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For a list of all the Devil’s Pact Chapters and other stories click here

This is a revised version of the story that I published on Smashword starting back in 2014. It is rewritten with much-added material. However, I did have to age up some of the characters so no one is underage in this version.

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Click here for Chapter 2.

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Death rained down on the Living God.

—The Gospel of April 36:3

Mark Glassner

The limo bounced around on Tacoma’s streets. The city had lost the war against potholes years ago, and the streets grew worse and worse every year. Leah must be doing nearly sixty as we raced away from the courthouse, and we were being thrown about in the back, Violet clinging to me.

“Hold on!” Leah shouted, braking hard, and then the limo made a sharp turn onto Sprague Avenue, pressing me against Desiree. Then we were racing south for Highway 16.

Violet kept sobbing into my chest. “Shh, it’ll be alright,” I told her, stroking her brown hair. Though I wish I could believe that.

The roar of the approaching helicopter sent fear through me, my stomach clenching. I looked up at the ceiling of the limo out of instinct. Then I craned my head, looking out the rear window, peering up at the sky. Violet buried her face into my chest at the sound.

“Shit, it’s in front of us!” Leah shouted.

I bent down to look out the front of the limo and saw streaks of yellow raining down from the sky.

Tracers fired from a helicopter.

The lead cop car exploded in sparks and careened off to the side of the road. The second cop car tried to swerve to dodge the attack. A torrent of bullets shredded its trunk. The tracers marched quickly towards us. It sounded like hail as the bullets struck the limo’s armor. The windshield splintered. Desiree was engulfed by blue light as her amulet deflected a bullet. The limo swerved suddenly to the left. Metal crunched. I was flung forward, my seatbelt digging into my chest and waist.

What the fuck just happened? My mind was fuzzy and I groaned in pain.

“We need to move!” someone shouted.

“Leah’s shot!” another person screamed.

“Shit!” Someone was shaking me. “Sir, we need to move!”

A Black woman’s face hovered in front of me, urgently speaking to me. It took me a moment to realize it was 51. I blinked, looking around. There were dents and holes in the roof of my armored limo. In the front seat, Leah lay slumped over the steering wheel, blood staining her back. The bodyguard in the passenger seat was struggling to open her door. 51 pulled out her folding knife and quickly cut my jammed seatbelt.

“Leah,” I shouted, climbing across the limo and grabbing her through the open barrier separating the back with the driving compartment. Blood pumped from a large hole blown through her back. I concentrated on her being healed, and whispered, “Tsariy.”

Energy flooded out of me. A wave of dizziness washed over my vision. Red light engulfed her body. She convulsed. I felt the energy sink into her, repairing shattered rips, perforated lungs, and ripped muscles. When the scarlet light faded, Leah sat upright, perfectly healed. Around her neck, the bronze amulet smoked, the protection spell overwhelmed by the helicopter’s mini-guns.

“We need to go, sir!” 51 shouted, grabbing me and pulling me out of the limo.

I stepped outside, blinking against the morning sun. We had crashed into a traffic light, the metal pole bent and fallen across the top of the limo. The hood was torn to pieces, and white smoke curled serpentine up into the air from the engine block. Metal scars and pockmarks littered the body of the limo where the armor had withstood the mini-gun’s fire. I looked for our escorts and saw the twisted remains of the four cop cars. The helicopter’s guns had shredded them into mangled mockeries of sedans.

Two bodyguards crawled out of the wreckage of their cars. Their amulets must have saved their lives, but the other six must be lying dead or dying in their vehicles. I started to run for the nearest wreck when 51 grabbed me and pointed up at the sky. Two small helicopters, both of which had large mini-guns slung on the sides by the landing skids, were banking around, and beyond them a Black Hawk swooped towards us.

“Leah, Violet, and Desiree, scatter!” I shouted. “They’re after me! You might get away!”

“Yes, Master!” Violet said, tears falling down her face as she ran away.

Desiree nodded at me then took off running after Violet.

“Go!” 51 shouted at me, pushing me away from the wreckage.

09 led us, running with her AR-15 out. She darted down an alley between two buildings. I followed, 51 and 32 on either side with 18 and 27, the two survivors from the escorts, bringing up the rear. The downdraft from the Black Hawk slammed into us and kicked up stinging dust as it banked overhead. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see two thick ropes drop out the side of the helicopter. The soldiers deployed.

“Shit!” 51 shouted. “Back, back!”

We turned and saw one of the small helicopters hovering at the mouth of the alley, cutting us off. There was a fence and someone’s yard to the right. I jumped, grabbing the top and easily hauling myself over. I was never more thankful for getting the Gift from Tiffany than right now. It gave me increased physical strength and stamina, and I was going to need every advantage I had to survive this.

51 followed me over the fence. Gunfire rang out. 32 was halfway over when a bullet bounced off her shielding. She made it over as the fence splintered from the gunfire. I could hear the remaining bodyguards returning fire in the alleyway, buying us time.

“Keep running!” 51 shouted.

I ran across the yard, glancing over my shoulder to see that damned small helicopter dogging our steps. The pilot must be radioing our position. I reached the opposite fence, jumping up and quickly scrambling over. As I lowered myself on the other side, I froze. 32 had stopped, turned, and knelt in the middle of the yard, aiming her AR-15 at the small helicopter. She carefully fired at it, rounds striking the windshield, glass cracking. The copter pivoted smoothly, lining up its guns at 32.

“Run!” I shouted as 51 scrambled over the fence. “Run, 32!”

She ignored me. The only time the bodyguards could ignore my orders was to protect my life.

Fire spat from the helicopter, clods of dirt exploded around 32. She kept calmly firing. Blue energy sprang up around her as the rounds struck her protective charms. For a second I thought she was going to be fine, then the torrent of fire overwhelmed the spell. The bullets ripped through her body.

But one of her rounds must have hit something important because the helicopter pitched to the side. The pilot inside struggled with the yoke. The copter drifted closer and closer to a tree. It tore through branches as the blades dipped into the canopy. And then there was a woody thunk and a loud, splintering sound. The rotor blades disintegrated, throwing debris everywhere. The chopper spun in the air and slammed into a shed with a satisfying crunch of metal.

I grabbed the fence and started to climb back over it. If I reached 32 before she died, I could heal her.

“She’s dead, sir,” 51 said as she grabbed my arm. “You’re not. We have to go!”

I cursed and let go of the fence. “Fine.”

We were out on a side-street and we could hear booted feet approaching. We cut diagonally across the street, racing for a small, brown house with a mossy roof. There were several cracking pops from behind us.

Everything around me went blue.

“Fuck!”

My amulet had just stopped a bullet. Adrenaline was screaming through my veins. There were more gunshots. Shots whizzed past and blue erupted around me a second time, a third time. My shoulders writhed each time.

“Shit, the car!” I shouted, pointing at the beat up, gray Plymouth with red primer staining the hood. “We need cover. The amulets won’t take much more gunfire!”

51 nodded, changing the direction she ran.

We dived behind the Plymouth as gunfire pounded against the car. Glass shattered and metal pinged with every bullet strike. My heart hammered. I risked a glance around the car and saw the soldiers at the corner. Several were firing at us while others dashed across the street. Fire and maneuver, I think it was called.

51 shot back with her 9mm service pistol. The soldiers hit the dirt and returned fire. Her amulet deflected two rounds.

I didn’t see an escape. There was no cover for twenty or more feet, and there were just too many soldiers. I closed my eyes, concentrated and sent: Mary, I love you. I don’t think I’m getting out of this one.

No! I can’t lose you, Mark!

I swallowed. There was only one hope. Tiffany said the Gift made Monks into fighters, that their powers were combat oriented. I was as physically strong as a man could be. I possessed swift reflexes. If I charged them, maybe somehow I could defeat them. The amulet might sustain a few more shots.

“Stay in cover, 51,” I ordered.

She gave me a sharp look. “Sir?”

“Only chance we have,” I said as I readied myself.

I took a deep breath. My muscles all tensed, ready. Adrenaline pumped through me. I could do this. I had powers. With a roar, I burst out from the car and ran as fast as I possibly could. As fast as any Olympic sprinter. The distance between me and the soldiers disappeared rapidly.

The soldiers were startled by my sudden charge, but their training took over. They opened fire. The world turned blue about me as the amulet deflected another shot. And then I was on the first soldier. He rose, bracing himself as I slammed into him. He fell back hard. I nearly lost my balance and fell with him.

But I didn’t.

A second soldier leaped at me. He grabbed me by the waist, my suit jacket tearing as we grappled. I was stronger than the soldier, more agile, but I lacked any training. I didn’t know how to fight. The soldier did.

I pushed him off of me and took a clumsy swing at his face. He easily grabbed my arm, did something with his hip, and I then was flipping over him and falling on my back. I grunted, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The soldier pulled out his knife. Before I could react, it was pressed against my throat.

Cold. Sharp. My artery pulsed against it.

I froze.

* * *

Violet Matheson

Master ordered me to run. I did.

I didn’t want to run. I wanted to stay with him, even if it meant I might die. He was my Master. I loved him. But his commands had to be obeyed. My body reacted even before I realized it. I ran as hard as I could.

I looked one last time at Master, drinking in his form. Then he was gone, vanishing down into the alley, the soldiers giving chase. “Please, be safe, Master. Be safe.”

My heart thudded in terror. Tears fell down my cheeks. Behind me, gunfire erupted. I shrieked. “Please be okay, Master. Please!”

I pumped my legs as hard as I could, my lungs burning with exertion. I had never run so hard, so fast, in my life. I gasped for breath. Everything burned. I pushed through it, forcing myself to keep going.

But I couldn’t keep it up. After running six blocks my legs felt like solid lead and my sides ached. I just had to stop. I bent over, grabbing my knees while I tried to catch my breath. Sweat poured off my forehead, stinging my eyes. I wiped it away with the back of my hand.

“We have to keep moving, Violet!” Desiree panted. I jumped, glancing behind me. I didn’t even realize that my sister-slut had been running with me. “They’re coming!”

I glanced behind me and saw soldiers in brown camo running down the street. They were still two blocks away but covering the distance between us fast. We were in a residential neighborhood. Sixty- or seventy-year old houses, most looking rundown, crowded the street while the residents stood on their porches, watching both us and the soldiers in confused amusement.

“Popo’s coming for you, White girls,” a Black woman yelled from her porch. “Get ’em!”

“There!” Desiree pointed at a barely-paved alleyway and took off sprinting.

Fear gave me a second wind, and I chased after her. She crashed through a gate in a chain-link fence, the metal rattling. I was right on her tail. We ran down the side of a house and came out on the next street up. There was a loud, crashing sound of metal splintering wood off in the distance where Master ran.

Stay safe, Master, I prayed. Please stay safe!

We cut across the street towards a faded-yellow house with a white picket fence around it. We ran through the gate, the paint peeling, exposing grayish wood. I panted as we ran down the side of the house into the backyard. My sides were killing me, and I felt like throwing up. My thin top was wet with sweat, sticking to my boobs.

Desiree marched up to a clothesline and ripped down a dress.

“We need to change,” Desiree panted, her nut-brown skin flushed with exertion. “We stand out too much dressed like this.”

I flushed. The tube-top I was wearing was so tight, it was practically a second skin, and my sweat made the red material slightly transparent exposing my nipples and areolas completely. I took the dress from Desiree and pulled it over my head. It was too big for me, the skirt fell down way past my knees. It was so loose and baggy I felt like I wore a tent. It was so unlike the tight clothes I had grown used to wearing since I met Master.

There was a crashing sound, and I turned to see two soldiers walking down the side of the house, aiming their big rifles. Desiree froze for a moment, a second dress in her hand. She glanced once at me, smiled, then took off running towards the other side of the house, shouting loudly, her exposed tits bouncing. The soldiers cursed and chased after her, leaving me frozen in the backyard.

They must have thought I lived here.

“You need to move, Violet,” I hissed at myself as I stood rooted in place, fear gripping my entire body. “She drew them off so you could escape. So keep moving! Find someplace to hide.”

My head whipped back and forth, searching for anything. There was a back gate. I ran through it into another alley. I scanned it, trying to regain my breath. I heard booted footsteps and ducked behind an olive-green, plastic trash can, trembling against it. I curled up into a ball, sobbing silently. My muscles were cramping, and I started to shake.

This could not be happening.

This was worse than when the SWAT team attacked us last June. I just wanted to stay where I was, hiding behind the trash can. I didn’t ever want to leave. I didn’t care that it smelled bad, or that the gravel was sharp and poked my side. It was safe. I was safe.

“Save me, Master,” I whispered, clutching at the choker about my neck. “Please come save me, Master.”

Gravel crunched. I flinched. Someone was approaching.

I curled up as tight as I could, taking only the shallowest of breaths. My heart was hammering loudly in my chest. They would hear my heart thundering away, I realized. It was so loud. Fresh terror surged through me, driving my heart to beat louder and louder. Please stop beating so loudly. But my heart ignored me and kept hammering away.

The footsteps drew closer. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see what was coming. More gravel scraped and crunched as they drew closer. The soldiers were almost to my hiding spot. I would be captured. My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to burst right out of my chest. The crunching footsteps were right next to me. I was found. They had caught me. I tensed, waiting for the blow to be struck, the bullet to be fired.

Instead, it was the lightest of touch.

Cautiously, I cracked my eyes open to see a young woman smiling down at me with warm, blue eyes and a friendly smile. She held out her hand and relief flooded through me. I wasn’t caught. I hesitantly uncurled, grasped her hand, and she gently helped me to my feet. I hugged her gratefully, tears running down my face.

I wasn’t caught.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whispered over and over.

She just held me for a moment, not answering, then led me into her house.

* * *

Mary Glassner

I’m captured, Mare, Mark sent me. Keep going. The Nextels are going to be compromised now. Keep going. Be safe! I love you.

“No, no, no!” I groaned. This couldn’t be happening. I’ll save you, somehow! I thought back. We’re racing to the airport. Just hang in there. I love you!

“47,” I said, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “Mark is captured. The Nextels are compromised.”

“I understand, ma’am,” 47 replied. Her hand shook as she picked up her Nextel. “47 to all units, communications no longer secure. I repeat, communications not secure.”

Then she tossed her Nextel out the window as we raced down the freeway.

Mark was captured. My mom wrapped her arms around me, holding me to her. Suddenly, all my emotions were pouring out of me as I sobbed into her breast. She stroked my hair and rocked me gently, just like she did when I was a child.

“Oh, Mom, what am I going to do?” I cried.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “We will figure it out.”

In thirty minutes, we reached Boeing field. I sobbed the entire way. We passed through the security gates and raced to the hangar. Our flight crew was waiting. Once we bought this plane, we moved our pilots, Joslyn and Lydia, here just in case we had to flee to our bolthole.

Lydia was waiting outside for us. “Miss,” she greeted, her face pale with fright. Like all our close employees, Joslyn and Lydia were bound to Mark with the Zimmah ritual. “What is going on?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but more tears leaked out of my eyes. I couldn’t bring myself to say what happened. Mark was captured. What was I going to do? I just climbed on board the plane and sat down in First Class, pressing my face to the cold window.

I love you, Mark, I thought to him. Stay strong! I will find a way to save you. I just wished I believed myself.

Love you, Mark sent back. I could feel his fear.

Everyone else was boarding. Mark’s mom Sandy squeezed my shoulder before she found a seat next to Betty, her girlfriend. My dad and mom sat next to each other. Mom was still naked from our lovemaking. Hell, I was too. There hadn’t been time to get dressed. All I had on was my wedding ring, my locket, and my protective amulet.

“It’ll be all right,” Missy, my younger sister, promised. She grabbed my hand, squeezed it, and kissed me on the forehead. Then she sat down next to her boyfriend Damien, who looked so young, his face so pale.

Mark’s sister Antsy and her girlfriend Via were the last of our family to board. Only Shannon and her fiance were missing. But they were in Chicago attending a conference for George’s job. The sluts boarded next. Lillian sat next to me, her arm going around my shoulder.

“It will be okay, Mistress,” she whispered. I wished I could believe her.

We waited for Squad E to arrive. They managed to get clear of Thun Field ahead of those soldiers and arrived ten minutes after we did, piling into the plane. Lydia closed and sealed the plane’s door. Then she sat down in the cockpit, its door left open. I could see inside as the pilots turned knobs and pressed buttons.

The plane lurched backward, and then we were taxiing to the runway. We had to wait for other planes to take off before our turn. My stomach twisted, fearing that any moment the military would show up. When the engines revved and roared louder and louder as the pilots throttled up for takeoff, I let out a sigh of relief.

We had made it.

Then I was shoved back into my seat, and my stomach sank as the plane raced down the runway and leaped into the air.

We’re in the air, Mark, I sent to him. Your mom and Antsy are with me.

Good! I could feel the relief in his thought. He was worried about me. I wanted to cry again. Why should he be worried? I wasn’t the one captured by our enemy.

The plane banked, turning to take us to Kansas and the decommissioned missile silo that was our emergency bunker.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 4.

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I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!