She took a step back, suddenly terrified of him in the worst possible way.

No one spoke. No one moved.

“I know you’re afraid, Rose,” Grace said, voice tender. “I know you believe you’re nothing without him. But he only keeps you blind to eternal life, which is living free from fear right now, not after you die. Choose life, Rose. Choose love.”

The veins were thick on Sylous’s neck. With a sudden roar, he turned and rushed at Rose, eyes red, lips quivering.

He was coming for her. He was going to force her to shoot Grace. He was going to tear a gash in her neck.

She acted as much from some deeply hidden instinct as from that sliver of light that Grace’s words had opened up in her mind. She jerked the gun up and fired when he was halfway to her.

The gun thundered and bucked in her hand. A hole appeared in Sylous’s forehead, and Rose immediately thought, Oh no, what have I done?

Stopped in his tracks, Sylous stared at her, stupefied. But he did not waver. Instead, his lips slowly twisted and peeled back, revealing a jaw with fangs. His body began to morph, arms lengthening, eyes narrowing into slits, claws extending.

He tilted his head back, spread his long jaw and roared at the ceiling. The windows rattled and the congregation cowered.

Sylous, who was now as much beast as man, lowered his head, chest rising and falling in great breaths. “I’ve always despised you.” His voice was low and guttural, popping with phlegm. “Now I will kill you.”

He flinched and came like a bolt of lightning. Rose’s blood turned to ice.

“Leave,” a voice said to her right. Grace, standing with head tilted down, staring at Sylous with bright and certain eyes.

The word seemed to have its own power, slamming into the onrushing beast like a wave. As if hitting an invisible wall, Sylous came to an abrupt halt. Jerked his head around to stare at Grace. Confusion overtook his fanged face.

“Leave us now,” Grace said.

The beast who was Sylous blinked once, then began to smolder. His flesh turned to fog, and with a shriek that faded with his body, he returned to where he had come from.

Sylous was gone.

Rose gasped as his presence left her. But it didn’t feel like a simple leaving. It felt as though a heavy, debilitating disease had been dragged from her lungs, ripped from her heart. Her mind cleared and she stared at the empty space before her.

Gone.

The gun fell from Rose’s hands and thumped loudly on the wood. She slowly turned to Grace, who was smiling.

“Fear,” Grace said, “or love. Darkness or light. Religious judgment or Christ. You can only serve one master.”

Rose fell to her knees and began to weep.