Incest/Taboo The Devil's Pact

She kept cumming, overwhelmed by my Lust. Her pleasure had her hissing in insensibility. Her mind drowned in the rapture I gave her. I treasured it. My touch so overwhelmed, so consumed. Her pussy spasmed harder and harder about my dick, sucking at it, wanting my cum billowing into her depths.

I drank in her passion. I devoured her lust. It felt as delightful to me as her cunt spasming upon my cock. It brought me closer and closer to spilling into her. I pumped faster, my tits bouncing before me. I touched her supple back.

Juices gushed from her pussy.

"Yes, yes!" she hissed. "I'm your whore, Mother!"

"You are!" I groaned. "My wonderful, delightful daughter-whore!"

I increased the Lust flowing into her. She screamed, her back twisting around, bending almost in half. I grabbed her small breast, pinching her dark nipple between my finger. She quivered and contorted, her pussy sucking at my dick.

I kept pounding her snatch. She never stopped cumming, one climax spilling into the next. My orgasm built quickly. I didn't fight it. Haja would be here soon. I shuddered, burying into my daughter's pussy.

And came.

I flooded her cunt with my black seed. It pumped out of me, filling her to the hilt. She hissed so loudly, her hardest orgasm yet contorting her body. Her nipple pulled out of my fingers as she collapsed on the table, sweat glistening on her body.

"Yes," I moaned as the rapture billowed through me. I savored my own pleasure as I drank in hers. Such a delicious meal. "Enjoy your reward. You did such amazing work. You made me so happy."

I ripped my girl-dick out of her. I shuddered at the sight of my inky cum leaking out of her pink depths. I sucked in a deep breath as she slipped off my desk, kneeling before me. She gazed up at me, her snake-slitted eyes glassy with her pleasure.

"Thank you, thank you!" she hissed. "I love you, Mother!"

She bent over. Her long tongue licked at my feet. I savored the wet, wonderful sensation.

"I love you, too, daughter," I lied. My daughters were merely tools to increase my power, and no matter how useful you found your tools, you didn't love them. "You are dismissed, Abby."

My daughter stood on shaky legs, bowed, and stumbled out of the room past Lana. I hadn't noticed my priestess return. Her eyes glanced down to my still-hard cock drenched in Abby's juices. Lust shone in my priestess's in those blue depths.

"Haja is on her way, my Goddess," Lana said. Her eyes flickered to the dagger sitting on my desk. Something other than lust flicked across her face. She swallowed. "What is that?"

I picked up the dagger, staring at the deformed blade. "Mark Glassner's death."

I nicked my finger with the blade. A single, dark bead of blood welled from the cut and landed upon the black metal. For a moment, the dagger burned scarlet, drinking in my blood, and binding itself to my life. I could feel the cursed thing like an ugly, throbbing wound upon my forehead, burning like a brand.

"A single cut from this blade will kill any man or woman in minutes," I explained. "Nothing can heal this weapon's wounds once it has been bound to a person."

"Nothing?" Lana asked. "Not even the Tsariy ritual?"

"Not even that," I answered. Then I hesitated. "Well, no, my life is bound into the blade, and only my life's blood could heal the wounded."

"I see," Lana replied carefully. "Isn't that taking a risk? Shouldn't I be bound to it? Or one of your other daughters?"

I smiled at her. "No, it's more satisfying this way."

I stared at the blade. In November, Mark would stand before me on the anniversary of our agreement. I would get to watch him die, writhing in pain, helpless like the worm he was. It would be so satisfying knowing that I was his only salvation, that if he wasn't howling in agony, all he had to do to survive would be to kill me.

But he'd fail. He'd die, and everyone bound to him would perish with him.

Then the world would be mine. I would cleanse it of every single, last man--purged as clean of the vermin as my city of Seattle was.

A knock rattled my door.

"You may enter my presence," I said, turning.

Haja entered a moment later, thin and pale, as if she had no color. Except her eyes. They were an ever-shifting rainbow. She was an Aja, capable of manipulating light. She could bend it about her and hide in the distortion, or she could focus the light to a bright beam that would slice through almost anything. Chantelle called her power a laser--one of the many filthy things invented by men in this time.

I carefully wrapped the dagger in the cloth and handed it to Haja. "Take this to Ziki," I commanded. "Do not cut yourself with the blade."

"Yes, Mother," Haja answered, her voice little more than a whisper.

"And do not be seen! I will be most displeased."

"I won't, Mother." She trembled in fear before me.

"Good, go," I smiled, savoring her terrified awe of me. All should quiver before a goddess.

As Aja left my office, I spotted young Crystal waiting outside. The next group of women I needed to impregnate must be ready. Every woman in Seattle had to submit to my affections and bear me a daughter. When November came, and Mark Glassner lay dead at my feet, my army of monstrous daughters would be as numerous as the stars in the sky.

They would swarm across the world.

On November 17th, 2014, the world belonged to the Tyrants. Almost every country had capitulated to their rule, and the majority of humankind was enthralled by their words. On November 18th, Darkness and Fire fell across the Earth.

--excerpt from The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy, by Tina Allard

Monday, November 17th, 2014 - Mary Glassner - The Mansion

"Master, I've finished negotiating the details for tomorrow's meeting," Jessica reported.

Chase burped as I patted her back. I had just finished nursing my six-month-old daughter. She was growing so fast, looking around the table and babbling in baby talk. She was just so cute; I couldn't resist giving her forehead a kiss.

We sat at the dining room table, finishing a delicious dinner the maids had prepared. All the sluts were here for tomorrow's meeting with Lilith. Alison and Desiree had returned from Japan, where they had just finished hunting down a Warlock who could kill people by writing their names down in a notebook. Lillian had spent the last week at meetings at the United Nations, making sure the delegates and the NGOs understood the Theocracy's position on the various issues.

It was almost time to dissolve the organization and replace it with our own world government.

"And what are these demands?" Mark asked Jessica.

"We'll meet at the same spot as last year," Jessica answered. "Although, it will be at noon. Lilith will be accompanied by Chantelle and Lana, and you may bring two others. Obviously Mistress is one, and I think I should be the second. I've spent the last month negotiating with Chantelle; I've come to know how she thinks."

Mark glanced at me, arching an eyebrow.

I think that will work, I sent to my husband through our telepathic bond. Our souls were united in so many different ways.

"Okay, the three of us," Mark nodded. "No guards?"

"We leave all guards and soldiers three hundred yards back," Jessica replied. "It will be the three of us meeting Lilith and her two priestesses in the middle. If her daughters try something, you'll have time to summon Chasity and the other ghosts to defend yourself and Mistress."

"Good work," I told Jessica, reaching out and stroking her caramel hand, holding Chase in the other.

She flushed, "Thank you, Mistress."

I gave her one last squeeze. Then I handed Chase to a maid and turned back to my dinner. "I hope this meeting doesn't take too long. Missy wants to have her dress fitting tomorrow afternoon."

"It seems like I just went to one of your sisters' weddings," Mark sighed.

"Shannon got married in August, Mark," I said, rolling my eyes. "That was almost three months ago."

"Really?" he said, blinking in surprise. "Where did the time go?"

"The Middle East," I said, suppressing a shudder. That had been a frustrating few months putting most of the Muslim world under our power.

"Right," he grimaced. "When are Missy and Damien getting married?"

"December 7th," I replied. "Don't ask why. I think she chose it at random."

"Speaking of weddings, Master," Violet said suddenly. "I'm going to pop the question to Cindy." She glanced at Mark. "That's okay, right, Master?"

"Of course," Mark smiled. "So long as we get to bless you at the altar."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Master," Violet giggled.

I glanced at April. She was happily chatting with Korina. It seemed our nerdy slut had finally gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Violet. I bet Hayfa had something to do with that. The two seemed close these days. April always seemed to find some excuse to visit Willow's clinic and see the nurse at work.

The maids brought in dessert. Mark just nudged it with his fork, his face taut, his eyes distant. He was tense, nervous. The meeting tomorrow could go disastrously wrong. My own stomach roiled, his worry infecting me. Lilith was mercurial and unpredictable. And she's spent the last year breeding her children. Our spies in the city reported that all women in Seattle were required to submit to her affections. Every day, dozens were brought to her, often by force, and impregnated by the demoness.

To contain the threat, we had the Legion, the army who swore to my husband, ringing the city. Mark's monk powers gave them the ability to fight demonic creatures better than regular soldiers. The ranks of the Legion had swollen over the last year with women who'd lost husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers to the Wormwood Plague.

They itched to get revenge on Lilith. If she betrayed us, we'd level Seattle. So it would be stupid of her to try anything tomorrow.

I pushed back from the table and walked around to Mark, my hands kneading his shoulders as I bent down to whisper, "Come to bed. Let me soothe your nerves."

"Sure," Mark answered. He stood up, his eyes peering down my low-cut, green dress. That brought a smile to my lips. I puffed out my chest, feeling sexy.

I hooked my arm around his. "Goodnight, my sluts," I said to them. "I want all of you well-rested and ready for the backup plan." Just in case things went wrong, I wanted to be ready to trap Lucifer.

"Good night, Mistress," Xiu smiled. "We'll be ready. Right, sluts?"

Everyone nodded or voiced their agreement, and then Mark ushered me out of the dining room. We walked through the richly appointed halls of our mansion, past some of my favorite paintings: Girls at the Piano, Two Sisters on the Terrace, and Abduction of Europa. I wished I had half the talent of Pierre August Renoir. Mark loved my paintings. He always told me my art was the best. He even hung a few in his office; his favorite was my painting of Mount Rainier.

My husband, sadly, had no real taste in art. I only had passable talent, but it always was nice to hear him praise my works, even if they were terrible.

Inside our bedroom, I unbuttoned my husband's shirt, taking time to work each one with care, exposing his brawny chest. He looked so hunky with his shirt hanging open. I fingered the lines of his hard muscles before trailing down to his pants. I loved his muscles; they were so yummy. My pussy was growing damp as I stroked them.

But I needed something to satiate that horny pussy.

I undid his belt and pulled off his pants and boxers, freeing his semi-hard cock rising from the tangle of dark-brown pubic hair. I stared at it, licking my lips. I wanted to suck it. But I also wanted to help my husband relax.

"Lie down on your stomach," I ordered my husband.

"Yes, hun," he said. Sometimes he liked it when I told him what to do, just being passive. Other times, he seized me like a man and took me hard.

I liked that a lot. But variety was nice.

I unzipped my dress and let it fall to the floor as he moved to the bed. I wore nothing underneath, my plump breasts swaying, my legs long and lithe. My husband's eyes drank in my nudity with hungry eyes.

Nothing made a woman feel sexier than a man's lusty gaze.

Mark stretched out on his back as I fetched the massage oil. The maids always kept it stocked in my nightstand drawer. I paused to admire his rump. He had buns of steel. I giggled, remembering those exercise commercials when I was a little girl.

I gave his hard butt a smack.

He groaned.

I straddled his ass, rubbing my waxed-bare pussy into his flesh. I shifted, savoring the sensation, my clit throbbing against it. Then I dumped the oil on his back. He flinched at the cold contact and then let out a groan. I drizzled more of the cinnamon-flavored liquid across his back, breathing in the scent.

Bottle capped, I went to work. I spread it across his flesh, rubbing it into his muscles. He shifted beneath me as I worked up to his shoulders. I started at his neck, kneading both my thumbs into his flesh.

"You're so tense," I said, working at a knot in his neck. "It's going to be fine tomorrow."

"Will it?"

"Probably," I admitted, that sinking pit returning in my stomach as I massaged lower.

He sighed, the tension melting out of him. I could feel the strain in my muscles relax, the ropy sinews not as tight. I enjoyed this moment. There was something so special about massaging your lover, giving him relief. It grew that warmth of satisfaction in my belly, that joy beating in my heart.

I eased his burdens just a smidge.

As I worked my hands lower, I leaned over and kissed his back. I savored the spicy oil on my lips as I stroked his lower back. I smooched down his spine, my pussy sliding off his ass as I worked on his tailbone.

Then my hands found his firm butt. He had such a fine ass, perfectly sculpted. My fingers dug into his glutes. He groaned, hugging his pillows, his head on his side, eyes closed. A smile grew on his lips as I relaxed the tension out of his hard muscles.

Unable to resist, I leaned down and gave his butt-cheek a nip with my teeth. He groaned, and I kissed the fading impression of my teeth.

"Mare," he sighed. "You naughty filly."

"Always," I giggled and gave him one last smooch on the ass.

His butt done, I turned myself around and started on his powerful thighs. Pleasure tingled through me as I worked his legs, rubbing my pussy on his ass, now slicked by the massage oil. My clit tingled as my labia drank in the sensation.

Mark sighed as I worked his calves. I had to lean over to reach, grinding my clit even harder into his muscles. I squirmed from side to side as I massaged his legs, working the last kinks out of them. I shivered, my pussy dripping with excitement.

"Time to turn over," I announced.

"Thanks, Mare," he whispered. "That felt amazing."

"Wait until I do your other side," I giggled.

"Do you really think everything's going to go smoothly tomorrow?" he asked, shifting beneath me.

"I hope it will," I answered, slipping off and kneeling beside him. "Lilith has to know we could wipe her city off the map if it came down to it. I think she's too cowardly to try to attack us herself. She likes to use her daughters and keep herself at arm's length."

"She has daughters who can turn invisible. They bend light around them or they blend into their surroundings." He paused, face a mask of stone. "This could be a trap."

"You can summon your armor at a moment's notice," I pointed out. "Our soldiers won't be far away, and the ghosts can cover ground rapidly if they choose to. She'd be stupid to try to do anything. Now turn over; I want to relax, not nibble at our worry until we're both ragged bones."

Mark's face relaxed. Then he rolled over onto his back, his cock at full mast. A wave of heat washed through me. I straddled his waist and settled my pussy against his dick. I groaned, rubbing his cock into the wet groove of my pussy. I shifted my weight, enjoying the feel of his dick sliding through my labia and nudging my clit as I poured more massage oil on his chest.

I leaned over, working on his pecs. My breasts swayed before me as his dick twitched against my pussy. That felt nice. I grinned at him, working my fingers into the powerful muscles of his chest, enjoying his sculpted physique.

He had the body of a god. And he was all mine.

Mostly. But I didn't mind sharing his body since I had his heart.

"You are so beautiful," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He squeezed my breast. I shuddered as a bead of milk leaked out of my nipple. He scooped it up on his finger and brought it to his mouth, sucking it clean.

"You're not so bad-looking yourself," I smiled back as he savored my breast milk.

His dick twitched harder beneath my pussy as he worked towards his stomach. "I think there's another part of my body that needs to be massaged more than my stomach."

"Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence as I slid my pussy against his shaft. "What part?"

Mark grinned at me, that boyish look that always made my heart speed up. Blood rushed through my veins, my pussy aching more. "I think my cock needs a deep tissue massage."

"An intimate, deep tissue massage?"

"As deep as possible, Mare."

I slid his shaft until I felt the head of his cock nudging at my pussy's entrance. "I think I can help you out with that, hun."

He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, as I slowly slid my pussy down the length of his cock. It felt so wonderful as his dick rubbed against my sheath, filling me up as I took him all the way to the root. I squirmed on him, grinding my clit, savoring his girth in me.

I rose, squeezing his cock with my pussy, and then relaxed it, massaging him with my inner depths. I didn't move my hips; I just massaged his cock with my cunt's muscles. He twitched and groaned inside me as I clenched over and over on his dick, loving the way his face twisted with pleasure.

"Christ, that's driving me crazy!" he groaned.

"Good," I purred. "You wanted a deep tissue massage." I clamped my snatch down on his dick hard, squirming my hips to stir him around my dick while rubbing my clit into his pubic bone. "And you'll not find deeper than my pussy."

"Naughty filly!" he groaned, his hands finding my breasts.

I shuddered as he rolled my right nipple between his thumb and pointed finger. The tingling pleasure racing for my nub made it harder to resist pumping my hips up and down, to ride his dick. I fought it, groaning through my clenched teeth.

Then he attacked my left nipple, too. He rolled and twisted and pinched them both. My head leaned back, my hair sweeping about my shoulders. I groaned, squeezing and relaxing my snatch on his dick. A bonfire blazed inside me. It grew harder and harder to stay still on his dick. The fire demanded to be put out. A frustrated agony burned through my body.

Mark tugged on my nipples. My milk flowed. "You horny stallion!"

He grinned at me, rolling my nipples harder between his wet fingers. The tingles zapped down to my pussy. I clenched down hard on his dick, my hips twitching more. Sparks flew from my clit rubbing through his pubic hair.

I had to move. I had to enjoy my man.

"Fuck!" I gasped as my hips rose on his dick.

"Mare," he groaned as I slammed down on him, his fingers releasing my nipples.

My passion burned inside of me. I rode his dick as fast as I could. My plump breasts bounced and jiggled as I plunged up and down his cock. I needed to cum. I needed to soothe the fire burning inside me.

My snatch gripped him as I rose, making him groan, his chest muscles flexing beneath the rapture of my cunt's embrace. Then I slammed down on him hard, driving my clit into his pubic bone. His hands seized my hips, lifting me up, as aching to spill his seed in me as I was to feel that moment.

"My horny stallion!" I whimpered, riding him faster and faster, my tits slapping together. My labia savored the impact as I slammed down his dick over and over. "Flood me with your cum! Extinguish my flames! Oh, Mark! Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

I ground my clit into his groin by twisting my hips. As I moved, dancing on his shaft, his cock rubbed harder on different spots inside my pussy. It felt so amazing, making me shiver and groan. My moans sang through our bedroom.

I threw my head back, my auburn hair flying about my head as I fucked my husband. His hands found my ass, squeezing the plump flesh. He pulled me up and slammed me back down on his cock. Over and over, churning me up inside, driving me wild.

"Fuck, Mare!" he groaned. "Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it! Cum in me!" My voice sounded shrill as I neared my limits. My orgasm threatened to consume me.

He grunted, an animalistic growl, and then his cock flooded my pussy. Hot cum spurted into me. My husband's cum. I whimpered as I impaled myself fully on his dick. I took him to the hilt in me, his spunk filling me, making me feel so womanly.

"Mark!" I howled.

My orgasm exploded in my pussy and surged through my flesh.

Agonizing pleasure surged through every nerve in my body and tensed every muscle. I spasmed on his dick as the hurricane-force winds of ecstasy surged through my body. Stars burst across my vision as my cunt milked his cock. I gave him the most intimate of massages, my snatch writhing and convulsing about his girth.

My pussy loved my husband's cock, rewarding me with gale after gale of rapture. Ecstasy buffeted my mind. I loved it. I howled out in rapture, Mark's fingers digging into my rump. I shuddered atop him, panting, sucking in deep breaths, loving this moment.

Then my orgasm peaked. With a groan, I collapsed onto his oily chest. I gasped and writhed atop him, my nipples throbbing through me. His strong arms wrapped around me as I continued to quake. I felt so safe in his arms.

So loved.

My body shook more, his arms tightening around me.

"Everything's going to be fine," he whispered.

I realized I was crying. The fear I had bottled up had released with my orgasm. I trembled atop my husband, pouring out my emotions as he rocked me. I clung to him, the tears falling down on his face as he stroked my back.

He soothed me. His every touch reassured me. We were powerful together. We had our magic, our servants, our armies. We controlled most of the world. Lilith couldn't do anything against us. Not with everything we had at our disposal.

If she tried, we'd kill her.

I kissed my husband, savoring his love, and knew everything would be fine. Tomorrow would go off without a hitch.

The demon revealed her treachery.

--The Gospel of April 50:1

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 - Mark Glassner - I-5 at Seattle City Limits

"Do you know how to use that dagger?" I asked Jessica as she fingered the hilt of the knife strapped to her waist. She had been nervously stroking it the entire limo ride to the meeting.

"Not really," Jessica admitted. "But, just in case something happens..."

"It makes you feel a little safer?" I asked her.

"Yes, Master," she smiled, her caramel face lighting up as she stared at me.

"If anything does happen, just run for the guards," Mary said to our slut. "Don't try to fight if you can help it. Lilith's daughters, well, they are very dangerous."

"Of course, Mistress," Jessica answered. Her smile faded as she fidgeted in her seat.

I felt the same way. My own stomach was a pit of vipers, writhing and wiggling. I couldn't eat breakfast. I only had a cup of coffee which just made my stomach feel worse. Mary leaned against me, her body occasionally trembling, even if her face appeared serene. She had grown adept at hiding her true feelings from the public over the last year. You would have to know her intimately to see the signs of her tension.

I gave her shoulders a squeeze and kissed her forehead.

"We're here, sir," Leah reported, slowing the limo to a graceful halt.

"Be safe, Master," Violet said. Her pigtails swayed about her shoulders as she gave me a hug.

"Don't let that cunt do anything to you," Alison said, looking fierce in her tactical gear, Desiree sitting beside her.

All our the sluts were in the limo along with Sam and Candy. The diamond-tipped rods rested in a duffel bag, ready to be used to bind Lucifer if the worst should happen. Hopefully, it never would. For the good of the world, Lilith had to live.

I slid out of the limo into the weak, November sun. The wan light did nothing to take the bite out of the cold air. My breath frosted before me as I helped my wife out of the limo. She nodded her head and adjusted her body armor, stitched with protective spells. Soldiers were spilling out around us from their Strykers, setting up their defensive positions. Down the highway, the mass of Lilith's daughters did the exact same thing.

I summoned the ghosts. Energy poured out of me, feeding the bodies they would inhabit. It had been a while since I had needed them. With the Patriots wiped out, and Lilith staying in Seattle, I hadn't needed them since last May on the airplane. Twenty-two figures formed out of the mists: beautiful women in shining, silver armor and holding silvered weapons.

I blinked; twenty-two. I recounted.

Twenty-two? There should only be twenty-one.

No one had died in the last six months, so where did the twenty-second ghost come from? I stared at them, trying to figure out which one was the new spirit. Then I saw a ghost with sandy-blonde hair pinned up in a tight bun.

"Noel?" Mary gasped at the sight of our former slut

"Hi," she said, standing stiff, a silver handgun gripped in her hand.

"I freed you." I felt flustered, off-balanced. I released her from the Zimmah bond over a year and a half ago. We hadn't seen her since. She shouldn't still be bound to me. I was flabbergasted, my tongue suddenly so heavy as I struggled to think of something to say.

"I'm not bound to you," Noel answered as she glanced at Chasity. "I didn't want to be apart from my loved one."

"Huh?" I asked, glancing at Mary in confusion. "You seemed pretty set against us, Noel. I thought you hated us."

"I do hate you," Noel answered frostily. "You're not the loved one I'm talking about."

"It's Chasity," Mary explained, rolling her eyes. "Didn't you see them together those last few days before the nuns' attack?" Chasity had died when the nuns attacked us over a year ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since that sad day.

"Really?"

"God, you're blind," my wife said with a fond smile. "How did you die, Noel?"

"I made a mistake," she answered. A look of self-hatred flashed across her face. "More than one, actually."

"Well... I..." My voice trailed off. What did you say to the dead? I cleared my throat. "Be ready. If anything goes wrong, I want you racing across the bridge. All of you."

"You can count on us, Master," Chasity assured.

"It's time, Master," Jessica said, her hand gripping the dagger hilt.

Mary gripped Jessica's shoulder, giving her a tight smile. "It'll be okay."

Jessica released the dagger, her caramel cheeks darkening with a blush. "Of course, Mistress. Shall we?"

Mary took my arm, her other hand resting on the hilt of her own bronze dagger. Just in case.

We walked in silence down the concrete roadway, Jessica trailing behind us. Tufts of grass grew through cracks in the concrete. No one had used this stretch of I-5 in a year, and it was starting to show deterioration. Bands of dirt caked the road in undulating ripples; erosion washed down the highway by the heavy rains.

Farther down the highway, Lilith strode forward, trailed by Lana and Chantelle. Both women had daggers tucked into their belts and dressed in utilitarian clothes: loose-fitting pants for mobility, long-sleeved shirts, and bulletproof vests no doubt looted from Seattle P.D.

My skin tightened the closer we got, ratcheted by the tension crackling through the air. Waves of cold flooded through my veins, pumped by the increasing beat of my heart. I recognized the signs of adrenaline coursing through me, preparing me for battle. It sharpened my senses and readied my muscles to spring into action.

I flexed my fingers. One word, and my sword would appear. A second, my armor.

We stopped ten feet from the demoness. Lilith looked like a pin-up model with her huge breasts and voluminous, silver hair that possessed the tousled, just-been-fucked look. She wore a sheer, red dress, translucent enough for her naked flesh to bleed through where it pressed against the fabric. A smile glinted on her lips, dangerous, victorious.

My stomach sank.

I pushed Mary behind me, my eyes scanning for the trap.

"Mark?" Mary said, voice soft, tight.

"I've waited so long for this day," Lilith purred, violet eyes shining in triumph.

My heart screamed in my chest. Everything felt wrong. My eyes flickered around the roadway. Where was the trap? Was it a Haja cloaking itself about to fire a beam--

"No, Mark!" Mary shouted, then screamed in pain.

I whirled about. My heart stopped.

Mary was falling to the ground, her shoulder bloody. Jessica stood over Mary, clutching a dagger. The black blade, crudely made, glistened red with my wife's blood. White-hot anger flashed through my mind, a rage that wiped all thoughts. Jessica roared inhumanly as her dagger thrust at me.

I spoke a word, summoning my sword. It appeared in a flash of heavenly light, my arm already swinging at my treacherous slut. The celestial gold blade, glinting in the sunlight, arched right for Jessica's neck. I didn't care that it wouldn't hurt her--she was human, and the blade only hurt the supernatural.

She attacked my wife! The traitorous bitch would pay!

The golden blade cut through Jessica from shoulder to hip.

She fell apart in a spray of crimson blood as two meaty chunks of flesh hit the ground and changed. Her caramel skin rippled, turning a pasty white; her body shrank, becoming emaciated; her lustrous, honey-brown hair bleached pale. I stared down at her, a single thought knifing through the fury: she was one of Lilith's daughters.

One of Lilith's daughters stabbed my wife!

"Lilith!" I roared, rounding on the fucking demoness. My vision shrank to pinpricks, focused on the bitch. I drew back my sword, my entire body tensing for the attack.

"I..." The fucking bitch blanched in fear as she spluttered. She took a step back and cast her gaze wildly around. Then she glanced at Lana and Chantelle standing behind her. "Defend me!"

"For my Goddess!" blonde Lana yelled, drawing a bronze dagger and charging me as Lilith fled past her.

I slammed my sword into Lana's face. The blade didn't bite into her flesh; she was human. Instead, the force of the blow broke her nose. She slammed down into the concrete. She groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head as she lay in a daze.

Hissing in anger, Chantelle danced towards me and stabbed with her dagger. I swung. She nimbly dodged. She moved with grace as she spun away from my every thrust and swing. I hacked at her, snorting like a bull.

I growled in rage. Every second I wasted on her, Lilith came closer to her army. So I left myself open. Chantelle took the bait. Her arm shot forward, dagger gleaming. I caught her wrist in my left hand, broke it, and slammed the hilt of my sword into her face.

She fell senseless beside her wife.

Lilith was halfway back to her army, struggling to run in her dress and heels. I could overtake her. I was as fast as any Olympic sprinter. She would be dead before she reached her monsters. A warning voice whispered in my mind. What about the world? What about Lucifer?

I hesitated.

"Mark," Mary gasped weakly.

I turned to my wife. She was still on the ground. The cut didn't seem that bad, so why was she still down? I glanced at that dagger; it looked evil. I knelt down and grasped my wife's hand, thinking she must be poisoned. I concentrated on her being healed.

"Tsariy!" I cried out. The scarlet light engulfed her.

"It hurts, Mark," she cried out as the light faded.

The wound on her shoulder was still there, ragged and torn. The shock of seeing it punched me in the gut. The spell had failed to heal her? Why? How?

"Oh, God, Mark!" she screamed.

I must have cast the spell wrong. I could heal her. I could save my wife.

"Tsariy!"

Her blood flowed dark from the wound, pouring down her arm. My tears seared my cheek, panic nibbling at my senses.

"Why didn't it work?" I shouted into the air.

No answer.

"M-Mark," she groaned, sounding so tortured, her face pale, twisting.

I kissed her hand. "Hang in there, Mare!"

Around me, the ghosts surged past me to meet Lilith's attacking daughters with swords and guns. I was vaguely aware of the Legion opening fire down the highway. I didn't care. My wife was dying, and I couldn't help her. I tried a third time, and a fourth time, to heal her.

She couldn't die!

She couldn't die!

Please, please, please!

I tried a fifth time.

She grew weaker. Her eyes closed. Her breath became shallow.

"Don't die, Mare! Stay with me!"

"What's wrong?" Sam shouted.

I looked up, hope surging through me. Sam raced towards me. She'd know what to do. "The dagger," I cried, struggling to speak coherently, emotion choking my tongue. Cold fear washed through my body, icy waves that threatened to immobilize me. "She's dying! Save her, Sam!"

The Asian woman bent down and examined the dagger. She furrowed her dusky-olive brow. "There's a maker mark on the tang." She touched something stamped into the blade right above the hilt. "It looks like the Mark of Qayin. See the circle and the diagonal slash across it." She held up the hilt, holding it like it were a venomous snake that could twist around and bite her at any moment. "It is one of the three Mispach daggers. She'll be dead in minutes. I'm sorry." Tears beaded in her slanted eyes. "There's nothing I can do."

"There has to be a cure!" She couldn't die. Not my Mary. She was my world. Nothing would matter without her. She had to live. "Please, Sam!" I hugged my wife's dying body to my chest, felt her weak breath on my cheek. "I can't lose her!"

"You have to find the person to whom the dagger's bound and spill their lifeblood on Mary. It wasn't this... thing." She motioned to the quivering remains of the creature who had posed as Jessica. "I can see her blood has splashed on Mary."

"Lilith?"

"Probably," Sam answered.

I had missed the chance to catch her. Now I would never cut through all of her daughters in time. I could feel the bit of Mary tied to my soul fading away. Her flame guttered out; I was about to lose my wife. Her breathing slowed. Her heart flagged.

She was about to die.

"Please!" I shouted at my wife, clenching her tight to me. "Don't go, Mare!"

Only a tiny tongue of flame still burned in her, consuming the last of her life's wick. She would burn out unless I could fuel her flame. I reached into my soul and touched the part of me that was tied to Mary's, the deep connection between us. Spells, wishes, and love bound us. We shared Molech's power. We shared our dreams.

We could share our life force.

I forced my energy through our bond. The flame burned brighter, consuming my wick.

I groaned, my head swimming. Dizzy waves of darkness washed across her. Mary devoured my life force, her flame burning fast. Her heart beat stronger. Her breathing grew deeper. I had bought her a little time, but not much. Maybe ten minutes before my life ran out and we both died.

Exhaustion swept through me as she consumed my life. I felt like I had run all day. I didn't have the strength to kill Lilith and fuel my wife's life. So I tapped all those other chains bound to my soul: the sluts, Mary's family, the maids, the hundreds of bodyguards. Their energy flowed into me, and my energy flowed into Mary.

Sam gasped, her eyes widening. "Y-you're feeding all of our lives into her?"

"My wife lives or we all die!" I growled. "I won't let her perish."

Sam sat back on her hunches, hugging herself, her face going pale.

"Mark," Mary whispered, drawing my attention to her. I watched her eyes flutter open. A tremulous smile spread on her lips. "I was falling into darkness. And then your hand reached out and pulled me back into the light."

"It'll be okay," I told her. "I have to do something."

"Okay," she whispered, her eyes closing. "I'm so tired. I'll just rest here."

"I love you, Mare."

She smiled before her face slackened into unconsciousness again.

I looked around, thinking. I had to get to Lilith. I spotted a Legion soldier nearby, antenna thrusting up from his dark backpack. "You, radio General Brooks. Order him to send in the troops! Attack Seattle! Butcher Lilith's daughters!"

"Sir!" the soldier said. She flashed me a salute and pulled the phone-like receiver of her radio off her backpack. "Crusader Six, Crusader Six, this is Emperor Prime, over."

I balled my fists as I rose, turning to face Seattle. I looked past the fighting raging across the highway to the skyline beyond. Lilith would die today. I didn't care that I would free Lucifer and damn the world to darkness and pain. My love was dying, and I did not give one shit about what it would cost to save her life.

"Get ready with the backup plan," I barked at Sam. "I'll be back with Lilith."

She looked up at me, her eyes wide. Then she nodded and stood on shaky legs.

I drew my bronze dagger, thrust it into the fabric of reality, and carved my portal to the Shadows. Lilith was a coward. She would flee back to her lair: Seattle's city hall.

The demon retreated to her foul nest and unleashed all her children to escape our Living God's righteous blade!

--The Gospel of April 50:8

Fiona Cavanagh - Seattle, WA

The glass doors at the entrance of city hall rattled as explosions rocked Seattle. I peered out of them, staring at the black smoke billowing between the skyscrapers. Jets screamed overhead, dropping bombs on the masses of Lilith's daughters forming up down the street before the government building. I swallowed, fear churning my stomach into an acidic froth, the bile creeping up my throat. Something had gone wrong at the meeting.

Mark was invading Seattle.

I glanced at my wife, Thamina, at her stomach. She was two months pregnant with our daughter and death came for Seattle. My hands grew cold, clammy. Mark had unleashed his entire military might on Lilith. We would die with her.

So I had to get us out of here.

Lilith's limo screeched to a halt before city hall. The goddess burst out of it, breathless. Sweat soaked her clinging red dress, her face flushed. She raced to the doors like she ran a marathon. Her violet eyes were wild as she strode up the steps of city hall, her silver hair frazzled. She didn't look like a goddess at all, but a frightened woman.

Why did I ever follow this pathetic creature?

"Your damned daughter failed, Fiona!" she snarled at me after bursting through the doors. "All she had to do was stab Mark, and the stupid cunt couldn't even do that!"

"What?" I asked in confusion. Ziki, my monstrous daughter, was masquerading as Jessica, spying on Mark. Why did she try to stab him? "Is she okay?"

Lilith waved her hand dismissively. "She was always on a suicide mission."

Heat vanished from my body. A cold rage replaced the fear seething in my stomach. Lilith sent my daughter to her death! I clenched my fist, trying to control the anger inside me. I wanted to strike the bitch down. My beautiful Ziki could become anything, take any form. She just wanted to please her mother, and Lilith didn't give a shit about her?​