“I drove the sword into her chest, pinning her to the podium and the tome laid upon it. Chloe grasped the blade, palms sliced bloody, a look of utter disbelief upon her face—as if even here, even now, she expected God to intervene. “Always a believer was little Chloe Sauvage. “‘N-no…’ she gasped. ‘All the w-work of his hand is in ac-ccord with his p-plan…’ “I leaned in close, whispered through bared fangs. ‘Fuck his plan.’
