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“Get the fuck away from my wife.”
The four women turned as one, their expressions ranging from haughty defiance to amusement.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up to the party. You always were one to take your sweet time, weren’t you, Priest?”
“Who the bloody hell are you?”
Before my eyes, she transformed into the visage of Headmistress le Blanc, then changed back to the formidable beauty she’d been. “Oh, can’t you see it? I think she’s my spitting image.” That’s when I noticed the resemblance.
“You... you’re Sunday’s mother.”
She curtseyed. “War. I’d say it’s nice to make your acquaintance, but the things you’ve done to my daughter...” she tutted, “they’re enough to make a priest blush. Oh, wait.”
Sunday screamed, the tortured sound cutting through my heart as surely as this sword could.
“Stand aside, or I will make you.”
She laughed. “You and what army? If you hadn’t noticed, you’re a bit outnumbered.”
I raised the sword, flames bursting to life, searing the hairs on my arm. I didn’t care. I’d endure the pain to save my family.
“And that’s our cue,” the redheaded one said, stepping to the side.
“Wait, what?” War shot a narrow-eyed glare her way. “You’re not going to stick around and help me?”
“It’s not really our party, Minerva. If you win, great. But if you fail, we get our turns. So... best of luck to you.”
“Does that go for all of you?”
The one dressed all in black gave her a simpering smile. “I’m not prepared to go up against the Sword of Michael. I just had my nails done.”
“You faithless bitches.”
“Takes one to know one, sis. Youwerethe one running around free for the last twenty-five years while we were left to rot in hell. It’s our turn to cause a little chaos, don’t you think? But do call us if you manage to end the world.”
Hope flickered to life. They were abandoning her. All I needed was to smite this bitch, and I could stop everything. I could earn my soul, keep my wife, and if I was lucky, my child.
Lifting the sword, I blurred down the aisle, only to be sent flying back by one powerful swing of her arm. I crashed into the wall hard enough my teeth rattled at the impact, the weapon falling from my hand.
“You didn’t really expect that to work, did you? I’m War, darling. I literally wrote the book on this.”
“Then why did it take you so bloody long to bring on your fecking Apocalypse? Isn’t that your entire job?”
“What? You think this is our first attempt? There have been thousands. But there are rules. I can only do so much. It is the mortals who must take the bait. You want to know why I failed? I think the question you should be asking yourself is why didyou? I’ve been stopped countless times until now.So tell me, Priest. Who’s the one falling down on the job? Me, the one fulfilling my purpose, or you, the one letting it happen?”
I stumbled to my feet, reaching for the hilt of the sword. Sunday was going to die if I didn’t end this now.
“Oh, I think not.” The blade flew to her outstretched hand, and my heart sank. I’d failed.
One well-placed strike was all it took as she ran me through, pinning me to the door. Then she twisted the blade for good measure, sending pure agony ripping through me.
“That should hold you. Be a good boy and stay.”
Blood dribbled out of my mouth as she patted me on the head before turning on her heels and flouncing up to the altar where Sunday was struggling.
“I can’t do this,” Sunday chanted. “I can’t. It’s going to kill me. I can’t. Please stop it.”
“You can and you will. That’s the entire reason you were born, Sunday. And as your simple priest just reminded me, we all have our parts to play. So stop your fucking crying and push!”
