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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 5.

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Even in death, we serve the Living Gods faithfully.

—The Epistle of Xiu 5:1

Mary Glassner – Osage Field, Kansas

I sat facing Sam across the hole, the air still warm even though the sun had set over an hour ago. Stars twinkled above, staring down at us as we prepared. I breathed in, smelling the fresh soil of the disturbed ground.

The hole was a few feet deep, dug by Duncan and the other former SWAT officers. We were in a grassy field next to one of the runways at Osage Field. Nearby was the entrance to the Missile Silo we had converted into a survival bunker. Besides the SWAT officers and their families, we recruited the Blackwoods to be caretakers of the bunker itself. It was nice seeing Belinda and her eighteen-year-old daughter Cassie again. I remembered all the fun I had with Mark’s jogging sluts last June. Along with them was Belinda’s husband, Oscar, who immensely enjoyed having a wife and daughter as his personal sluts. Mother and daughter wore matching collars.

All the sluts, my family, and servants paced around the hole or stood in worried knots. Mark’s mother and sister looked sick with worry, and the sluts all clung around Alison, encouraging the girl. They whispered that Desiree was safe and that she and Alison would be reunited. Rachel and Jacob, our accountants, held each other. Their wife, Leah, was our chauffeur and was with Mark when the attack happened. Images of our dead bodyguards were being shown on the news, along with Mark’s beating. But there was no news on Leah or Violet.

I hoped that meant they escaped, but I feared that they were dead.

“Are we ready?” I demanded impatiently of Sam. Every minute we delayed was another minute that my husband was in danger.

“Yes,” Sam answered. “Light it.”

The hole was piled with brush and soaked in gasoline. Duncan lit a rag and tossed it into the pit. The fire had a greasy smell. A sickly, black smoke that burned my eyes rose up into the sky. Sam closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her plaything, Candy, sat next to her, holding her olive hand. Sam was our vizier. She understood all the magic better than anyone, even inventing a few spells and charms all on her own.

I had a plan. I would take a Nun’s powers and exorcise Brandon. He wanted me. All of his broadcasts contained his threat to beat Mark until I turned myself in. He wanted to make me his slut, just like Mark had made his wife Desiree our slut. All I had to do was submit to his lusts and exorcise him, and then this would all be over.

But I needed to know one important fact—if Brandon had a sister, he could have cast the Mowdah spell. Then he’d be able to recognize my new aura. Right now, my aura was red, a Warlock’s aura, but after I stole the Nun’s Gift of the Spirit, my aura would turn bronze. Just like Mark’s had when my mother gave her Gift to him. It was the aura of a Shaman.

The Magicks of the Witch of Endor spoke at great length on aura colors, including the Shaman’s. I needed confirmation that my plan would work.

I needed necromancy.

“Spirits of the dead, I beseech you,” Sam shouted out, holding her arms above the fire as she began the Naba ritual. It was supposed to be very dangerous. If you conjured the wrong spirit, one filled with violence or hatred, it could lash out and hurt the summoner. And since your life force sustained the summoning, it placed a great strain on you. If you maintained it too long, you could even die. “Appear before me. Rise once more from the grave and clothe yourself in smoke and fire. Appear and give us your counsel!”

I shivered as the energy flowed out of Sam. The earth rumbled beneath me. A silence fell upon the world. All the crickets chirping went silent. The wind stopped blowing. Everyone watching held their breath. Something approached.

And then the ground groaned in pain. The fire surged upward with a screaming roar. The heat was so intense it caused me to wince and slam my eyes shut in pain. My skin felt like it was about to blacken beneath the roaring inferno Sam had conjured. And my heart hammered in fear. Something had gone wrong, Sam had messed up and unleashed an inferno that was consuming us.

What should I do?

Then there was a great, moaning whoosh. The heat vanished.

The evening air no longer felt warm on my skin. A growing chill seeped up from the hole. Cold, clammy air caressed my naked body. I shivered, opening my eyes to witness a figure coalescing out of the thick, black smoke rising up from the depths of the earth.

From the depths of Hell.

The smoke swirled towards the coalescing shape, thickening it. A torso grew, sprouting arms and legs like tendrils from a vine. A dome appeared, swelling up into a head. The smoke kept rushing in like the suction from a tornado. The billowy figure grew more and more solid. The lines of a body appeared, legs grew firm and slim, hips narrowed, and the hint of a bosom formed. Wispy hair sprouted curly from the head and the features of the face grew more defined—a doll’s face with plump lips.

My heart froze. I knew that face.

My eyes watered in grief as Karen spoke, “Hello, Mistress.”

Her voice was soft, distant. Ethereal. It was like she was shouting from a thousand miles away, a million miles. Farther away than the Moon, the Sun, all the stars in the heavens. All of existence lay between us, a vast gulf that her voice was somehow just able to cross.

“Karen,” my voice broke. Tears rolled wet down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Karen. Mark didn’t know.”

“Don’t be sad, Mistress,” Karen whispered. “It wasn’t your fault or Master’s. That vile creature tricked him. Tricked us all.”

“Are you in pain? Does it hurt where you are?”

She smiled softly. “No, Mistress. Chasity and the others wait with me. We welcomed our sisters who fell today.”

The memory of Chasity rising, drawing her Taser to save my life burned in my thoughts. “What are you waiting for?”

“Why for you and Master, of course. Even in death, we are yours. Always yours.” Her gray, smoky hand reached out and cupped my face, wiping at my tears. “Master needs you. So how can I help?”

“Does Brandon Fitzsimmons have a sister?”

“No, just a brother.”

Relief flooded through me. I knew about the brother, Brandon had killed him a few weeks ago, but I had to make sure he had no sisters who had escaped our research. My plan would work. “Is the Mother Superior at Rennes-le-Château?”

“She is, Mistress,” Karen answered. “Alone and waiting for you.”

My heart skipped a beat. “She’s waiting for me?”

“For two thousand years she has waited for you, Mistress,” Karen paused. “Momentous events are happening. Lucifer has driven his enemies from the field, and now he waits as his prison crumbles about him. Dark days lie ahead of you.”

“I don’t care. I just need to save Mark!”

“Sam is nearing the limits of her strength. Ask quickly!” Karen urged.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” I asked. “Something I haven’t thought of?”

“Brandon has…” Sam screamed, loud and sudden, drowning out Karen’s words. “…other.”

“What did you say?” I asked as the smoke started to drift apart, the form vanishing into a billowing cloud that rose up to the heavens.

Karen was gone.

Sam collapsed on the ground, twitching, blood trickling from her nose. I should be concerned for her, but all I could think about were Karen’s words. Brandon has what? An other? That didn’t make sense. A mother, maybe? He somehow found the way to bind anyone that heard him speak with the Zimmah spell. Maybe it involved his mother somehow. A male Warlock needed to use his mother to bind someone. I frowned. No, that could not be right? His mother was dead. Our investigation into Brandon revealed that. It was why we didn’t think of him as a threat.

Maybe she wasn’t his biological mother? Was he adopted?

“Ma’am, the plane is fueled,” Lynda, one of the pilots, said.

“Let’s go,” I said, pushing aside those questions. Mark was in too much danger to waste a second.

My mom caught my arm as I walked by her. “The Mother Superior is a legend. You heard Karen, she’s waiting for you. Don’t do this. She has faced far stronger Warlocks than you and prevailed.”

“I have to, Mom,” I said, shaking my arm from hers. “There is no other choice.”

“Please, Mary,” she begged.

I hugged her, savoring the feel of my mother’s arms. I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to stay in the safety of her arms. But I wasn’t a child. “It will be okay. She’s alone. I will have thirty armed men and women with me. I will be perfectly safe. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Mom whispered and kissed my cheek.

Then Dad engulfed me in his arms and kissed me on my forehead. “You can do it, Mary. I know you can. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I whispered, fighting back tears.

Sam was standing up, looking shaky as Candy held a cloth to Sam’s bleeding nose. For a moment, I thought I saw anger in Candy’s eyes as she helped Sam. I was about to say something when Missy ran up and hugged me fiercely.

“Good luck, Sis!” she said and kissed me on the lips.

“You watch out for Mom and Dad,” I told her and ruffled her strawberry-blonde hair. I glanced back at Candy and saw only concern for Sam on her face. Did I even see any anger?

“You can count on me, Mary!” Missy exclaimed.

The sluts all hugged and kissed me. I was so scared. I didn’t want to do this. But I had to. I took a deep breath. Resolve stiffened my spine. I would save him.

I marched to the waiting 747. I planned on taking all twenty-one of the bodyguards and the nine SWAT officers to France. It would leave all my loved ones unprotected, but none of that mattered if I couldn’t save Mark in time. I took one last look at all our friends and family before the plane’s hatch was closed. I walked to my seat and strapped in. My thoughts were full of worry over what Karen had tried to tell me. I focused, trying to remember how her lips were moving, trying to figure out what Sam’s scream had drowned out.

I had a long flight to France to ponder it.

* * *

Lana Paquet-Holub – Seattle, WA

“Lana, bring me the twins,” Lilith commanded.

“Yes, my Goddess,” I answered, standing up.

For hours, Lilith had been brooding in her chambers, pacing in her reborn flesh. Brandon’s dramatic attack on Mark and his occupation of Tacoma had changed everything. The man had, in a single day, brought the entire United States to its knees. Only a few hours ago, the President himself had knelt and paid homage to Brandon, surrendering the country to him on national television.

All of our careful maneuverings in Seattle would be for naught with this new, and unanticipated, player. We had the Mayor under the sexual domination of Lilith’s daughter, Lamia. And Ziki, another of her monstrous daughters, had assumed the form of Nate Kirkpatrick, the City of Seattle’s head of human resources. She slowly hired Lilith’s followers to key positions within the city’s government. We were so close to taking over the city and establishing Lilith’s rule.

So close.

And then this damned Brandon Fitzsimmons had to go and ruin it all.

Lilith must have a plan to stop him. I pondered that thought as I threaded my way through the warehouse. It was owned by the City of Seattle but not currently in use. With the Mayor in our power, we had quietly occupied it, moving Lilith’s children and her pregnant followers here. Babylon’s house had quickly grown too crowded.

As I walked past the women, they all bowed to me. Some were pregnant, while others had already birthed Lilith’s children. Every woman who joined up was bedded by our goddess, bred, and within a month, delivered her a child. The children all stood out from us regular humans in some way—unusual colorings, abnormal heights, or strange features that made them look slightly different. And they all had powers. My daughter, Cora, was a Manticore. She was big and had leonine features. Lamia, Chantelle’s daughter, had purple hair. Others stood out even more. Ziki, who masqueraded as Nate Kirkpatrick, was a freakish albino in her natural form.

And the twins were the strangest of all of Lilith’s children.

I found them with their mother, a recovering heroin addict named Andi. The twins were pale girls, their hair pure white. They lacked any pigment in their eyes. They were born yesterday, and would reach their maturity by tomorrow evening. When I entered the room, the twins jumped in surprise. One vanished completely while the other became translucent.

I shuddered in discomfort. I could see straight through her.

They were both Dimme, more spirits than creatures of flesh. When they were translucent or invisible they could pass through solid objects. Lilith was ecstatic when they were born. “Dimme are assassins,” Lilith had purred when she saw the twins, “capable of penetrating an enemy’s defenses and killing their target with a single touch.”

They could only kill when they were solid. But that also meant they were vulnerable.

Most of Lilith’s children were immune to normal weapons. Only enchanted weapons or cold iron could hurt most of them. But a few, like the Dimme, were more vulnerable. As long as a Dimme remained translucent or invisible, she could not be harmed by anything. However, she could not affect anything, either. To kill, she had to become solid and leave herself vulnerable to any weapon.

“Di, Emi,” I said, holding out my hand. “Your Mother wishes to see you.” The invisible one reappeared. I think she was Emi. And then Di became solid. Hesitantly, they both gripped my hand. I smiled shyly at them.

“Mother needs us?” Emi asked, her voice a soft whisper.

I nodded. “Come on.”

Both girls smiled and looked almost cute. Almost.

Lilith was waiting in her chambers, the former warehouse manager’s office. It was richly appointed. Persian rugs covered the floor. Silk tapestries hung on the walls. Scented candles, held in gold sconces, lit the room, filling the air with sweet jasmine and spicy cinnamon. Lilith sat at her richly carved, mahogany desk and smiled happily when we walked in. She stood and walked out from behind her desk, kneeling with her arms outstretched.

Emi and Di ran to her, laughing as their divine mother scooped them up in her arms. “Oh, you two are growing up so fast,” Lilith praised then kissed them both on their foreheads. “And so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, Mother,” Di politely said.

“No,” Lilith answered with a vain smile. “But then no one is.” Lilith set her daughters down. “You two will be fully grown by tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, Mother,” Emi nodded. “By Sunday night we will be adults.”

Lilith smiled broadly. “Good.” Lilith conjured the images of Brandon Fitzsimmons and Mark Glassner. Well, I thought it was Brandon she conjured. He looked younger and slimmer than he appeared on TV. He even had a full head of hair. Perhaps he had cast a spell? Or did he make a deal with another demon? “Sunday night, when you are fully grown, you are to go south to Tacoma and kill these two men.”

Di and Emi both smiled. I suppressed a shudder. They were hungry, disturbing smiles. “Of course, Mother.”

Lilith spread out maps on her desk and we began to plan the twins’ infiltration. In one stroke, the two great threats to our rule would be assassinated. I trembled in excitement. After tomorrow night, our Goddess would rule.

I shivered in anticipation.

To be continued…

Click here for Goddess of Passion, Chapter 1.

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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!