Chapter 50: The Bloody Knife

Edited by Master Ken

On November 17th, 2014, the world seemed to belong to the Tyrants. Almost every country had capitulated to their rule, and the majority of mankind was enthralled by their words. On November 18th, Darkness and Fire fell across the Earth.
–excerpt from 'The History of the Tyrants' Theocracy', by Tina Allard

Monday, November 17th, 2014 – Mary Glassner – The Mansion

"Master, I've finished negotiating the details for tomorrow's meeting," Jessica reported.

Chase burped as I patted her back. I had just finished nursing my six month old daughter. She was growing so fast, looking around the table and babbling in baby talk. She was just so cute; I couldn't resist giving her forehead a kiss.

We sat at the dining room table, finishing a delicious dinner the maids had prepared. All the sluts were here for tomorrow's meeting with Lilith. Alison and Desiree had returned from Japan, where they had just finished hunting down a Warlock that could kill people by writing their names down in a notebook. And Lillian had just returned from a meeting of the United Nations, making sure the delegates understood the Theocracy's position on the issues before them. It was almost time to dissolve the organization and replace it with our own government.

"And what are they?" Mark asked Jessica.

"We'll meet at the same spot as last year," Jessica answered. "Although, it will be at noon. Lilith will be accompanied by Chantelle and Lana, and you may bring two others. Obviously Mistress is one, and I think I should be the second. I've spent the last month negotiating with Chantelle, I've come to know how she thinks."

Mark glanced at me. I think that will work, I sent to my husband.

"Okay, the three of us," Mark nodded. "No guards?"

"We leave all guards and soldiers 300 hundred yards back," Jessica replied. "It will be the three of us meeting Lilith and her two priestesses in the middle."

"Good work," I told Jessica, reaching out and stroking her caramel hand.

She flushed, "Thank you, Mistress."

I handed Chase to a maid, and turned back to my dinner. "I hope this meeting doesn't take too long," I said. "Missy wants to have her dress fitting tomorrow afternoon."

"It seems like I just went to one of your sister's weddings," Mark sighed.

"Shannon got married in August, Mark," I said, rolling my eyes. "That was almost three months ago."

"Really?" he said, blinking in surprise. "Where does the time go."

"The Middle East," I said, suppressing a shudder. That had been a frustrating few months putting most of the Muslim world under our power.

"Right," he grimaced. "When are Missy and Damien getting married?"

"December 7th," I replied. "Don't ask why. I think she chose it at random."

"Speaking of weddings, Master," Violet said suddenly. "I'm going to pop the question to Cindy." She glanced at Mark. "That's okay, right?"

"Of course," Mark smiled. "So long as we get to bless you at the altar."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Master," Violet giggled.

I glanced at April; she was happily chatting with Korina. It seemed the teen had finally gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Violet. I bet Hayfa had something to do with that. The two seemed close these days, and April always seemed to find some excuse to visit Willow's clinic and see the nurse at work.

Dessert was brought out, and Mark just nudged it with his fork. He was tense, nervous. The meeting tomorrow could go disastrously wrong. My own stomach was roiling now, his worry infecting me. Lilith was mercurial and unpredictable. And she's spent the last year breeding her children. Our spies in the city reported that all women were required to submit to her affections. Every day, dozens were brought to her, often by force, and impregnated by the demoness. That's why the Legion ringed the city, their ranks swollen with women who had lost husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers to the Wormwood Plague, and were itching to get revenge on Lilith.

I pushed back from the table and walked around to Mark, my hands kneading his shoulders as I bent down to whisper, "Come to bed; let me soothe your nerves."

"Sure," Mark answered. He stood up, his eyes peering down my low-cut, green dress. That brought a smile to my lips; I puffed out my chest, feeling sexy.

I hooked my arm around his. "Goodnight, my sluts," I said to them. "I want all of you well rested and ready for the backup plan." Just in case things went wrong, I wanted to be ready to trap Lucifer.

"Good night, Mistress," Xiu smiled. "We'll be ready, right sluts?"

Everyone nodded or voiced their agreement, then Mark ushered me out of the dining room. We walked through the richly appointed halls of our mansion, past some of my favorite paintings: 'Girls at the Piano', 'Two Sisters on the Terrace', and 'Abduction of Europa'. I wished I had half the talent of Pierre August Renoir. Mark loved my paintings, and always told me he loved my art the best. He even hung a few in his office; his favorite was my painting of Mount Rainier. But my husband, sadly, had no real taste in art. I only had passable talent, but it always was nice to hear him praise my works even if they were terrible.

When we reached our bedroom, I slowly unbuttoned my husband's shirt. With his shirt hanging open, I reached in and fingered the lines of his hard muscles, trailing down to his pants. I loved his muscles, they were so yummy, and my pussy was growing damp as I stroked them. I unbelted him, and pulled his pants off and his boxers, freeing his semi-hard cock rising from the tangle of dark-brown pubic hair.

"Lie down on your stomach," I ordered my husband as I unzipped my dress, and let it fall to the floor. I wore nothing underneath. My husband's eyes drank in my nudity with hungry eyes; nothing made a woman feel sexier than a man's lusty gaze.

I found the massage oil, and straddled his butt. He flinched when the cold, cinnamon-flavored oil dripped on his back. I rubbed the oil across his muscular back, then started kneading his shoulders. "You're so tense," I said, working at a knot in his neck. "It's going to be fine tomorrow."

"Will it?"

"Probably," I admitted, that sinking pit returning in my stomach as I massaged lower.

He sighed, the tension melting out of him. I leaned over and kissed his back, tasting the spicy oil, before I rubbed lower, sliding down to straddle his legs as my hands found his firm butt. He had such a fine ass, perfectly sculpted, and my fingers dug into the flesh.

I massaged his butt, squeezing the tension out of his hard muscles. I leaned down, and gave his butt-cheek a nip with my teeth, then turned around and started on his powerful thighs. Pleasure tingled through me as I worked his legs, rubbing my pussy on his ass. Mark sighed as I worked his calves. I had to lean over to reach, my clit pressing against his flesh.

"Thanks, Mare," he whispered when I finished his leg.

"Wait until I do your other side," I giggled.

"Do you really think everything's going to go smoothly tomorrow?" he asked.

"I hope it will," I answered. "Lilith has to know we could wipe her city off the map if it came down to it. And I think she's too cowardly to try and attack us herself. She likes to use her daughters, and keep herself at arms-length."

"She has daughters that can turn invisible, bending light around them or blending into their surroundings." He paused, my hands sliding down his thighs. "This could be a trap."

"You can summon your armor in a moment's notice," I pointed out. "Our soldiers won't be far away, and the ghosts can cover ground rapidly if they choose to. She'd be stupid to try and do anything. Now turn over."

Mark rolled over, his cock at full mast. I sat down on it, rubbing his cock into the wet grove of my pussy. I shifted my weight, enjoying the feel of his dick sliding through my labia and nudging my clit as I poured more massage oil on his chest. I leaned over, working on his pecs.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, reaching out to squeeze my breast. A bead of milk leaked out, and he brought it to his mouth.

"You're not so bad looking, yourself," I smiled back.

"I think there's another part of my body that needs to be massaged."

"Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence as I slid against his shaft. "What part?"

"I think my cock needs a deep tissue massage," Mark grinned.

"An intimate, deep tissue massage?"

"As deep as possible, Mare."

I slid up just a little bit more, felt the head of his cock nudging at my pussy. "I think I can help you out with that, hun."

He groaned loudly, his eyes squeezing shut, as I slowly slid my pussy down the length of his cock. It felt so wonderful as his cock rubbed through my sheath, filling me up as I took him all the way to the root. I leaned back, squeezing his cock with my pussy and then relaxed. I didn't move my hips; I just massaged his cock with my cunt's muscles.

"Christ, that's driving me crazy!" he groaned, his hands finding my breasts.

He rolled a nipple between his fingers, the pleasure making it harder to resist moving my hips. I kept squeezing and relaxing, a bonfire blazing inside me. It grew harder and harder to stay still. That fire demanded to be put out, and burned with a frustrated agony through me.

"Fuck!" I gasped, then started bouncing rapidly on his cock, my breasts jiggling up and down. I needed to cum, I needed to soothe the fire burning inside me. "My horny stallion! Flood me with your cum! Extinguish my flames! Oh, Mark! Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

I ground my clit into his groin, and twisted my hips, letting his cock rub harder on different spots inside my pussy. I threw my head back, my auburn hair wildly flying about my head as I fucked my husband. His hands were on my ass, squeezing the plump flesh. He pulled me up and slammed me back down on his cock. Over and over, churning me up inside.

"Fuck, Mare!" he groaned! "Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it! Cum in me!" My voice sound shrill; I neared my limits.

He grunted, an animalistic growl, and then his cock flooded my pussy. My orgasm was intense. Agonizing pleasure surged through every nerve in my body, and tensed every muscle. I collapsed onto his oily chest, gasping and writhing. His strong arms wrapped around me as I continued to quake, making me feel safe and loved.

"Everything's going to be fine," he whispered, and I realized I was crying. The fear I had bottled up released with my orgasm.

I kissed my husband. Everything would be fine, and tomorrow would go off without a hitch.

Tuesday, November 18th, 2014 – Mark Glassner – I-5 at Seattle City Limits

"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.