It was the baffling sort of riddle-speak that left me slack-jawed. He pushed away from the doorframe, slumping back to the sanctuary before I could ask any clarifying questions.
Xuân was still staring at me expectantly from the other end of the screen.
“Just get over here,” I urged. “I don’t think I can say everything that needs to be said over the phone. I promise, you’ll be safer once you get here. I don’t know whoyouwork with, but Priscilla and her pals shouldn’t have any troubleentering. It’s demon-friendly.”
“Herpals?” Xuân repeated incredulously before muttering once again, “Who the fuck are you?” I didn’t miss the crescendo as the vehicle accelerated. The steady thumping of locusts against the windshield continued. She was on edge in more ways than one.
“We need a witch. We need witches. We need heavy-hitters, and it sounds like someone else we’re about to recruit is a bona fide man-hater, so I’m glad neither of you is a cishet man. Get here as soon as possible. And, Xuân?”
She looked away from the road just enough to cast me a guarded glance.
“Do you drink tequila?”
***
I cracked open the arched, wooden doors and waited for them to cross the deconsecrated threshold. Xuân and Priscilla arrived ten minutes apart from one another, but they’d waited in their respective vehicles so they could approach together. Green hair and hippie clothes matched the pace of black hair and a black dress as they mounted the steps toward the church.
“Welcome to our—” I wasn’t permitted to complete my greeting, cut short by the newcomers’ sudden scream. Xuân and Priscilla were frozen to the landing, Xuân clutching her chest as she gaped at me.
Priscilla—at least, I assumed that was whom she’d brought—approached me and touched the center of my forehead. She turned to Xuân. “I’m guessing you also saw—”
“Her eyes gouged out with blood streaming down her face? Especially after the locusts…”
Oh, good.I gritted my teeth, picturing the horror-movie mutilation that had set them on edge.
“You’ve been marked,” Priscilla said.
I forced the door open the rest of the way.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said at last, forcing them to stop what they were doing and shake my hand. “My name isMarlow, and I’m, well…I’m the antichrist.”
“That’ll do it,” Priscilla said, unbothered. She moved past me to make herself comfortable in what remained of the rundown sanctuary.
“Oh, so Heaven has it out for you,” Xuân said, patting me on the shoulder as she moved past.
Whatever they said, I hoped the vision was a one-time thing. I followed them into the church.
With the help of our witches, our little army was nearly complete.
I was struck with a curious thought, almost like watching a Renaissance painting unfold as I admired the bizarre amalgamation amidst the pews, the pulpit, the religious iconography, the graffiti, the cracks, the rubble. I wondered how many reactions existed in the world. We’d covered shock, anger, denial, and awe over the past few hours. Nia and Kirby had welcomed them immediately. Resentment, angst, and hostility burbled between Silas and Azrames despite their well-placed jokes and thinly tethered allyship. Xuân and Priscilla added an entirely new dynamic. I giggled at the display of flustered admiration and giddiness from Xuân and the respectful, cautious solemnity from Priscilla. Watching how the angel and demon reacted to the witches, however, was a gift in and of itself.
As I watched the softened affection on Azrames’s face, I began to wonder if he saw witches the same way I might see a puppy. He was instantly warm toward them, doing what he could to make them comfortable. He answered questions, offered drinks that were not his to offer, and kept his broad, strong shoulders rolled forward with the same compassionate, protective stance I recognized in myself whenever I hunched over a particularly cute animal.
Silas, on the other hand, was doing his best to be very brave.
I wasn’t sure what power witches had over angels, but from the child-encountering-a-tarantula energy emanatingfrom him, I imagined he’d had better days.
Ever the magnanimous host, Nia went out of her way to cater to the newcomers’ needs.
“Hey, babe,” I said, sliding between Nia and the box of booze. “Let someone else do that. You can sit back and relax.”
“Trust me,” Nia said through a tightly controlled smile, “I’m barely holding it together. You introduced me to a world of nonsense creatures and made me leave my husband behind. At least give me something to do with my hands.”
Fair enough.
I left them to the box of booze, appreciating how they were able to bond despite the extreme circumstances.
Kirby was already in love, which shocked none of us. I couldn’t verify the status of their existing polycule, but I gathered that they were ready to risk it all to add a high-powered, witchy femme to the diagram. Maybe if Priscilla returned their affection, they’d form a boat-and-barnacle relationship and I wouldn’t have to worry about Kirby’s safety.
