Chapter 13-350: A Legion of Duty (1/2)

All of them had full sensory input, so they could all exult in the feeling of strength, power, and control that so far exceeded what they’d had on their own, even the former Amazons.

They didn’t have to worry about eyestrain, either, because right now, they just had a Mask of Clarity; they didn’t have eyes, courtesy of the lilitu queen being refined away behind them. She was responsible for a nice chunk of their demonic appearance, along with a long-refined erinyes, from what she’d been told.

The bastard of a Warlock who’d Consumed her had been using her identity to arrange smuggling trips bringing Mexicans into America, fleeing the gang violence, and then opportunistically picking off some of the immigrating women to Consume. That was where Selena, Nanai, Maria, and Sharice had all come from, Consumed by the bastard wearing her face and identity like a glove.

The bastard had torn apart the psyches of most of his victims, patching in aspects of their personalities into a gestalt, only keeping her intact to serve as a flawless, helpless cover identity while it lasted.

The Warlock had not been ready for a silver-eyed Heavenbound with a resonant Hellpact to walk in the door of the restaurant she worked at and get promptly Consumed in return, binding up the perverted Hungry Kiss Pact, letting the rapist bastard burn in hellfire in the screaming agony of the silent back of their Pactspace, while Master Fred had tried to save the rest of them that he could.

Only the five of them had managed to survive, Master Fred having to rip aspects of the other four out of the Warlock they’d been fused to, a process which totally drove that Warlock insane as it tore their jigsawed mind apart.

She’d seen and been forced to participate in the process of Consuming at least a score of women. Master Fred had said he’d felt the traces of at least fifty on the bastard, although most had been burned off them and floated free, caressed in angelfire and wrapped gently around the Pact here and there.

If they wanted to, their group could go up to some of them and absorb them, memories of another woman’s life, and take the parts of another’s soul into themselves. Everyone had done so at least once, and so Daisy found herself recalling the life, desires, and emotions of an older businesswoman from New York City, a former rival of the Warlock who’d had literally everything taken from her...

The mindless fucker deserved it all, she spat to herself, but even the fleeting brush of her attention drew spits from the rest of the Legion at him, too.

Most of the others were sitting at the edge of Markspace if they had nothing to do, voyeuring through kind souls out there to watch their favorite TV shows, or listening to music, or in the case of Selena, attending services to Amana faithfully.

One of Lady Azaia’s thoughtstreams was watching along with them, mixing right in, chatting with all of them, clearly enjoying herself while she engaged in some intense killing on the far side of the world with the rest of her family and some additional Irish volunteers, putting down smiling Buddhist soul-slavers that made her skin crawl with revulsion to look on them.

Daisy knew she was supposed to feel embarrassment over their relationship with Azaia, but alas, embarrassment was fear, and their Heavenbound Pact didn’t let them. She was instead stuck with feeling joy and wonder and relief and tenderness and boundless protectiveness.

Letting Azaia go to the far side of the world alone had been unusually hard for all of them. She was a bright ray of light they didn’t want to lose. But they had a job to do, and the siren song of Karma and her touch paled before the obligations to Heaven, and they all knew it.

Azaia was fully capable of taking care of herself. With Lady Traveler’s guidance...

Daisy looked /up despite herself.

The swirl of peace and contentment from Master Fred’s incredibly rigid emotions swept past her as soon as she directed her thoughts at the woman at the top of the Markspace, and that direct bond between the two of them.

Lady Traveler had moved away from them physically, but that link was still there, and had never been taken down. Physical contact with a Good person was not hard to come by, but spiritual contact with someone like that...

She was too powerful for this world, that was basically a given.

They cannot stop me..., echoed past her once again.

Shared memories from Master Fred, resonating, absolute with Truth. The undead couldn’t stop Lady Traveler, she was just too much by herself... but she wasn’t enough, not for what was coming afterward.

That was their job. That was Azaia’s job.

Heavens, that was the whole Allegiance’s job. They all had to get stronger. It didn’t matter how strong Traveler was, because she couldn’t do everything alone.

Daisy exhaled despite herself. The Heavenbound Pact clearing away fear, letting her think without dread and horror and everything overwhelming her with terror over the future, was literally Heaven-sent.

For all practical purposes, she was a slave and a prisoner. Master Fred could consign her to burning against his Pacts, and take anything he wanted from her as he did so. He could also just let her and the others go, and the Shroud would snatch them up, turning them into slaves for the undead, their own deserved afterlives denied them.

We are stronger together than apart, and I’m not the judge or jury. If you want to sit off somewhere quietly and just endure until the Shroud is down, that is fine. If you want to help out and do something about the complete wastes of existence like those that got you into this mess, you can do that, too.

It should have been hard, almost impossible to trust him after what she had gone through. But how do you distrust a person in that much pain, carrying that much endless sadness from somewhere, with that much determination, all beating with the Light of Heaven?