Chapter 88: Clair de Lune, Part 6

He had lost.

Sam transformed into a dove (though he made a mental note to find a raven to devour later, as it suited him far better) and flew far and high, circling, hoping to find her again. Deep down, however, he knew he had lost.

He had one chance—several, even—but he had squandered them all. The moment had passed, and Hunger had escaped him.

With his child in her womb.

Growing, undoubtedly, rapidly. Hunger must feel so satisfied. Not only had she violated him while he was defenseless, barely able to resist, not only had she ridden him and thoroughly enjoyed herself, but she had mocked him, slipping away with barely any effort.

At the edge of the forest, Sam reverted back to his human form and collapsed to his knees on the grass. He had only been flying, transformed, but his breathing was heavy. Labored and strained.

That bitch was already out of the forest. If he hadn’t found her by now, there was no chance. Not without help. He had no choice but to admit defeat. That’s why he remained kneeling, with an overwhelming urge to vomit until his throat burned and there was nothing left to expel violently.

He swallowed the nausea, choked back a scream.

He needed to calm down. Everything had gone his way up to now when he didn’t let his emotions get the better of him—his wounded pride in particular. Fine, he had lost sight of Hunger. So what? That didn’t mean he had lost entirely; it was merely a temporary setback. As long as he accepted the facts and thought about his next move.

The only logical thing was to retrace his steps. Fly back as quickly as he could, because he had left Christina and Heather alone with Pestilence.

His heart jumped to his throat as if he had just remembered.

He hadn’t had a choice, but that didn’t make it any less concerning. Sam transformed again, taking off. Faster. Faster, damn it. What a day it would be if they ended up dead. What a day if he had to return to another ruined mansion, with the bodies of his servants and sisters scattered amidst the destruction.

That was the last thing he needed.

At least Satan was leaving him alone for now. Why wouldn’t he? He had already gotten what he wanted.

Even with his limited influence in the outside world, he had managed to screw him over. A round of applause for the old man, he thought bitterly. A damned round of applause.

——

Heather had no idea what else they could do.

She was fairly certain they had tried everything, and yet, they had failed spectacularly. They could keep going, of course, delaying the inevitable, but that wasn’t a real option.

Certainly not with Sam who-knew-where. Not without knowing if he was still alive, if he would return. Heather didn’t want to die here.

There were too many things left for her to do. Goals, unfulfilled desires, experiences she had dreamed of. Love, hatred, and dreams that reached high, even though she was already born into the upper echelons.

She was an ambitious woman, and it wasn’t fair for her flame to be extinguished cruelly and senselessly. Here, today, and now. It wasn’t fair.

The god she believed in wouldn’t let this happen.

You’re the sister of the Antichrist himself, whispered a dark voice deep in her skull as she did what she could to support Christina, resisting the advance of Pestilence as if she were detached from herself. Watching another being’s acts, another will taking control of her body.

The sister of the damned Antichrist. What makes you think that God, even if He exists, would have goodwill toward you? What makes you think you didn’t buy yourself a ticket to hell a long time ago?

Heather shivered from head to toe. That was one of many things she tried not to think about for the sake of her sanity and the love she still felt for her only family. And as a man, too—yes, she admitted it.

Love as a man, too. Neither her ambitious dreams nor her forbidden love would come true if she died here. Especially here, after surviving so much crap.

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Surviving the day the rest of her family had perished at Sam’s hands.

Enough, shut up. I know, I know perfectly well, she thought. So what? So what the hell? He’s my brother. He’s my damned brother.

He had always been her only family, even when the others were alive. It was always just the three of them, the oddballs, the misfits, the ones left behind.

The ones who supposedly suffered from a lack of ambition, an excess of kindness. It had always been the three of them, and she knew, she knew, she knew he was good. He was the best person she had ever known.

Her dark inner voice fell silent.

Not that it mattered. The blow she received left her almost incapable of remembering her name. She hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t seen it coming. By the time she did, she was already struggling to breathe, already doubling over in pain.

Christina gathered power in her hands and unleashed a torrent of water to shield Heather’s head, preventing it from being crushed like a hammer in an instant. But there was no hammer strike, and not because of her little sister’s efforts.

The creature had simply stopped, that mass of death and oozing disease, that horrifying nightmare.

It just stopped and looked into the far-off horizon. It had no features one could call an expression. Even if it had, Heather suspected it wouldn’t have helped her.

Even if it had a human form like War or Hunger, it was clear this being was very different from its sisters. It was barely humanoid, let alone human.

What was happening? It didn’t matter. In any case, the creature fled, not looking back. Neither she nor Christina attempted to strike it from behind.

They recognized the miracle for what it was and didn’t dare provoke the monster.

Immediately, her legs gave out, and she fell to the grass, on the verge of tears, breathing heavily. Christina, however, remained standing.

Heather looked at her, surprised, even a little scared. She didn’t understand what was happening.

Since when had her little sister grown so strong?

Christina helped her up and kept her steady, as her legs still trembled.

“I have no fucking clue what just happened,” Christina said, shaking her head, “but it can’t be as good as it seems.”

“At least we’re alive,” Heather said.

“Yes, we are, but we were never the real target, were we?”

“You don’t think…”

Sam couldn’t finish the horrible question.

“I don’t think so. God, of course not. I don’t want to think so. But what if the worst has happened?”

Christina breathed harder than she realized.

They didn’t dwell on their mutual thoughts for long. Sam emerged from the forest's darkness. Not just alive but seemingly unscathed.

He could regenerate, so it didn’t mean he hadn’t suffered.

But at least she hadn’t had to see it, if he had.

Christina, of course, rushed toward him, screaming his name as though she were ten years younger. She jumped into his arms, hugging him and wrapping her legs around his torso, forcing him to hold her.

Sam winced; Heather noticed. He was limping on one leg, at least for now.

“Sorry for worrying you,” he said.

Much calmer than her little sister, Heather approached Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. Just that.

She wasn’t in the mood for hugs right now, especially after seeing the look on his face.

They were alive, but she had a feeling this wasn’t a victory—not even close.

“She’s pregnant,” Sam said.

Christina understood instantly. It was clear on her face, but Heather needed a moment longer.

That bitch—that Hunger—who had tried to rape him had finally succeeded today.

She felt nauseous at the thought.

“I’m sorry I left you behind, but I had to try to catch her. I had to. But the bitch got away. She completely mocked me.”

“Don’t worry.” Christina showered him with kisses on his face. “Don’t worry. We’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that spawn is never born.”

“What do you suggest?” Sam asked.

“We could… we could ask the Queen for help.”

Clair de Lune, Part 6: END