Kaitlyn's eyes darted between the three men and Rachel. 'What's going on?'

'I don't know,' Rachel said. 'They just knocked at the door and said you were expecting them.'

'We're here to protect you. We're here to help you,' the priest said, folding his hands in front of him as he stood by the door.

Lines creased Rachel's forehead. 'You do know them, don't you?' She sounded a little panicky. 'I mean, they're priests and they know all about you.'

Kaitlyn's heart squeezed a little more. 'They do?'

'We do,' Father Bartholomew said. He gestured for her to sit. 'Please, take a seat, and we can talk.'

Rachel walked over to Kaitlyn and took her hand. 'You do know them, right?' Rachel suddenly noticed her appearance. Her forehead furrowed more. 'Are you all right?'

Kaitlyn straightened her face. 'I'm fine and, yes, I do know them,' she lied. 'You'd better get to work or you'll be late.'

Rachel looked her in the eyes, then gave a small nod. She squeezed Kaitlyn's hand. At the door, she pulled on her shoes, picked up her handbag and left, the door clicking shut behind her.

Kaitlyn listened to the sound of her footsteps fading away down the footpath. The two men on the couch were staring at her. The back of Kaitlyn's neck prickled at the feel of Father Bartholomew watching her. She really wished Rachel could have stayed. She would have really appreciated some support. But there was no way Kaitlyn was going to pull her into this mess. Whatever this mess was.

'Please, take a seat,' Father Bartholomew repeated.

She walked over to the vacant couch and sat. She glanced at the two men, then lowered her eyes. The young priest had his hands folded in his lap, looking stiff and uncomfortable. Beside him, the second man seemed the complete opposite, relaxed and leaning into the chair, one leg crossed over the other. He wore jeans and boots and his hat was on the table. Not a broad-rimmed hat, Kaitlyn noted. Though, she didn't like his eyes.

'Why are you here?' she asked.

'You must know.'

Kaitlyn raised her eyes to Father Bartholomew's without answer.

'What were they like? The angels?' he continued. 'I would have liked to have met them.'

Kaitlyn froze. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

He smiled faintly. 'As you say.' He turned and picked up a picture frame from the table by the door. He raised his eyebrows at her. 'Your parents?'

Kaitlyn nodded.

'Such a tragedy. And probably the reason why he chose you.' He put it back.

'Who?'

'Satan.'

She stared at him in disbelief. Did he just say that? Could priests say that?

'All the confusion. All the pain. All the rage.' The priest shook his head. 'You're an ideal vessel for the Dark One's rebirth.' He gripped at the cross hanging around his neck. Kaitlyn resisted the urge to do the same. 'I know they're only trying to help but this is the best way. The only way.'

The back of Kaitlyn's neck prickled again, but this time it didn't stop prickling. The three men were silent. Father Bartholomew was gazing at her in a way that turned her heart cold.

She stood. 'I-I have to go. I just remembered, I have to ... I have to ...'

She stopped. The old priest was frowning. 'I'm sorry for this, child. But it must be done. To save the Earth. To save humanity and its billions of souls.'

The man wearing casual clothes suddenly stood. Kaitlyn's eyes widened as he reached behind his belt and pulled out a knife. It was small but looked very sharp.

Kaitlyn's heart galloped. 'What are you doing?'

'I know this is frightening,' the priest said. 'If it gives you any comfort, know that we did not want to do this.'

Kaitlyn stared at the knife as she backed away. Her hip knocked a table, sending a lamp crashing to the floor. She turned and scrambled for the door. But the priest was blocking it.

'Get out of my way,' she gasped.

Outside, tyres screeched. Horns blasted. Though he was old, the priest was much bigger than Kaitlyn was.

She turned and ran for the back door but the man with the knife was fast. She screamed as he slammed his shoulder into her, throwing her into the wall. Her head smacked hard into the plaster, leaving a large dent. Seeing stars, she staggered, then fell to the floor. For a moment, she blacked out. When she regained consciousness she found herself crumpled up against the wall, the man with the knife gazing down on her. His jaw was set and his eyes were cold.

'No,' she croaked. 'Please.' The young priest walked up behind him. He looked pale and nervous. 'Please,' she begged him.

The young priest started saying something. Father Bartholomew added his own voice. Kaitlyn suddenly realised they were praying. The man with the knife took a step towards her. Kaitlyn bunched up further against the wall.

They all turned at the sound of a bang! Kaitlyn cried out. Father Bartholomew staggered back in surprise. With a second bang! the door slammed open.

Kaitlyn's eyes widened as a man stepped inside. No. Not a man. It was one of them. One of the dark angels. One of the Fallen. Tall and silent, long cloak, broad-rimmed hat.

He lifted his face. Kaitlyn choked back a cry. It hadn't been a trick of the flames after all—his eyes truly were like black holes. His lips were thin and white and he was so pale she could see the veins running down the sides of his face.

He didn't look alive.

The young priest rushed away with a cry.

Father Bartholomew went ashen but bravely faced him. 'No!' He stepped in front of the creature, throwing his arms wide, as though protecting Kaitlyn. It did nothing. Utterly expressionless, the angel thrust him aside with a powerful sweep of his arm. The priest stumbled, tried to catch his balance, but fell backwards. His head smashed into the coffee table. Blood flashed against the carpet like spilled red wine. He wasn't moving.

Next, the angel turned to the man with the knife, and that was when Kaitlyn noticed the two others standing outside behind him. The man with the knife stood his ground.

There was nothing else for it.

Clawing at the carpet, she staggered to her feet. In her dizziness the house seemed to turn on an angle. She barely avoided crashing into the wall again as she ran. Her vision was cloudy and her head throbbed so hard it made her sick to her stomach—but she sped out the back door.