She looked over at Revenant, who had just shoved to his feet to pace back and forth between pillars. He didn’t seem to be interested in what was going on, but Gethel huffed.

“Are you just going to sit there, you stupid cow?”

“No,” Blas said absently. “Of course not.” It was a measure of how flustered she was that she didn’t snap back at the evil mother-to-be, and when Revenant shot a look in their direction, she knew she had to get her shit together.

First things first, she needed to gather amniotic fluid. It only took a few minutes to set up the ultrasound machine, which she’d use to determine the position of the fetus and the best location to insert the needle. As the unit warmed up, she made an attempt to engage her False Angel X-Ray vision… and was shocked when it flickered to life.

Warmth infused her body as the gift took hold with an almost orgasmic sensation. It was as if the False Angel enchantment were taking its last dying breath, and she intended to use it for all it was worth.

Quickly, she focused on Gethel’s swollen belly, and instantly, the form inside took shape. She expected to see the outline of a monster, but instead, she saw what appeared to be a run-of-the-mill baby, no different from what she’d see in a human hospital.

It’s not a baby. It’s not human. It’s not even a demon. It’s Satan’s son. Evil incarnate.

Keeping that thought firmly in mind, she chose a spot to place the needle she’d use to withdraw amniotic fluid.

“You’re going to feel a pinch…” She inserted the needle, using her special vision to ensure that she hit a pocket of fluid and not the infant. A moment later, she withdrew the full syringe, capped it, and tucked it into the duffel. Stem cell collection successful.

The solarum-filled syringe sat next to the ultrasound machine, its contents glinting in the chamber’s smoky light.

Do it.

Blas closed her eyes. She’d taken on the mission to do this, to destroy Lucifer in the womb. She’d done it to keep Eidolon out of harm’s way. She could go through with it. She had to.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, she palmed the syringe and oriented the needle so she could jab it straight down, into the back of Lucifer’s skull.

Her False Angel vision snuffed out, but it didn’t matter. The needle was positioned, and even if she somehow missed, just injecting the stuff into the amniotic fluid should do the trick.

It would destroy Lucifer.

Do it.

But she was a doctor. How could she take a life, even if that life was evil? It was still a life, and she was born to heal, not destroy.

Do it!

Her hand shook and her eyes stung, and in the pit of her stomach, the food she’d eaten with Revenant churned. Why was this happening to her? If Lucifer were to strike out at her, she could fight back. She could kill. But this was different. This would sit on her soul like a bruise for the rest of her life.

But by killing him, you’ll be saving thousands of lives.

Hundreds of thousands. Millions, maybe. Come time for the biblical Apocalypse, Lucifer would fight at Satan’s side, orchestrating the suffering of every living thing on the planet.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Gethel snapped. “I don’t have all day. I have a basketful of kittens to eat.”

Blaspheme’s hand jerked. “Kittens? I told you, leafy greens.”

“You said not to eat infants.”

“No meat. At all. Doctor’s orders.”

Gethel hissed. “I don’t believe you.” She pointed at the syringe poised over her belly. “And what is that?”

“Contrast solution,” Blas lied. “It’ll help with the ultrasound.”

The sound of Rev’s heavy boots striking the floor came close, and Blaspheme’s pulse spiked. Had he seen through the lie?

“Hurry.” Gethel dropped her head back against the sofa armrest. “When you’re done I’m going to eat the kittens and have someone rustle me up a human infant or two.”

Rev was almost on top of her. Blaspheme gripped the syringe tight. No more waffling. This bitch and her monster child were going down. If guilt plagued Blas for the rest of her life, so be it.

Her hand shook even harder and nausea bubbled up, but she ignored both and started to shove the needle home.

Suddenly, something crashed into her, knocking her over and sending the syringe flying out of her grip. Revenant tumbled to the ground, and as he shoved to his feet, his boot came down on the syringe, smashing it and splattering its contents all over the floor.

“Oh, hey, sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “I tripped over the ultrasound machine. Hope I didn’t mess anything up.”

He’d tripped? Mr. Uber-agile had tripped?

“Fool!” Gethel barked. “Lucifer is going to skin you alive the moment he learns to wield a blade.”

“He’s welcome to try.” Revenant kicked aside the bits of syringe. “But until then, you need to keep him healthy, so listen to the doctor and eat your damned green shit.” He glanced at Blas. “Finish up. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

Twenty-Four

Revenant strode away from Blaspheme, cursing himself over and over as he walked. Contrast solution. She’d claimed the syringe had contained contrast solution.

He might have believed her had he not watched the drama playing out in her expression as she positioned the needle over Gethel’s belly. Whatever substance she’d been about to inject into Gethel had been poisonous, and Blaspheme had been tormented by the murder she’d been about to commit.