he whispered as he pulled a robe around himself. “I have to talk to you,” she implored, and pushed past him into his small, modest home. “I need to tell you something,” she exclaimed, but she gasped for breath. She felt like she was having an asthma attack, her lungs closed up. She knew this was Luc’s doing, but she could not stop it any more than she could coerce her lungs to breathe. And just before her eyes closed she saw the angel lingering over her, grasping at her hand. Emma passed out, and Father Peter ran to her. “Wake up, Emma,” he cried out as he shook her shoulder. “Emma, wake up.” He sat on one side of her, and the angel sat at the other. And then Lucifer was there, in the doorway of his small home. He was bigger than life, and Father Peter trembled at the sight of him. “Oh, God help me,” he whispered as his hands went to make the sign of the cross over his body. “God help me. Get behind me, Satan.” He fumbled for a crucifix, but Lucifer merely swatted it out of his hands.
