Four cops and three politicians, and all but two were human. Unfortunately, the demon in gray was Deacon Bennett.

Surely I could take on two demons by myself. But that left five humans, probably as dedicated to the Church as Anabelle was and as ignorant of its true nature as I’d been three days before. I’d never fired a gun and wasn’t sure I actually knew how. But even if I figured it out, I wasn’t willing to shoot a human unless he came between me and my sister.

Unfortunately, at the moment, that was exactly where the humans were standing, at least figuratively.

I sucked in a deep breath, steeling my nerves. Steadying my hands. I could think of only one way to avoid having to shoot anyone. One way that Melanie, Finn, and I could all emerge intact. So I double-checked the safety on the gun and slid it into my waistband, then waited until the consecrated cop stood with his back to the glass door.

When he was as close as I could expect him to come, I shoved the door open and pressed my glowing left hand to the center of the possessed cop’s back.

Air hissed as he inhaled sharply, and everyone turned to look.

The human politicians gasped, and all three of the human cops drew guns with barrels that looked stretched because of the built-in noise suppressors. But the demon that hung from the fire in my palm could only convulse as his life force was burned from his stolen body. In front of a live audience.

“Shoot to wound!” Deacon Bennett shouted, and as flames devoured my hand, I looked over the frying monster’s shoulder to see the demonic politician staring at me in mounting fury.

The cops blinked, obviously unwilling to look away from the threat—me. “What’s she doing? What’s happening?” the one on the left demanded, and every human in the room looked tense and near panic while they waited for the answer. That was when I realized they could see the glow. The flames from my hand were shining all the way through the consecrated cop hanging from my palm.

“Aim for her leg!” Bennett ordered.

“I’m doing my job!” I had to shout to be heard as I answered the question the deacon had ignored. “He’s possessed. I’m an exorcist. This is what a real exorcism looks like.” I paused to let that sink in, hoping that seeing really was believing. “This is the real purifying flame!”

For a moment, silence reigned, except for the soft crackle of the demon’s skin and clothes. Then the glow began to fade from my hand, and the dead cop thunked to the floor at my feet. Everyone stared at me, guns raised, eyes wide. Two jaws hung open. I searched their expressions for disbelief, but found only utter shock—the inevitable result of a brutal awakening.