The Devil's Pact: A Forbidden Love and Ancient Battle for the Soul

The Devil's Pact
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2013

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Order of Mary Magdalene

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“Come in,” I said to my fellow nun's, inviting them into my hotel room.

Well, it wasn't actually my hotel room. Last night when I flew into SeaTac from Miami, Providence led me to an insurance adjuster named Curtis at the airport's baggage claim. We flirted while waiting for our luggage and he invited me up to his Hotel Room. When Providence gives you a place to stay, with a cute guy to boot, you don't say no. Right now, Curtis was attending the convention in the hotel and I didn't expect him back for a few more hours.

“Are you hungry?” I asked my Sisters, closing the door behind them, “Curtis is paying for it?” Last night, I was on top of Curtis, enjoying his big cock in my pussy as I rode him cowgirl style, when his wife called. The asshole spoke to his wife while I fucked him, the disgusting pig. Since he turned out to be a cheating asshole I didn't feel bad at running up his hotel bill.

“Ohh, Curtis,” the black nun said in her exotic, African accent. “Is he handsome?”

“He has the most gorgeous, blue eyes, that just make you melt in your panties,” I answered, feeling like a teenage girl for the first time in decades, gossiping with my friends about boys. “But, please order something. The asshole is married.”

“Ah, so sad to see a marriage vow so easily broken,” tutted the Latina sister.

I realized I didn't know their names. The only nun I knew was Sister Louise and she was captured by the Warlock Mark Glassner. “I am Theodora Mariam. And...and I'm so happy you're here.” I could feel tears running hot down my cheeks. Pull yourself together, Theodora. You're not actually eighteen.

The Latina nun hugged me gently, rocking me like a mother. “Shh, it will be alright, muñequita. I am Isabella Cecillia.”

“Agnes Chibuzo,” the African nun said and kissed my cheek. “God has sent us to aid you in your trials, Sister Theodora.”

I sniffed. “Thank you, Sisters.”

“Now, I have been traveling almost non-stop for last twenty-four hours,” Agnes said, wearily. “It has been a long trip from Sierra Leone. So tell me, why has God, through his servant Gabriel, sent us here.”

I told them everything I knew. How Sister Louise had tried to exorcise the Warlock Mark Glassner and been captured through the interference of Lilith of the Black Moon. How I was taught the ancient prayers and used Mark sister to attack him. But that failed. His lover, the other Warlock, freed him from the bond.

“It will be far messier, Ramiel told me, yesterday,” I finished. “Soldiers will be needed. Four and four and four.”

Isabella nodded. “It is like Napoleon all over again,” Isabella sighed. “There were three of us and we each bonded four soldiers under Napoleon’s command. We exorcised Napoleon at Waterloo. His wish to be Emperor destroyed, he lost the battle.” A look of old hurt crossed the tan face of Isabella. “Sister Eustace Mariam was killed in the struggle.”

“How old are you?” I asked in awe.

“I was born in the Year of our Lord, 1732,” Isabella answered.

I blinked, I knew we nuns could practically live forever, but most of us grew weary of the struggle after sixty or seventy years and passed their powers onto a successor. The only nun I had heard of that was over a hundred yeas old was the Mother Superior. “Have you ever faced a demon?” I asked Isabella, hopefully.

“No,” Isabella confessed. “That must be why there are three of us. This Warlock is using ancient magics.” Isabella sighed, wearily, rubbing her face. “I wish we had a monk or two with us.”

“A monk?” I frowned. “You mean a male nun, like us?”

“Well, not like us,” Isabella confessed. “When Creator in his infinite mercy gave his children the means to fight the Adversary, 144 were given the gift, half were men and half were women. The men's gifts were different from ours. They were the soldiers. Given powers to fight demons and monsters and to protect us nuns in situations like this.”

“Why have I not heard of any monks?” I asked.

“The last monk died in 1942, exorcising Hitler,” Isabella sadly answered. “Five nuns and a monk and they all perished. But they broke Hitler's powers and the Allies were able to eventually defeat the Third Reich.”

“The problem with the monks is their calling,” Agnes explained. “Too many died fighting and were unable to pass on their powers to a successor. We have dwindled as well. Maybe a dozen of us remain.”

“I fear

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THE END