Immanuelle couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. All this time she had been so busy chasing beasts and devils, believing that evil began and ended with them. She had been so foolish. True evil didn’t lurk in the depths of the Darkwood. It was not in Lilith or her coven, or even in any of the curses they cast. True evil, Immanuelle realized now, wore the skin of good men. It uttered prayers, not curses. It feigned mercy where there was only malice. It studied Scriptures only to spit out lies.
