Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

"Oh my god!" I moaned as another orgasm swept through me. "You're driving me wild, Azrael!"

"To exorcise a Warlock, you need to bring him or her to orgasm," Azrael continued, grinding her angelic cunt just a little harder into me. "Before he cums, or as he cums, you must draw the Mark of Qayin on his forehead. Then, when he cums, you utter, Shalak. You can draw the Mark at the same time you cast the prayer, or you can draw it beforehand. But, it will not work without the Mark."

The Mark anchored Heaven's power. Where Warlock powers marred and maimed the soul, Heaven's just marked the skin.

"Okay!" I moaned. "Keep fucking me with your cunt! Oh, fuck! Shit, you're driving me wild! Oh my god! Keep fucking me!" Another orgasm exploded through me, my toes curling, my fingers raking her bronze back.

Would it ever end? I prayed it wouldn't.

Azrael kept grinding on me. "The other Prayers only affect Thralls."

"What about the ones used on Mark's sister and my friend, Alice?"

"You shouldn't need those," Azrael answered. "Not with your other powers."

She kissed me again, her tongue snaking into my mouth. I bucked beneath her as I came again. Her every touch just inflamed my lusts, driving me to stronger and stronger orgasms. This was Ecstasy, pure, never-ending pleasure.

Then we were rolling over, and I was on top. It was my turn to fuck her, and I rubbed my pussy hard against her angelic cunt. I ground against her, shuddering atop her, my nipples aching against her flesh, burning with rapture.

Another set of hands touched my ass. A hard cock prodded my pussy. It rubbed up and down my slit and then slid inside me. My cunt spasmed about the dick, cumming so hard, massaging the big, thick shaft filling me.

"Oh, Mark!" I gasped as my husband rammed his cock into my depths. "Fuck me hard! Your naughty filly needs to be ridden soooooo badly!"

Mark fucked me, driving my pussy against Azrael. His cock erupted as he felt the same ecstasy that bathed my body. He grunted and groaned, his cum filling me. Every thrust sent another blast firing into me, cum overflowing my pussy, lubing my cunt tribbing the angel's.

"I miss you so much!" Mark groaned, voice throaty with pleasure as he fucked me harder, cumming so much.

It was amazing as I shared this wonderful pleasure with my husband, my soulmate. We were lost together in the Ecstasy. There was only the intense pleasure we shared. Just flesh pressing against flesh, driving each other to new heights of passion.

For an eternity, we swam through a sea of pleasure. There were no thoughts, no distractions. We weren't even individuals, just sensations trapped in flesh. And for the briefest instant, it was only Mark and me, so close I could not tell where I began and Mark ended. Our souls touched, merged, and I felt the purity of Mark's love for me.

One instant of perfect joy.

When I returned to myself, I lay on my side, cradled in Mark's strong arms. He pressed against my back, spooning against me. He was so strong, so whole. I felt so safe snuggled in his embrace. I didn't want this dream to end. I just wanted to stay in his arms forever. I wiggled back against my husband and stroked his arm. Mark nuzzled my neck, his lips gentle.

I smiled and sighed happily.

Then I realized he was trembling. I heard a muffled sob. I rolled over. His face was red, and tears streamed down his cheeks. I wiped away a tear. He crushed me tightly to his chest. More ragged sobs escaped his lips.

"What is it?" I asked him gently.

"I'm afraid to wake up, Mare." There was so much pain in his blue eyes. "I don't know how much more I can take."

"I'm coming for you." I cupped his face, fighting back my own tears. "You just need to hold out a little longer, Mark. I need you to be strong for me. If you fall apart, I'm going to lose it. I'm barely holding it together."

Mark tensed. His arms tightened about me as he grit his teeth. He swallowed, closed his eyes, and sucked in deep breaths. I stroked his face, wiping away his tears. The sobs had stopped; no more tears fell. After several moments, the tension bled from him.

"Thank you," he whispered. He brushed my cheek, captured my lips with a kiss, and held me until we had to wake. We drew strength from each other. Neither one of us was strong enough to face this problem alone. Together, however, we could overcome anything, accomplish anything. Together we would defeat Brandon.

Mark awoke first.

I was alone. I wanted to cry. They would start beating him again. He just needed to last a little while longer, and it would be over.

I stood up, looking around the emptiness. Azrael was still here, I realized with a start, standing a discreet distance away. I walked over to her, the emptiness turning firm beneath my feet. I had more to learn from the angel and planted myself squarely before her.

"My mom told me about the Cathar prayer. Can you teach it to me?"

Emi, the Dimme - Seattle, WA

"Go swiftly, my daughters," Mother commanded Di and myself.

My twin sister and I were kneeling before her, staring up at her radiant beauty. She had a lush body and silvery hair and the most beautiful face in all the world. She was Lilith, Mother of Monsters. Lilith of the Empty Womb and the Black Moon. We loved her with all our hearts.

"Kill the false Gods Brandon Fitzsimmons and Mark Glassner!" Mother's face burned with anger as she said the hated name.

Mark Glassner.

My hands itched to touch him, to kill him and watch as he falls lifeless to the ground. Di and I would become Mother's favorites then. She would love us more than all her other children. Our reward would be her touch, the Ecstasy. I glanced at my sister, remembering our fumbling experiments this afternoon after we entered into adulthood, our bodies matured. If Mother's touch felt half as good as Di's mouth felt on my pussy, I would kill a hundred men for her.

A thousand!

"We will not fail you, Mother," I promised.

"I know you won't, Emi," Mother answered, her fingers electric as she caressed my face, delight erupting in my nethers for a brief moment as she gave me a taste of the Ecstasy. I shuddered. I would kill a million men for Mother. "Now, go!"

Di and I rose and went ethereal. We were Dimme, more spirit than being. At will, our spirit bodies would take over, allowing us to skirt the Veil between the Mortal World and the Abyss. We could be seen, appearing translucent, or we could pass unseen. While we walked the border, we were no longer bound to the Mortal World and could pass through objects, like the walls of this warehouse.

We traveled south, speeding over the miles. South to the City of Tacoma. It would take us all night and into Monday to cross the distance, but we do not tire. We do not fail. Our Mother's enemies would be dead at our hands.

We are Dimme. We do not fail.

With grace and courage, our Living Goddess placed herself in the hands of the False God. To save the world, she had to surrender to his lust. Only then could she defeat his evil. But great danger circled her, for Brandon had violated all natural laws. He had summoned a Demon.

--The Second Book of Vivian 2:37-39

Monday, September 30th, 2013 - Mary Glassner - Seattle, WA

"Everyone, take your seats. We're beginning our approach," Joslyn's voice crackled over the 747's PA. "We'll be on the ground by 12:17 PM."

I swallowed and hoped she would be careful. I used the Cathar prayer to cloak the plane with invisibility. The US airspace was still closed by Brandon's command, and it was tense as we flew across the country. But, apparently, we did not even show up on radar. Still, I was terrified that a patrolling military jet would blunder into us.

We're landing, Mark, I sent. Just hold on a little longer!

Hurry, Mare! There was so much pain and misery in his sending, I had to bite my lip to keep from being overwhelmed. He was on his third straight day of beatings. He couldn't last much longer.

I gripped the armrest as we descended lower and lower, my heart hammering in my chest with a sudden rush of nerves. We were invisible; no one could see us landing. "Please, please let no one drive out onto the runway."

I looked out the window and watched as the ground rushed up at us. The flaps extended, the airplane slowing. And then came the jarring impact of landing and the sudden, roaring deceleration as we touched down at Boeing Field in southern Seattle.

Mark and I had a private hangar at Boeing Field, and Joslyn and Lynda maneuvered our plane safely towards it. No one was about the airport, luckily, the no-fly zone still in effect. The hangar belonged to Cargo-Air, owned by a billionaire we knew. Brandon shouldn't know about this.

Hopefully.

I glanced out the porthole window and didn't see any soldiers guarding the airport or guarding our hanger. Our maintenance crews were waiting, opening the huge doors. They were all worshipers who had volunteered to be bound to Mark with the Zimmah spell. I could see them staring around apprehensively. They could hear the plane's engines, but not see it.

Once we were safely in the hangar, and the doors closed, I released the prayer. Energy rippled out of me. I couldn't hear the gasps of the ground crew over the turning engines, but I could see their reaction as they flinched at the appearance of the massive plane.

A stair truck maneuvered to the side of the airplane, and I walked down it to an awaiting SUV, left here from our evacuation on Saturday. I climbed into the black Suburban alone. I wasn't going to let any more of my followers get captured. If the plan worked, Brandon's power would be broken. If it failed, it wouldn't matter how many bodyguards I took. We were hopelessly outnumbered by the US Military.

"Good luck, Ma'am," 47, the second-in-command of the bodyguards, said.

I pulled off my silver locket and my wedding band and handed them to her through the rolled-down window. The only thing I wore was my bronze amulet that protected me from bullets. "Keep these safe for me." I fought back tears as I handed over my two most prized possessions. If this went badly, I didn't want Brandon to get his hands on them. "Please."

"Absolutely," she answered. Then she ducked through the open window of the SUV and kissed me on the lips. "For luck."

My bodyguards and other servants all watched me depart in silence. I used a keycard to get out of the airport and headed south on I-5. There was almost no traffic. It was noon on a Monday, and the freeway was disturbingly deserted. I sped south. and in thirty minutes, I was driving through the City of Fife, approaching Tacoma.

I tensed, my heart racing as I stared at the city ahead. I could see the peninsula Tacoma rested upon, St. Jo Hospital at the top of the hill, skyscrapers at the base. Orange cranes rose at the Port of Tacoma between me and the city. I looked for the courthouse which lay about halfway up the hill as I stared across Commencement Bay, but I couldn't pick it out. It was either hidden by a skyscraper or I wasn't looking in the right spot.

The freeway drove past Commencement Bay and the Port of Tacoma, leaving behind Fife. I slowed, spotting a roadblock set up at the Port of Tacoma exit. Three Humvees and a tank-like Stryker blocked the highway. There were a dozen soldiers in desert camo manning a barbwire barricade standing in front of the vehicles. Two large machine guns on tripods anchored the barricade on either side, pointing right at my SUV.

I slowed to a stop fifty feet away. I could see their auras, black fringed with red--Thralls immune to my power. Taking a deep breath, I turned off the SUV as the soldiers approached with their weapons pointed at me, barking loud commands.

I trembled so badly. This would work. It had to. I would save Mark.

"Get out of the car!" the soldiers roared again.

Cautiously, I opened my driver-side door and stepped out, my hands held over my head. The soldiers leered at my naked body, but I held my head up proudly, staring boldly at the soldiers as they rushed at me.

"I am Mary Glassner. Take me to... the God." I almost messed up and called him Brandon. I took a deep breath, then, pretending to be under Brandon's powers, cooed, "I'm ready to be his concubine."

The sergeant commanding the roadblock, older than the fresh-faced soldiers, grabbed my arm and marched me to a Humvee. He placed me in the back, then he and another soldier hopped in, started the vehicle, and turned it around. In moments, they drove me towards Tacoma.

I'm almost there, Mark, I sent, trying to keep my fear out of the thoughts as we passed the Tacoma Dome and neared downtown.

All I got back was a feeling of pain. I tried to keep the panic out of my heart. Please be okay, Mark!

Only pain.

It took five or so minutes to reach the courthouse. I stared out at the chaos before the courthouse. Blood still stained the bricks, and shell casings lay everywhere. Wreckage of Tacoma PD cop cars had been pushed onto the sidewalks. I shuddered as the Humvee pulled up to the curb.

But instead of taking me inside the courthouse, they took me to the County Jail next door. My heart hammered in fear. Did something go wrong? Why weren't they taking me to Brandon? According to the news, the Pierce County Superior Courthouse was his headquarters.

I tried to appear calm as they walked me into the jail. I was a Thrall. One of Brandon's. I had to act like it. I put on a smile. "You're taking me to our God?"

"Yeah," the soldier grunted.

"Good, I am so eager to be his concubine. To be taken by him."

"I bet you are, slut," he laughed.

The jail's first security gate had been blown open. Bullet casings littered the floor and blood stained the walls. The soldiers led me deeper. We had to be buzzed through more security gates that were still intact. I was unnerved to see all the jail cells empty. What had happened to the inmates? The last security gate we passed through opened onto the exercise yard at the center of the jail.

A mass of women huddled in the middle of the yard. They looked numb with terror. I scanned their faces, hoping to recognize any of the bodyguards, or Violet and Leah. I thought I saw Leah, our chauffeur, huddled with 51 and 27. I didn't see any of the other bodyguards or Violet. 51 glanced at me, despair flickering across her ebony face.

That chilled my heart. 51 was so strong, and she looked so broken.

At the other end of the yard, Brandon sat on a raised chair, something mimicking a throne but without any real grandeur. He was surrounded by a group of naked women who fawned over him. I knew from watching the news that Desiree was one of them. I looked for her and spotted her kneeling on Brandon's right. She appeared a willing servant of his, a smile on her face. I wasn't sure how that was possible.

Did Brandon find a way to break the Zimmah bond? Or did he just break her?

Then my eyes fell on Mark manacled hand and foot to a post to my right, his body sprawled on the concrete in view of Brandon's throne. It was hard not to flinch at the sight of him. I almost didn't recognize my husband. His entire body was a bruise, mottled from head to foot with dark purples that faded to browns and sickly yellows. His face was swollen, and he bled from numerous cuts on his brow. One of his blue eyes found mine, the other swollen shut.

My heart broke. I fought off my tears. Now was not the time. I needed to be strong.

The soldiers pushed their way through the women huddled in the center, leading me to Brandon. He had grown younger and fitter since he had captured Mark, no longer balding and overweight. How had he done that? Had he made a second Pact with the Devil? Brandon called it a miracle when he allowed himself to be interviewed last night, more proof of his Divinity.

But that wasn't possible. You could only sell your soul once.

No, he must have made a Pact with another demon. The Magicks of the Witch of Endor had rituals to summon other demons, to make other bargains, many of them foul and dangerous.

"Ah, Mary Glassner, you have finally succumbed to my charms," Brandon smiled, his voice sounding suave and magnanimous.

"How could I not?" I asked, trying to sound as enchanted with him as possible. He needed to believe I was under his power. "You are a God, and I am helpless before your masculinity. I love you! Let me be your concubine!"

I felt his gaze roam my naked body as I knelt before him. My flesh felt soiled as I let the pig's eyes feast on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Mark and drew strength from him. I could endure this humiliation. I could endure anything to save him.

He had endured far more.

I love you. I fiercely sent to my husband. Be strong!

He stirred.

Brandon stood up, unbuckling his pants. His cock was hard, the tip an angry red. "Show me just how much you love me!"

I could endure anything for Mark.

I crawled to Brandon, trying not to wince as my knees scraped on the concrete. Mark had experienced far more pain in the last three days. I could endure a scraped knee. I reached the pig, his cock waving in front of me. His dick was almost as long as Mark's, but lacked my husband's girth. I grasped it with one hand, slowly stroking it, suppressing a disgusted shudder.

"I would love to feel your cock inside my naughty pussy," I purred.

Brandon laughed, "Your wife is quite the slut, eh, Mark? It's not surprising. She's finally seen a real cock. Why don't you suck me off first, whore. Make me cum while your husband watches. Cuckold him, slut."

"Gladly," I lied then opened my mouth and sucked his cock into my lips. I would give him the best blowjob I could. The faster he came, the faster I could exorcise him.

I sucked and bobbed, swirling my tongue about his cock, moaning with all my faked enthusiasm. I had never felt lower, never felt filthier, than right now. But I had to make him believe I was his slave. So I moaned. So I stared up at him with adoration like I would for Mark when I sucked his dick.

After a moment, Brandon pulled his dick out of my mouth, asking, "Whose cock is bigger?"

"Yours, my Lord!" I cooed. "I can't wait to feel it in my naughty cunt! I'll cum so hard on it."

"You will, slut," he laughed as he shoved his cock roughly back into my mouth.

I swirled my tongue around his cock, before sliding my lips all the way down his shaft. I relaxed my esophagus and deep-throated him, my hands gently cupping his balls. It took all my self-control not to bite down on his cock and crush his nuts between my fingers. I slid my mouth back up, sucking hard, then bobbed a few times, rubbing his cock against the inside of my cheeks.

"Fuck, she's a pro at sucking cock!" Brandon moaned. "I hope you're watching your beautiful wife be my whore, Mark!"

Mark's chains rattled, straining. He'll pay for every word once he's exorcised! I sent to Mark. Be strong!

I bobbed faster and faster, hoping Brandon would cum soon so I could get his disgusting cock out of my mouth. Then he gripped my head hard and fucked my face. His cock shoved down my throat. I relaxed, fighting off my instinct to try and break free. I had to keep up this degrading charade until he was exorcised.

"Fucking whore!" Brandon groaned. "Damn your mouth feels great! I'm gonna flood your lips with my cum, and you're gonna drink it down like the good little slut you are!"

His cum disgustingly splashed into my mouth. I couldn't exorcise him with a mouth full of his dick, so I tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. I felt ill as his salty cum filled my mouth. His grip never relented, and I was forced to swallow his large load.

"That's it, whore," he moaned. "Mmm, drink it all down. You are such a slut."

Finally, he finished, pulling out of my mouth. I wanted to spit.

Instead, I looked up at him, forcing myself to lick the cum off my lips as sexily as possible. "Thank you, my Lord. I bet my cunt would feel even better on your big, magnificent cock!"

His blow caught me by surprise.

I lay sprawled on the ground, my face burning with pain. I shook my head, blood dripping from my broken nose. What happened?

Brandon drew back his leg to kick my stomach and fear poured through me. He was trying to hurt my baby. I threw myself away, his foot catching my side instead of my belly. I tumbled across the ground, hip scraping on the rough concrete, skin burning.

"Did you think I was stupid enough to let you fuck me?" Brandon roared. "I know you have the Gift!"

"How?" I coughed.

"Mowdah," Brandon answered. The spell that lets a Warlock see a person's aura. Mine was bronze now. The aura of a Shaman.

"But you don't have a sister," I gasped in a nasally voice as blood poured from my broken nose.

"I have a brother," Brandon answered, a look of distaste appearing on his face.

I felt so stupid. The Mowdah ritual required a sibling's sexual juices. Mark and I used our sisters. We didn't have a choice since neither of us had a brother. How could I forget that you could also use a brother? Karen's warning rang in my mind. Brandon has... other! Sam's scream had drowned out the middle of Karen's warning. But I knew it now.

Brandon has a brother!

She was trying to warn me that my plan would fail.

I fought off my panic and glanced at Mark. I saw him concentrating. He was healing himself, but it would take time, and it would be obvious. I swallowed. I needed to distract Brandon and everyone else. I had to buy Mark time to heal himself. It was the only chance we had.

"I hope you didn't wish for that small cock!" I taunted. "I barely felt it in my mouth."

Brandon sent another kick at me, and I shouted, "Owr!"

Blinding light erupted between us. Brandon stumbled, his kick missing me. Blinking, he roared, "Fucking cunt!"

"Desiree told me she had to fake her orgasms when you fucked her!" I continued to taunt him, scrambling up to my feet. "She couldn't feel your tiny dick inside her! But she never has to fake it with Mark! He has a huge cock!"

The bruises faded on Mark's naked body, the swelling on his face slowly going down. I could see both of his eyes now. They were hard with concentration. I just needed to keep Brandon focused on me.

I backed away as the pig squinted, his vision returning. With a grunting roar, he lunged at me and tripped, falling forward. Desiree had grabbed his legs, holding him tight. Brandon hit the concrete hard. He cursed, spitting a bloody tooth out. He glared at Desiree and kicked my slut hard in the face. Crying out in pain, she let go.

Brandon was on his feet, rounding on Desiree. "I thought you knew your place, cunt!" he screamed at the Latina woman, kicking her hard in the stomach. "Fucking whore!"

"That's mi Reina!" she shouted, defiance burning in her dark eyes as she clutched her stomach.

I moved to help her, but a hand grabbed me from behind. One of the soldiers, his grip crushing-iron as he squeezed my shoulder. Wincing in pain, I reached back, touched his hand, and screamed a single word: "Maveth!"

The soldier fell to the ground, screaming in horror. It was the last thing Azrael taught me before I woke up this morning. Because Azrael was the Angel of Death, she gifted a unique prayer to Shamans. A male Shaman could conjure the dead. A female Shaman could show a person what awaited them in death.

For a Thrall bound with the Zimmah spell, that meant sharing his Warlock's torment in Hell.

I stepped back from the soldier, unnerved by the terror in his hoarse screaming. Would Mark and I experience that same horror when we died? Surely we were not as evil as Brandon? We do not deserve the same punishment that awaits his vile soul. I looked up at Brandon, and he licked his lips nervously.

He didn't know what I just did. The Maveth prayer wasn't in the Magicks of the Witch of Endor.

"Anyone who touches me shall receive the same fate!" I warned, staring at Brandon with all the anger and contempt I could muster.

Other soldiers eyed me warily. "Grab her!" Brandon screamed, an edge of hysteria in his voice. A smug feeling bubbled through me. He was scared of me. "Seize her now!"

Good.

I touched the first soldier who lunged at me, spoke the word, and he fell to the ground in horror. Three more grabbed me. They were all touching my bare skin. It was enough. I spoke and they, too, fell screaming. A gun cracked. I was enveloped in blue as my amulet deflected a shot. I turned to see the soldier who fired. 51 and 27 leaped on him, the two captured bodyguards wrestling him to the ground.

Elation surged in me. Brandon's soldiers were in disarray, and Mark was healing. Everything was swinging in our favor.

"What is going on here?" a voice boomed like an erupting volcano.

I whirled about to see a tall, hulking man entering the exercise yard. Only he wasn't a man. His eyes glowed like coals and his skin was black and cracked like cooling lava. The air stank of rotten eggs as the demon strode across the yard. The women huddled in the center of the yard scrambled to get out of his way, pushing and shoving each other in their terror to escape him.

"Molech, I have your next sacrifice!" Brandon bellowed, pointing right at me. "Mary Glassner!"

Without fear did our glorious Living God face down the foul Demon Molech. No more would the innocent burn beneath his embrace.

--The Gospel of April 38:34

Mark Glassner

Panic seized my heart as Molech strode forward.

I had been watching my wife with pride as I healed. When her plan fell apart, she didn't panic. Instead, she stalled for time so I could recover. She was amazing as she taunted Brandon and fended off his soldiers. For a moment, she appeared to have the upper hand--until Molech arrived like a crashing avalanche. The hulking monstrosity strode closer and closer to my wife. I knew what happened to the women he took. Their screams never stopped echoing through the jail as they burned beneath him.

I concentrated, willing myself to heal faster, trying to fight down my terror for my wife as Molech strode across the yard.

Mary turned to flee as the demon approached her, sending a soldier who tried to grab her screaming to the ground with a single word. I had to heal faster. My tongue started regrowing, expanding and filling up my mouth. I had to heal faster. There wasn't any more time. Molech approached Brandon, who watched with a smirk as Mary was backed into a corner, fear shining in her eyes.

Suddenly, Molech's arm lashed out and seized at nothing. No, not nothing. A woman materialized out of thin air, pale-white and naked. Her hair was whiter than snow, the very absence of any color. Molech had her by the arm, but she did not scream even as her flesh sizzled. Smoke curled greasily from Molech's clenched fist. Instead of screaming, the woman thrust her hand at the demon. Shadows flashed. Molech released her, steam hissing from an ugly fissure in his chest.

The woman vanished.

"What was that?" Brandon gaped where the woman had disappeared.

"Dimme," Molech rumbled. "One of Lilith's spawn. It is an assassin that walks the borders of life and death." The demon fixed his burning coals on Brandon. "I have not gotten all the sacrifices due me yet, so you cannot die."

Molech's fist lashed out, striking something. The Dimme appeared as she was sent sprawling to the ground, her face a bloody ruin. The Dimme hissed at Molech and disappeared, leaving behind pale, pink blood on the concrete. Mary was forgotten as Brandon called his soldiers to surround him. Molech circled slowly, peering about, a grimace creasing his face.

Behind Molech, the Dimme appeared and struck him in the back with shadows. Roaring in pain, he swung around, but the Dimme ducked. A second Dimme materialized behind Brandon, hand lunging at his unprotected back. A soldier saw her and threw himself in front of her blow. Shadows flashed, and the soldier fell lifeless to the floor. The Dimme vanished as the other soldiers opened fire at her.

My tongue was whole. I was healed enough. "Tsalmaveth!"

Energy flowed out of me. Rising from the ground like it was evening around wetlands came mists. It billowed white as it filled the exercise yard. The soldiers guarding Brandon grew more bewildered and started firing wildly as the fog drew together, forming into fifteen figures--the dead I summoned, creating their bodies out of white vapors. In front of me, one of those figures grew swiftly out of the swirling vapors. Its body filled out and a nimbus of silvery light sprang around it. I squinted up at the spirit and saw blue eyes, blonde hair, and a smile.

"Look at all the trouble you get into without me, Master," Chasity grinned.

Clad in silver armor, she held a silver 9mm in her hand. She looked like a Valkyrie, fierce and beautiful. Aiming her gun, she shot off the manacles binding my hands and feet, then held out her hand. I took it. Her grip as strong as ice, as cold as death.

My eyes burned with shock and grief as she helped me to my feet. I looked around, staring at the other ghosts I had summoned: Karen standing before Mary, 25's pouty lips curled into a snarl as she fired her ghostly gun at a group of soldiers, 63's auburn hair flowing like flames behind her as she sprinted across the exercise yard towards Mary. All thirteen of the bodyguards who died for us had been called, protecting us even in death.​