Savior and amening themselves and everyone within the city limits to death.
Demons, about to saunter into a holy place.
I sighed, resigned. The things I do for her.
Opening the door, I motioned for her to enter. Ladies first, after all. Inside, cold air clogged my nose; I frowned, then snorted out the frigid chill of good. Pfaugh! But even more palpable than the cold was the sense of building energy, soft and low, yet growing all the same. It was an orchestra’s hum, a thing of oboes and violas, of bass drums, rumbling, gaining in volume, in intensity. In power.
“There’s a magus here,” I said, my voice pitched too low for human ears to catch.
“They call him pastor. His name is Seymour.”
“I’d think it would be Simon.”
Her lips stretched into a knowing smile, glistening. “Watch. The people are getting saved.”
We hovered in the back of the small room, for all intents invisible to the mortals. Minor precaution. One never knew if a magus could determine our true natures; dimming ourselves to human perception nearly guaranteed we would be unnoticed. Boring, really, but Jezzie didn’t seem to want to cause a scene. I’d never understand her. I folded my arms across my chest, prepared myself for much eye rolling.
The better part of two hundred people gathered in the round, sitting and standing in prayer. Dressed in rags and riches, in working clothes and their Sunday best, the congregation was caught in a spell of salvation as they clapped gloved hands and stomped booted feet. In the center of the room, a lone man stood at a pulpit, delivering his message to eager listeners. He seemed to quiver as he preached, his voice filled with a passion deeper than mere words. Surrounded by his followers, he alternately trembled like the meek and thundered like the mighty. He was speaking of allowing the Holy Spirit to fill them, to surrender themselves completely to God.
Satan spare me.
“Look at them, Daun,” Jezebel murmured. “What do you see?”
“Lunch.”
She pinched my arm. “I mean it. Look. Look at their colors.”
“Humans all look the same to me.”
“Their skins are dark and light and all shades in between. There’s no segregation here. They’ve come together, here in their house of God. The color line, washed away by holy water.”
“So?”
“It’s not like them to overlook their differences. White and black, mixed in religious frenzy. And more than that. Seymour has white men under his authority.” She grinned, her teeth small and perfect. “Some would call that miraculous.”
“The only miracle is that we’re here in this holy place and not vomiting all over our shoes. Look, they’re jerking.” I watched a great number of the humans shake and tremble as if they’d been stricken with palsy. “I think they’re breaking.”
“They’re overcome.”
“By what? A plague?”
Her grin stretched wide, and for a moment I glimpsed the fangs beneath her false human teeth. “The Word, Daunuan. The Word.”
“The Word causes fits and spasms?”
“They believe so.”
The preacher’s voice burst forth, suddenly volcanic in its intensity. “‘And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.’” He paused, seemed to measure the adoring looks of his followers. “‘They denounce us for our holy baptism, my brothers and sisters. They say we spew a weird babble. They call us fanatics. But they are wrong. It is our mission to displace such wild fanaticism with a living, breathing Christianity.’”
Yawn.
He rolled on, preaching his message amid a hundred hallelujahs, saying that the only true sign of a second Grace was when God Himself entered your body and allowed you to speak in a tongue that the Almighty Himself understands. Et cetera. He called for testimony, and soon the humans were standing, decrying their sins, begging forgiveness and for the power of the Almighty to wash them clean. More clapping, more shouting from the congregation.
Yawn, again.
“Aren’t they fascinating?”
I arched a brow at Jezebel, whose face was entranced as she watched the humans make fools of themselves. “They’re idiots, being led by a half-blind religious faker.”
“You’re so certain he’s a charlatan?”
“He’s a magus,” I said, shrugging. No more needed to be said. Magicians were shifty, and they tasted like mildew. “His power over these mortals has nothing to do with religion. It’s all hypnosis. Suggestion.”
“It’s amusing. Listen—that one’s speaking in tongues.”
I listened. A dowdy woman spewed utter gibberish, shaking as if she were falling apart. “That’s chatter and clicks. That’s no language at all.”
Next to me, Jezebel sighed, petulant. “You’re ruining my fun.”
“Babes,” I said, stroking the swell of her ass, “you know what I consider fun.”
She turned to regard me, and I saw something delicious and altogether evil dance in her eyes. Her lips pulled into a smile filled with promise. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Oh-ho. I cocked my head, waited to see what she’d do next.
She turned her attention to the crowd, and I watched her blow out a breath, a puff of power, watched that bit of magic float over the room and slowly settle on a handful of people. They shuddered, then as one they let out peals of laughter. One elder fell to the floor, his ancient body riddled with spasms as the laughter tore through him.
“Not usually the sound I aim for,” I said.
Jezebel smiled, all innocence. “A little tickle before the slap. Your turn. Try to be subtle.”
Subtle? Where was the fun in that?
More of the humans slowly fell sway under Jezebel’s power, their giggles and chortles and guffaws riding the air along with the praises to the Lord and the declarations of their sin being washed away.
Their leader banged his fist on the pulpit, pronounced their delight a sign of “holy laughter” and commanded his congregation not to resist the power. “It will go through you like a wave of electricity. And when you feel it, give way! Surrender yourselves to the power! Let His power fill you, thrill you!”
Well, who was I to pass up such an invitation? I spread my arms wide and pushed.
As my power touched them, the mortals shivered, ahhed. Some it passed over completely; those people were the truly good, the humans slated for Heaven—ones even the promise of lust could not tempt. Alas. Those frigid mortals watched their brethren succumb to fleshly excitement, and they covered their mouths and widened their eyes as they beheld the physical
