He will come for you.
He will tremble the nations.
He will bring upon the end.
He is the great deceiver.
He is close now.
Pray as you do.
He will come for you.

“She’s been saying that for hours now,” the sergeant said, turning his head in the candlelight.

Seris lowered her head and poked at her small tusks that protruded from her lower jaw. It was something she did when she was nervous, like how one would shake their foot or chew at their nails. I looked at Lorien, seeing her stone-faced expression, probably still processing the words. The agents in the room all seemed unsettled by the poetic nature of the passage—and even more unsettled by the woman on the bed who was saying it.

Her eyes were severely burned and where charred flesh should have been, there was porcelain glass with cracks of gold. Her eyes were glazed balls that shined like pearls, and from them, tears of liquid gold ran down her face.

When the Vital had informed us of a situation occurring, they mentioned that it was unclear whether this was a matter for the Roth or for the Hill. There was a spotting of an angel over Jackson, but we had figured it would have gone south to New Orleans, and there, we were already set up. This was something we didn’t expect. At first, the case sounded like one for our brothers in the Roth, but seeing the injuries of the woman, it was painfully clear that this was our business.

The woman began to cry out the poem again, which was enough to make the sergeant stand up and leave the room. Seris followed, as did the Roth Knight. I remained in my seat a little longer, feeling a cold chill run down my back as the woman turned her head and looked straight at me as she spoke the last line of the poem.

When I left the room, I joined the others in the dining area next to the kitchen. On the dining table were still plates full of food. When the event occurred, it had happened during dinner time, and from the looks of it, none of them were able to even get a bite in. Chicken, greens, mashed potatoes, cornbread—it was all cold, and flies were continuing their feast.

“Zariel. Are you okay?” Lorien asked, watching me stumble to my seat across from Seris and the sergeant.
I nodded and took a sip of water from one of the cups I had left earlier.

“So you see, the mother—her injuries were clearly from a Divine being, but crosses and religious iconography have been either taken down or mocked, like the crucifixes you saw in the hallway on your way inside,” the sergeant said, pointing to the hallway.

“You were right to call both of us, but you’re correct to assume that this is an issue for my brother and sister of the Hill. Be it as it may, I will stay here and assist you,” Lorien said, giving me a nod. I returned the gesture and scratched my head.

“Sergeant, you told us the daughter did all this? Killed the father and did that to the mother. Where’s the body of the father now?” Seris asked, standing from her seat to shake her nerves away.

“It’s in the library down the second hall. Two of my agents are there—they’ll let you pass.”
Seris looked at me, asking for permission to inspect the body without saying a word. I nodded to her and watched her walk out of the kitchen, leaving me, the Roth Knight, and the department sergeant alone.

“Sergeant, when your agents arrived, why did they wait so long to report the attack to the Covens?” Lorien asked.

The sergeant shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be late. When my men sent out that call three were already killed, and the two that were remaining had attempted to leave this house but were incapable of doing so. They explained that some magic had been preventing them from leaving. It was only when they didn’t return our attempts to contact them that we sent another squad to investigate.”

“What happened to your trapped men when the squad arrived?” I asked, looking at the untouched windows.

“They were released. Or so they made it seem. When the new team arrived, the two that were trapped in here walked right out.”

Lorien and I exchanged a glance.

“Where are the men now?” she asked.

“In the main APC, the one you parked next to when you got here.”

“I’ll be back,” she said, then made her way out of the kitchen.

I waited until I didn’t hear Lorien’s footsteps anymore to continue. I wanted to give the sergeant time to collect his thoughts. After a minute of silence, I spoke—eager to question him, but cautious, as I didn’t want to scare him more than he already seemed to be. Department agents were tough bastards, and we were happy to have them handle situations we weren’t able to get to. I had known a couple Coven prospects that had been recruited from the Department of Containment. They all showed much promise. This sergeant, though, was not one of those prospects. He had not seen the types of things that a Coven member would—was not exposed to the horrors that come with the Infernal and the Divine. This was his first exposure, and his fear, justified as it was, stuffed the entire room. He shook as he grabbed the water bottle that I passed to him. He removed the cap and pressed the bottle to his lips, then began to drink. I used that time to speak so that all he could do was listen and cool down.
“It’s clear that this was done by something with Divine power. Whether that be the angel we are looking for, or something else entirely, is yet to be concluded. What I need from you and your men now is to take the mother out of the house and contact the Hill. A team of my people are waiting in New Orleans. It shouldn’t take them too long to get here, seeing as they can mirror to Jackson and then drive from there. Keep the mother away from the rest of your men. If you need, place her in the back of my car—the black Buick parked at the bottom of the hill,” I said, pulling my keys from my pocket and handing them to him. “But you must follow my instructions. Do not listen to what she says, and if she recites anything more, you are to kill her without hesitation. Do you understand?” The sergeant hesitated before speaking, and I shook my head, then pulled the pistol from the holster below my left arm.

“No hesitating. Shoot her with this if anything happens. Do not trade your life or the lives of your men, Sergeant. That woman is already dead. Her soul has already left her body—she is simply a ward for whatever did this. Now you and your men need to clear out the house and stay ten feet away,” I said, sliding over the pistol.

He grabbed the gun carefully and inspected it for a moment, seeing that on the hammer was a rune marking and along the slide was a phrase written in Latin. He looked up at me, curious as to what it said.

“Lux tua est mendacium. Your light is a lie,” I translated, then made my way to Seris.