“Easy,” Jared smiled, returning my repeated kisses as best he could. He kept his weight on one leg, and his pants were torn.

“What happened?” I said, crouching down to get a better look.

“We won,” Claire said with a tired smile.

Ryan limped slowly down the aisle, his arm around Claire. Blood trickled from the outside of his eyebrow, and he was favoring his bad shoulder. They settled into a pew behind Bex, and Father Francis scurried away, waving back at them.

“I'll get the first aid kit!” he called to them as he disappeared down a dark hallway.

Jared smiled down at me. “We did it.”

I leaned up on the balls of my feet to touch his lips to mine. Jared's words were empty. Winning that small battle was only part of the war we had just started.

Jared led me down the aisle, sitting beside me in the pew behind Ryan and Claire.

Ryan leaned back, holding a folded piece of fabric against his eye. “Next time we get into it with Hell, I get dibs on Mr. Puff.”

Claire smiled, licking her split lip. “Your effort was impressive, even if that thing did hang you in the air by your ankle...and use you to open two doors...and make you scream like a girl.”

“I didn't scream like a girl,” Ryan protested.

“Maybe I was just hoping you would,” she grinned.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching out to touch her dirty face. His thumb gently grazed her cheek. “Again.”

Claire's eyes met his for a moment, and then she pulled away. “Just get used to it. You don't need to thank me every time I save your stupid ass.”

Ryan nodded, and then relaxed against the pew.

I watched Claire for a moment, as she desperately attempted to feign indifference. I could recall that expression well; Jared used it many times in the beginning. Unfortunately for Claire, Ryan was far more confident than I was stubborn, and he was certain she would come around.

My eyes settled on Jared's beautiful, dirty face. His eyes were tired, but bright blue, excited and amazed that we had the book and our lives. Seeing his expression only made it more real that he didn't expect any of us to make it to the church alive. A fact that, to me, was more unsettling than relief.

“Did you find anything?” Jared asked Bex.

Bex handed Jared the book. “Not yet. It keeps talking about the birth, the birth, over and over. How it disturbs the balance and how Hell will stop it and prevail.”

Jared flipped through the pages, increasingly frustrated with each one. “Every prophecy has a loop hole. That is why the Nephilim were created, to try and stop the bloodline from King David to Jesus.” He slammed the book shut. “What did Father Francis say?”