Page 9 of Samhain Savior

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“I am. Father Phips’s death wasn’t the first. Guardians are falling all over the planet. Even the most secure vaults are being raided.”

Over the millennia, Lucifer had taken to placing the most powerful relics of Hell in places that his enemies would be least likely to look for them; consecrated ground. He’d assigned Guardians—some of his most loyal followers—to watch over them, protecting them from those who would use them for their own means.

William Phips had been one of the first.

“What has been taken?” Corson asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Trinkets, mostly,” Modi answered, sitting forward, his pose matching mine. “Some minor summoning items, useless as those are these days. There were a few of the lesser-known scrolls from the Dead Sea, a few journals from some pompous old men who thought they knewbetter than everyone else, and several moderately powerful infernal relics and artifacts. Things like that.”

“They’re trying to open the gates,” Corson surmised, and Modi nodded.

“But the pathways have been barred for years,” Vine cut in. “The Dark Lord is the only one who can reopen them. Do they really believe they can find a way when no one else could? Is the Order really that arrogant?”

“So it would seem.”

“It explains all the attempted summonings we’ve been coming across,” Corson continued, his face thoughtful. “Although none have been successful. Yet.”

“Is that all they took?” Vine asked. “Just dusty old nicknacks?”

“Nothing of any real value was lost...until Trinity Church.”

“No,” Mal hissed, his coal-black eyes widening. “They didn’t. Asmodeus, if they took it—”

“They did,” he confirmed, and the weight of that revelation sat heavily on us all. “They stole a piece of the Fallen Key. And I suspect they will already be searching for the other two pieces, as well.”

Of course, they would be.

Lucifer hadn’t separated the amulet into three pieces for nothing. As an item of supreme magical strength, the Keyhad been infused with the essence of Hell itself. All the vices that gave Lucifer his power, squeezed into an amulet that could fit into the palm of your hand.

Each piece was more than just a relic—they were conduits of pure sin made manifest. The first piece contained Wrath, Greed, and Envy. The second held Lust, Pride, and Gluttony. The third—Sloth—served as the binding clasp. Together, they formed an amulet of such dark power that Lucifer himself had feared what it might do in the wrong hands.

And it had several uses, as well, including the ability to sever a demonic binding. That meant voiding a soul contract with a crossroads demon as well as freeing a human from demonic possession—whether the demon agreed to being removed or not.

It was easily one of the most dangerous relics in existence, and it was apparently now in the hands of a group devoted to destroying humanity and tearing open the veil between the living and the dead.

“You’ll just have to find the pieces before they do,” Modi continued, as though it were really that simple.

“It doesn’t really matter, though, does it?” Corson rumbled, his head tilted in question. “I mean, without an Everwood witch,it’s useless anyway.”

He was right; part of the magic of the key was that it needed the blood of an Everwood witch to bind the pieces back together. Without that, the Key was useless.

“And,” Corson went on, “there hasn’t been an Everwood witch for over three hundred years.”

Modi pursed his lips, but didn’t speak.

That in itself told us all we needed to know.

“Ithasbeen over three hundred years since the birth of the last Everwood witch, right Asmodeus?” Corson asked, accusation in his tone.

“That may not be entirely true.”

“Holy Hell,” Vine breathed, running one hand through his hair. “Talk about dropping a bomb, Modi.”

“How long have you known about this?” I snapped.

“I don’t know anything for certain,” he assured us, his blue eyes pleading for understanding. “But there have been some rumors. Whispers I’ve collected over the last couple centuries that have led me to believe that the Everwood line wasn’t wiped out like we all thought.”