Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 438

“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 the hilt 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.

“If anything does happen, just run for the guards,” Mary told her. “Don't try to fight if you can help it. Lilith's daughters, well, they are very dangerous.”

“Of course, Mistress,” Jessica sighed, fidgeting with nervous energy.

My own stomach was a pit of vipers, writhing and wiggling. I couldn't eat breakfast, and only had a cup of coffee, which just made my stomach feel worse. Mary leaned against me, her body trembling occasionally, even if her face seemed serene. She had grown adept at hiding her true feelings from the public over the last year, and 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 down.

“Be safe, Master,” Violet said, hugging me before I got out of the limo. All the sluts were in there, plus Sam and Candy, the diamond-tipped rods ready to be used to bind Lucifer if the worst should happen.

I slid out of the limo into the weak, November sun; it barely did anything to take the bite out of the cold air. I helped my wife out of the limo, and she 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, I could see the mass of Lilith's daughters doing the exact same thing.

I summoned the ghosts; it had been a while since I had needed them. The Patriots were wiped out, and Lilith had been quiet, so 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. 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 whom the new spirit was. Then I saw a ghost with sandy-blonde hair pinned up in a tight bun.

“Noel?” Mary gasped.

“Hi,” she said, a little stiffly.

“I freed you.” I felt flustered, unsorted. Seeing Noel dead and bound to me was so unexpected that I didn't know what else to say.

“I'm not bound to you,” Noel answered, then glanced at Chasity. “I didn't want to be apart from my loved ones.”

“What?” I asked, glancing at Mary. “You seemed pretty set against us.”

“Not you,” Noel answered frostily.

“It's Chasity,” Mary explained, rolling her eyes. “Didn't you see them together those last few days before, um, the attack.”

“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.”

“You can count on us, Master,” Chasity assured.

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

Mary gripped her shoulder. “It'll be okay.”

She released the dagger, blushing slightly. “Of course, Mistress. Shall we.”

Mary took my arm, her other hand resting on the bronze dagger. Just in case. We walked in silence down the concrete roadway, Jessica trailing behind us. Tufts of grass grew from cracks in the concrete; no-one had used this stretch of I-5 in a year, and it was starting to show some deterioration. Bands of dirt were caked on the road in undulating ripples; erosion washed down the highway by the heavy rains.

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.

We stopped ten feet from the demoness. Lilith looked like a pin-up model, with her huge breasts and voluminous, silver hair that looked tousled, like she had just been fucked. She wore a sheer, red dress, translucent enough to see her flesh 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.

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

My heart was pounding; this was very wrong. My eyes flickered about. 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 her, clutching a dagger. The black blade, crudely made, was 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 summoned my sword, and swung at my treacherous slut. The Celestial Gold blade glinted in the sunlight, arching 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, and the traitorous bitch was going to pay!

The golden blade cut through Jessica from shoulder to hip. She fell apart and changed. Her caramel skin rippled, turning a pasty white; her body shrank, becoming emaciated; her lustrous, honey-brown hair bleached pale. She was one of Lilith's daughters! One of Lilith's daughters stabbed my wife!

“Lilith!” I roared, rounding on the fucking demoness.

“I...” The fucking bitch blanched in fear, and took a step back. She looked wildly around, then glanced at Lana and Chantelle “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, she was human, but the force of the blow broke her nose, and slammed her body into the concrete. She groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head as she lay in a daze. Chantelle danced towards me, stabbing with her dagger. I swung, and she nimbly dodged. She moved with grace as she spun away from my every thrust and swing.

I growled in rage; every second I wasted on her, Lilith was getting closer to her army. I left myself open; Chantelle took the bait. Her arm shot forward, dagger gleaming. I caught her wrist, 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 blade; 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, and the scarlet light engulfed her.

“It hurts, Mark,” she cried out.

The wound on her shoulder was still there, the shock punching me in the gut. The spell had failed to heal her? Why? How?

“Oh, God, Mark!”

I must have done the spell wrong. I can heal her. I can save my wife. “Tsariy!” Her blood flowed dark from the wound; my tears were hot on my cheek. “Why didn't it work?” I shouted into the air. I kissed her hand. “Hang in there, Mare!”

Around me, the ghosts surged by, meeting Lilith's 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 can't die! She can't die! Please, please, please! I tried a fifth time; she grew weaker, her eyes closing; her breath shallowed.

“Don't die, Mare! Stay with me!”

“What's wrong?”

I looked up, hope surging through me. Sam was here; she'd know what to do. “The dagger,” I cried, struggling to speak coherently. “She's dying! Save her, Sam!”

The Asian woman bent down, looking at the dagger. “There's a maker mark on the tang. It looks like the Mark of Qayin. See the circle and the diagonal slash across it.” She held up the hilt, gingerly, pointing at where the blade met hilt. “It is one of the three Mispachs. She'll be dead in minutes. I'm sorry.” There were tears beading in her eyes.

“There has to be a cure!” She couldn't die. Not my Mary. She was my world. Nothing would matter without her. “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 whom the dagger's bound to, and spill their lifeblood on Mary,” Sam replied. “It wasn't this...thing.” She motioned to the creature that 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 was guttering out; I was going to lose my wife. Her breathing slowed; her heart flagged.

She was going to die.

“Please!” I shouted at her. “Don't go, Mare!”

Only a tiny tongue of flame still burned in her, consuming the last of her life's wick. She was going to burn out—unless I could fuel her flame. I reached into my soul, and touched that 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 life through our bond; the flame burned brighter, consuming my wick.

I groaned, my head swimming. Mary was quickly burning through my life-force. Her heart beat faster, and her breathing grew a little stronger. 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's candlewick. 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 inside me: the sluts, Mary's family, the maids, the hundreds of bodyguards. Their energy flowed into me, and my energy flowed into Mary.

“Mark,” Mary whispered, her eyes fluttering 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.”

“Shh, 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, then slipped into unconsciousness again.

“What did you do?” Sam asked. “I felt something. You're drawing on all of our life-forces?”

“We'll keep her alive until all our lives are exhausted,” I told her. I spotted a Legion radio operator. “You, radio General Brooks. Send in the troops! Butcher Lilith's daughters!”

I stood up. Lilith was going to die. I didn't care that I would free Lucifer and damn the world to darkness and pain. My love was dying, and I could not give one shit about what it would cost to save her life. “Get ready with the backup plan,” I told Sam. She paled and nodded. “I'll be back with Lilith.”

I drew my bronze dagger, and began to carve my portal. Lilith was a coward. She'd flee back to her lair—Seattle's City Hall.