His finger slipped inside the trigger guard.
Gently but firmly, Faustus reached up and placed her hand upon Gilead’s.
He looked at her in confusion, but she simply shook her head slowly from side to side.
“You can’t do this,” she whispered.
Angrily, he pulled away from her, taking aim once again.
“Why the hell not?” he snarled with twitching lips.
“Please,” she whispered, “we don’t know what will happen.”
“We know your devil might win this fight,” he said firmly.
“We don’t know what will happen to me!” she said suddenly.
He shivered despite the warmth of the blistering enemy before them, turning to look at the expression of fear and panic wrought upon her face, and suddenly he understood.
What changes the divine weapon might stir within the devil may also translate to her own fle
