the air around him ripple as forbidden magic wrestled his thoughts from him. Josiah’s blood ran cold.

Within a split second, it had all become clear. Lilith’s plan. He didn’t understand how—but he understood. The Amulet of Jordan around his neck screamed its warning, sensing the presence of one of the Mother’s servants, and he knew who it was without needing to look past Felipe.

But he did look, and he saw the young blonde woman that he had loved like his own daughter, standing naked in the library, her body smeared with blood, her open wrists dripping onto the marble floor, her eyes utterly soulless and hostile.

Ana.

The sky fell, and the universe collapsed around him. A leaden sense of shame and anger swallowed him as he was overwhelmed by grief—and he did what he had to.

He raised his sacred blade before him, touching the flat of it against his forehead. He felt its constant pleasant warmth radiate against his skin, and its energies intermingled with his will. After a wordless prayer that lasted less than a heartbeat, he willed Jordan to die.

He felt the energy resonate, and he knew that the sword had done his will. Now, there was only one final act remaining, to end all of this—to save the world. To stop the demonic powers that tried to kill them all. Already, he heard naked footsteps running towards him, inhumanly fast. But he was too quick. He did not hesitate. He drew down the sword, twisted his arm, and slit his own throat.

Ana closed the distance just a moment too slowly. When she had wrested the sword from Josiah’s hands, it was too late. His blood spattered into her face in a thick spray from his open throat.

She discarded the sword, and looked at him. At least I get to see you die, she thought, smiling madly. She could feel the resonance of her Mother, throbbing in the air—and she felt it shift, as if it was rising from below, twisting through space, closer to them, towards Josiah. The pathetic old man was making disgusting noises as he slowly died. He had collapsed to his knees, but Ana had laid her hand around the back of his neck, keeping him from collapsing. His eyes were wild with pain.

“I always hated you,” she spat, scoffing, then smiling. “You weak, pathetic failure,” She gripped him tighter. Ana could feel the Mother’s resonance. It was very close now, making its way to them.

Suddenly, Josiah’s eyes flew open in shock, and Ana smiled. She looked over her shoulder.

It was Jordan.

She was wonderfully naked, her body glistening with sweat as the resonance of her Mother boiled her willing blood—and a freshly healed scar adorned the skin above her heart.

And next to her was the Healer Leah, who had done as Ana had commanded.

Somewhere close, thunder struck. Outside, someone shouted something. Ana turned her head again, looking into the agonized eyes of the dying man—and she saw the pain, and the fear, and the helplessness.

And then, the light in them went out, and his head tilted forward onto his chest as he died. He had lived just long enough to know that he had failed.

If she’d had the time, Ana would have gone to her knees and masturbated over his corpse right then. Instead, she twisted her hands one more time, and with every bit of magic she had left cast one more spell.

Sam’s nerves felt raw with pleasure and fear. She stood in the open, facing her enemies, and the air was sizzling with tension. She could feel her claws itching, ready to kill and maim. She was hungry for blood. But she knew that she had to wait. The part of her that served knew it. The part of her that belonged wholly to Her.

One of the men had rushed inside—the one that the darkness in her knew was Josiah. She hollered at the remaining three, taunting them, insulting them, keeping their attention. Mina did the same, and so did Ellie.

Sam’s body felt like she was under critical tension—like she was strapped into place, and about to rip apart. She knew why she was doing this—but still, her natural animal instincts screamed at her to run. But she had to do the Mother’s will. She wanted it. Wanted it more than her fear and self-preservation could tell her to run or fight.

The standoff drew itself out, both sides hurling insults, no one daring to attack. The Order was buying time, but so were they. Buying time. Distracting them, until their hidden knife could slit their throats. The Mother knew about it all. The forbidden magic of the Order. The powers of their Healers. The ritual to save the Herald.

And now the time to strike had come. Thunder cracked overhead, and Sam flinched. A short moment later, she felt something. Something wonderful. Her nipples ached, and she could feel herself being drawn forward to the resonance that radiated from the library.

Jordan!

Thunder rumbled above them dramatically, and Marius winced. Absurdly, he found himself thinking about coincidence again. What he had read about the Constellation. People arriving at just the right time. A bell tolling at the moment of confrontation. Thunder cracking in a moment of terrible revelation.

The demons took a step forward.

“Brother Josiah!” he called loudly, raising his sword, ready to defend himself. The demons took another step. Brothe— he was about to repeat his call when he felt the air shift around him. It was at once subtle and utterly violent. He didn’t know what had happened, but a sudden sense of utter dread overcame him. He sensed movement, and saw the doors of the two police cars open. The two officers guarding the perimeter were turning around, hands going for their belts.

Oh God, no! he thought as the world seemed to slow to a crawl around him.

“WARDS!!!” he screamed as the first shots rang out.

The Mother's will exploded through their minds, and they all struck at the same time.

Sam and Ellie darted forward to kill and maim, but Mina remained still. I’m not naked this time, she thought as she raised her sidearm to eye-level. The glorious need to destroy filled her and consumed her.

She shot at the brute Muhammad, the one that had almost cut down Sam, and she was joined by the mind-controlled officers around her, all seven of them barraging a single target with bullets. The bastard managed a quick dodge and a sly feint before the first bullet struck him and brought him slightly off balance. That was enough, even for the human reflexes of the subjugated police force.

Still, it took all of them to fell him, and Mina’s magazine was empty when he finally dropped face-first into the muddy grass, a gaping exit wound in the back of his head.

Ellie could already taste her victim’s blood in her mind. He was a pretty young boy with black locks and the look of someone you would cast as the romantic interest in a 19th-century period piece. He saw her coming, readying his rapier. It completed the look. Any other day she would have loved to fuck him raw before ripping out his throat. But right now, all she had in mind was seeing those piercing blue eyes go dead.

She struck—but found only empty air between her fingers. A sharp burst of pleasure and pain erupted in her back. He had slashed her, but she could tell it hadn’t been deep. She screamed, and the anger in her chest felt hot enough to evaporate him. Die, you fucking piece of shit! she thought—but instead of attacking again, she stood back, waiting for him to strike, madly grinning at him. Come on, you fuck.

Suddenly, the air fell silent. It caught her off-guard. She had been filtering out the hail of bullets in her mind—but the barrage had abruptly stopped now, and the sudden absence of ear-shattering noise drew her attention by dumb reflex. Her eyes looked down across the lawn for a split second. That was enough for the pretty boy to launch another strike, and she didn’t see it coming in time. Far too late, she dodged, and felt the sharp steel split the flesh of her arm, down to the bone—where it got stuck.

Ha! Got you now.

With her uninjured hand, she gripped the blade of the rapier that was still wedged in her flesh, and held on tight. The boy tried to pull it back, and the steel came free from her arm—but she held onto it. For a moment, he was thrown off-balance, too slow to adapt to what had just happened. She twisted her arm with all her strength, and snapped the blade off halfway down its length—and rammed it into his throat.

She felt an unnatural resistance just before the steel touched his skin. She instinctively knew that the blade would have bounced off harmlessly if she hadn’t been willing flesh—but her inhuman strength and momentum managed to push it through, deep inside his neck. She saw his eyes go wide with pain. With one more violent motion, she swept the blade sideways, taking out his throat, and he went limp.

Sam was a wild animal, a force of nature, and her body glowed with purpose. The raging fire in her chest carried her on black wings, and her feet felt as if they were barely touching the ground.

The brute was coming for Mina. At least it looked like that had been his plan before he’d become busy with dodging a hail of bullets. Sam ignored the vengeful urge at her core and disregarded him, going instead for the bald, Eastern European-looking one. He and the other one had spread out in an effort to avoid the bullet hail, not realizing that no one was aiming at them. It would hopefully take them a moment to figure that out.

Despite the distraction, Sam still wasn’t fast enough; he saw her coming. He raised his blade, and swung it at her, and she dove forward, catching her momentum in her arms, and cartwheeled up and around, barely able to catch and stop herself from crashing through the glass doors. Another swing of his blade went after her as he spun around—but his strike went wide and missed. Sam hissed at him, showing him her fangs. He went for her—and she dodged, twisting around him, but in too wide an arc to swipe at him. She was faster, but he had an advantage in reach.

Then, Sam sensed a sudden movement—and the library door behind him exploded into a thousand splinters of safety glass as flesh-servant Ana burst through it, trying to tackle him. Somehow, he must have sensed her coming because he managed to duck out of the way—even if just barely. Ana sailed over him and tumbled down the library stairs—but that was all the opening Sam had needed, and she pounced.

She felt her fingers go through his flesh like it was molten taffy, and felt his body break as her weight smashed him into the concrete floor. A burst of pleasure went through her and she celebrated the sensation of killing—but that pleasure soured quickly as she felt something hot and liquid run down her side.

A lot of it.

She looked down at herself, and saw the blade buried in her ribs.

Mother! she thought, and the world went out.

Some part of Leah was crying. She didn’t remember why she would do that—but deep inside of her, something felt wrong. It didn’t last long. The calmness quickly returned. Everything was normal. She was calm.

She was naked. She was in the library. She was back upstairs, with Jordan. Ana had told her to heal her and then follow her. She had to obey Ana. Ana was with Brother Josiah, who was bleeding to death in front of Leah.

She calmly watched him die. It was violent, and messy, and it was taking him a moment to lose all of his blood. He hadn’t cut deep enough to make it as quick as it could have been. If Leah acted immediately, she would surely be able to save him. She had been able to save Jordan. Heal her pierced heart before it stopped beating.

But she served Ana, and Ana wanted him dead. Leah knew that. It made sense. So much sense.

Ana was weaving another spell now, controlling Felipe. He mindlessly obeyed, and assisted her in altering the amnestic spell that was keeping the police from noticing them. Leah knew that she would have done something against that, once. But not now. Now, she listened to Ana, and did what Ana wanted. Did what she told her. Obeyed her. Yes. Obey her. So good. So calm.

Suddenly there was fighting outside—the kind of fighting that Leah would usually be helping with. But she obeyed Ana now, and simply watched as Ana joined the fray to stab her own Brothers in the back.

It was all happening very quickly. Much faster than she had ever seen it happen in movies—and all at once. Before she realized it, Muhammad had been shot, and Dimitri’s skull had been smashed into the concrete floor hard enough to spatter the windowed door next to him with sheets of his blood. Brother Marius was still struggling with someone. He had managed to hurt his attacker, but she had now taken hold of his blade, and—oh no. Marius had just died. She wished she could have helped him, but there was nothing she could have done. After all, she needed to obey Ana. She was so obedient and calm. This was nice. Yes.

It was over, now. They were all dead.

Suddenly, Ana was screaming, and Leah had to obey again, and help her enemies. For a brief moment, she hesitated. Ana had been corrupted. She was evil. But that didn’t matter, did it? Leah had to obey her. So she did. She hurried outside.

She immediately saw that two of the demonic servants were injured, one of them critically. Leah hadn’t paid any attention to them before, because they were her enemies. But now, Ana wanted Leah to heal them, so she did. The first one almost didn’t make it. Dimitri had run her entirely through with his sword. If Leah had taken a few seconds longer to run over to her, she would surely have died. Leah realised that this was Sam Prescott, the second Herald. If Sam had died, then the influence of Lilith would have died with her. Dimitri was dead, and he would have been to one to absorb her power.

Even through her calmness, she felt a soft chill run down her spine. If Leah had let Sam die, Lilith would have lost and the world would have been saved.

But Leah had to obey Ana, so she had healed Sam. She had obeyed, and that made her feel calm and happy.

Why was she so calm and happy?

After a moment of collecting themselves, they all went back inside. Even the police. Their eyes were empty, and Leah could tell how their minds had been bluntly overridden. Ana made them all gather in the back of the library. They were all there now: The demons, and Leah, and the policemen, and Brother Felipe.

Leah was calm. Nothing really touched her. Even when they killed all of the policemen and Felipe, she only felt a detached sense of being where she should be, and doing exactly what she should be doing. Yes. She should be watching this. She should stand there, and do nothing to help them. That was what Ana wanted, and Leah obeyed Ana’s will. Ana wanted Leah to watch them die, so she did.

When the killing was done, the demons let out screams of shameless pleasure, and kissed messily. Leah said nothing. She was calm. She was ready to do what Ana told her. But in her mind, wheels were slowly turning. Something big had just happened. Something she wouldn’t have wanted, once. She knew that, even if she barely felt anything. Calmly, she took in the bloody scene before her like she knew Ana wanted her to. Her mind was calm and smooth, but she knew what it meant.

The Order was defeated. All Heralds were united.

This was the Constellation. The end of the World.

It felt strangely like maybe she should be doing something about that...