Feature Writer: mypenname3000 /
Feature Title: THE DEVIL’S PACT: CULT 4 /
Copyright: © 2015 by mypenname3000 /
Story Codes: Mf, FF, ff, Ff, Teenagers, NC, Coercion, Incest, DomSub, MaleDom, Anal, Lactation, WS, Pregnancy, Exhibitionism, Doctor/Nurse, Violence /
Synopsis: The Ghost of Paris is dead, but he left behind a legacy. There are those who love him, who miss his touch, and will see him snatched out of the jaws of death in defiance of the Theocracy! Sequel to The Devil’s Pact, the Ghost of Paris /

The Devil’s Pact, the Cult of the Ghost – Chapter 4

Saturday, April 19th, 2014 – Sheriff Caleb Barends – Cassia County, Idaho

I pulled my SUV up to the farmhouse, smiling at the Sapphicist as they walked about the ranch. They were all gorgeous and succulent. And they had been very amenable the last month. When my deputies or I needed relief, we could find it with these friendly women.

The dykes all understood what would happen if they resisted me. They would quickly find themselves separated from each other and given to my deputies as sex slaves. I wouldn’t mind keeping that fine Lizzy, but that would mean caring for the brat growing in her stomach.

I smiled when I saw my sweet Lizzy. She was waddling across the yard, her belly pressing up against her loose dress. She gave me such a sweet smile, her braces flashing on her teeth. She was young, fourteen or fifteen, her innocent face framed by black hair and her eyes were a sparkling blue.

“Sheriff,” Deidre Cheshire nodded as I climbed out. She was the leader of the group, and not a bad fuck.

I reached out, brushing the tawny hair off her shoulder, my hand sliding down to squeeze Deidre’s firm tit through her dress. The amulet that hung between her breasts sparkled as the sun caught the jade.

“Me and my boys brought you some more food,” I leered.

“Thank you kindly, Sheriff,” she answered in her drawl. She looked intelligent, like a librarian with her glasses perched on her face, but then she spoke and all I could hear was the accent of a Texan hick. “Who’d do you reckon you’d like to fuck today?”

“Who do you think?”

Deidre’s smile broadened. “Lizzy, why don’t you take the Sheriff up stairs and show him some appreciation.”

“Yes, Miss Cheshire,” Lizzy asked. Such a polite girl.

She waddled up to me, smiling. Her breasts were riper, filling out her dress more and robbing her of some of that youthful innocence. I put an arm around her waist, giving her perky butt a grope. She giggled like a schoolgirl and my cock swelled.

“How you been, Sheriff Barends?” she asked as we walked inside.

“Aching to be in my Sweet Lizzy,” I grinned.

Her hand brushed my crotch. “I can tell. You feel backed up.”

I heard my other deputies claiming their favorite. Benny had both twins on his arms. The Black man loved those two. And Mason had Nelly and Mercedes, eager to enjoy a romp with mother and daughter. Those two were quite the whores together.

As we approached the farmhouse, Heather walked out, her belly almost as swollen as Lizzy. Her cute face was framed by red curls. I snagged her. “How’d you like to play with Lizzy and me?”

“I’d love to, Sheriff,” Heather answered.

With two pregnant teens on my arms, I was eager to have some fun. I don’t know who knocked these two dykes up, but I was grateful. There was something so exciting about fucking a pregnant teen. She was swelling with life, ripe and inviting. Her cunt had belonged to another man, but now I was enjoying her tight snatch.

Upstairs, we entered a small room. There was a bed and two mattresses on the floor. With thirty women living in the same house, the dykes were cramped for space. The three of us fell to the nearest mattress, sharing a three way kiss as their hands went to work undressing me.

“Oh, Sheriff, you always bring us the best toy to play with,” purred Heather as she pulled my pants and boxers off, my hard cock popping out.

She stroked my cock, a mischievous smile on her face, then she bent over and sucked my cock between her delectable mouth, working up and down on it. I groaned, stroking her face as Lizzy’s fingers worked the buttons of my shirt off, a big smile on her face, her braces flashing on her teeth.

Naked, I looked at the two girls, Heather’s mouth bobbing fast on my cock, and shook my head. “That won’t do, sluts. I’m naked and your fine bodies are still clothed.”

“You’re right, Sheriff,” Lizzy nodded, grabbing the hem of her loose, maternity dress, and pulling it over her head.

The teen was naked beneath. She was lovely and petite, her belly swollen and round. Her breasts were perky, up swept and topped with puffy nipples. Between her thighs, her pussy was a tight slit covered by a sparse, trimmed bush. I could smell her sweet excitement. My cock throbbed harder in Heather’s mouth.

“Let me help you, Heather,” Lizzy smiled as the redhead kept sucking me.

Lizzy reached beneath, unbuttoning Heather’s dress. She pulled, the shoulders slipping off to reveal Heather’s dangling, plump tits. A moment later, her round stomach was exposed. Lizzy kissed down Heather’s back as she pulled the dress off. When Heather’s ass was exposed, Lizzy bent down and began licking and sucking the redhead’s asshole.

Heather moaned in enjoyment around my cock.

I loved this. I had such power. I could do what I wanted to these girls and no one could stop me. I could even hurt them.

I froze. No, that wasn’t allowed. The Gods commands pressed on my mind. I couldn’t hurt them unless they were evil. And they weren’t evil, just hot, pregnant sluts. But grabbing Lizzy by the hair and dragging her about wouldn’t hurt her. Just like spanking her fine ass would only excite her. Every slut loved to be spanked no matter how much they cried.

“Stop sucking, slut,” I growled. “I’m ready to fuck.”

Heather lifted her mouth off. “Who?”

I stood up and grabbed Lizzy’s black hair, yanking her mouth from Heather’s asshole. She yelped in pain; my cock throbbed harder. I dragged her across the bed and smacked her ass. “On your knees like a bitch.”

“Yes, Sheriff.” There was fear in her voice. I savored it.

I knelt behind her, giving her ass another slap. The stinging crack resounded through the room. She yelped, my hand print red across her ass. I grasped my cock and thrust into her pregnant, teen cunt. She gasped, her eyes widening, thrusting back into me.

“Oh, Sheriff. You’re so big!”

“Just the way you love it, slut,” I laughed, pounding away at her snatch.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she moaned, looking over her shoulder at me. Her braces made her seem even younger. My cock throbbed inside her.

“What do you want me to do?” Heather purred, kneeling beside Lizzy. “My pussy needs some love, too.”

I smacked Lizzy’s ass again. “Then put this slut’s mouth to work.”

Heather laughed, crawling forward and rolling on to her back, her round belly rising up. She stroked it, spreading her thighs to expose a fiery bush damp with her excitement. Lizzy didn’t waste any time diving forward and licking her pregnant friend’s cunt.

“Oh, yes, Lizzy!” gasped Heather. “Eat my pussy! I love it! Your braces are so fucking hot!”

I gripped Lizzy’s hips, pounding the whore faster. My eyes were fixed on Heather. Her body shook, her stomach swaying and her tits jiggling. Rapture crossed her face as she humped her pussy into Lizzy’s sweet mouth.

“Fucking sluts!” I growled. “All the dykes here are just whores!”

“Yes!” Heather gasped. “We’re whores for you and your men. We love it when you come here and use us. It’s so fucking hot!”

I thrust harder, my balls slapping into Lizzy’s cunt. She was so tight, the walls of her pussy squeezing about my shaft. She milked me. Eager for my cum. Like a good slut. Praise the Living Gods for delivering this new world.

“I’m going to knock you both up when you pop out your brats,” I groaned. “I want your bellies to always be swollen and sexy!”

“Yes! We’ll be your broodmares!” gasped Heather. “Oh, fuck, yes! I’m cumming! Gods, yes, I’m cumming hard!”

Her juices squirted into Lizzy’s mouth, the slut drinking the down. It excited Lizzy. Her pregnant pussy grew even hotter, then convulsed about me. I loved it when a young slut came on my cock.

“Fucking whore!” I groaned, smacking her ass again. She was growing cherry red, gasping in pain and pleasure as her orgasm burned through her. “Take my cock! Oh, fuck! You’re such a whore! I’m going to cum so much in you!”

“Do it, please, Sheriff!” she gasped. “Give it to me! My pussy needs it!”

I buried into her. My cum pulsed out. I shuddered, spraying her cunt. Such bliss flowed through. A single moment of ecstasy. And then it was over and I slumped back. That lethargy feeling settled on me.

“Thank you for playing with us,” Heather giggled, pressing her pregnant body on my right.

“It was fun, Sheriff,” smiled Lizzy. She gave me a kiss, her lips sticky with Heather’s spicy flavor.

“Yes, it was,” I grinned. Her throat was so delicate. What would it be like to choke her while I fucked her. To hear her gasping for breath as I pounded her. It wouldn’t hurt her. People got off on being choked. What color would her face turn?

Maybe I would find out next time.


Deidre Cheshire

“Why did that asshole have to come today?” I groaned to Marybeth.

The cheerleader shrugged, her shoulders brushed by her black hair. “Murphy’s law, I reckon.”

I glanced back at the house and watched the Sheriff wander in, trailed by Lizzy and Heather. The two girls would keep him befuddled with their illusions. For the last month, the Cult had to put up with the Sheriff and his deputies coming around looking for sex. Luckily, most of his deputies were now women thanks to the Wormwood Plague. The Cult didn’t need to waste their power befuddling the women.

I smiled, it was fun to make love to the female deputies, and it added more power to the reservoir dangling between my breasts. But no man could ever touch us save for the Ghost. We were his women.

“Carla and the rest will keep them occupied,” Ursula agreed, stroking her round belly. The blonde cheerleader glowed these days. Marybeth’s arm was around Ursula’s waist as the pair leaned against the fence. They had been dating before they joined the cult.

I peered out at the long, gravel road that led to the highway. It was the only way to reach the ranch. I didn’t see any other cars on it and no dust clouds on the horizon. You saw the dust before you saw the cars. I glanced at my watch. Noel and her Patriots were supposed to be here a few minutes ago.

“She’s late,” I sighed.

“What if she doesn’t come?” asked Cheryl-Lynn. The teen was perched on the fence post.

“She’ll come,” Lynn objected. The former high school teacher looked calm. “She was quite eager to meet with us when we spoke in town last week.”

Contacting the Patriots had not been easy. The Cult had to resort to a spell, and even then Patriots had been cagey. It had taken over a month to earn their trust. Mark and Mary had the United States well under their thumb now, and the Theocracy was spreading its influence across the world, using the chaos of the Plague to their advantage. We needed all the allies we could get, and the Patriots were the only resistance in the US.

A line of light flared nearby, drawing a circle in thin air. I jumped in alarm, grasped my amulet, and readied to cast a defensive spell. Had the Theocracy found us? I had seen the Gods open holes in reality like this. I could faintly make out the bronze knife sawing in the light.

The circle completed and a hole appeared. Fog billowed on the other side of the hole in reality. Three figures stood in the mist. A blonde woman, her hair in a tight bun, clutched the dagger, flanked by a hulking, African American and an older man with graying hair. All three wore black, tactical garb, the two men holding assault rifles and the woman had a sword sheathed at her hip.

I blinked at that. A sword? I shuddered. It felt … evil.

They stepped through. “You’re Deidre?” the blonde asked.

“Yeah. You’re Noel?” I asked, stepping forward.

She nodded, her gray-blue eyes sweeping our farm. She tensed. “Why are there cops here?”

Her hand drifted down to that sword hilt and the men’s weapons came up. Fear shot through me. These three were very dangerous. And they were Warlocks. Only a Warlock could open a portal. No wonder the Patriots could fight Mark and Mary—they were just like them.

“It’s okay,” I said. “The Sheriff and his men like to come around and use us as their personal whorehouse.”

“But we bewitch them so they see what we want,” laughed Marybeth. “So relax, okay.”

Noel frowned. “You’re not Warlocks or Nuns or even Shamans. I’ve never seen blue auras before I met Lynn. We’ve been trying to puzzle out what that means all week.”

Our Auras were blue? I had no idea. “We’re Sorceresses,” I answered. “We worship a dead spirit. It’s similar to a Warlock’s Pact, but it doesn’t involve selling your soul.”

“We just give it to him,” sighed Ursula, stroking her belly.

“Him?” Noel frowned.

“The Ghost of Paris,” Cheryl-Lynn giggled. “We’re his cult.”

“I thought you were a group of lesbians. The Sapphicist?”

“That’s just what we tell them so they think we’re still following the Gods orders. Nothing the Gods have commanded says we can’t be lesbians who want to dedicate ourselves to their worship out in the pure countryside.”

Noel smiled. “So you want weapons?”

“As you can see, we have a Sheriff problem. And one day, things might get messy.”

“I think we can work something out.”


Tuesday, April 22nd, 2014 – Marissa Myers

I strode to the barn, my twin marching at my side. Lizzy, Heather, and Tammy followed behind us. “I don’t know about this,” Lizzy whispered.

“It’ll be alright,” I shrugged. “Shootin’ a gun is the simplest thang in the wor

“Our Pa taught us how to shoot when were only four,” Rhonda May added. My twin had an excited smile on her face. Her auburn hair fell loose about her shoulders. Her blonde highlights had faded away and she hadn’t been able to get more dye.

We passed Carla and the cheerleaders lugging heavy boxes out to the road. They were filled with mines that the Patriots had given us. They had also given us a collection of M16’s, handguns, and even a few RPG’s and grenades. We had quite the arsenal in the barn.

“We all need to know how to shoot,” I said as we reached the barn. Lizzy nodded, her face pale and she trembled.

“You’ll love it,” my twin added. “It’s excitin’ shootin’ a gun. Like that first time the Ghost touched you.” She gave a big, old smiled.

“I’m eager,” Heather grinned and Tammy nodded.

“I knew you’d be,” I laughed. “You’re a redhead.”

“And that makes me love guns?” the pregnant teen asked.

“Yep,” I nodded, pulling out an M16. My pa had the civilian model, an AR15, so I had some familiarity with it. The main differences was the selector switch. It could fire semi-automatic, like my pa’s could, but it also had a three round burst and full auto. “This is going to be fun.” I checked the breach and made sure there wasn’t a round.

“Safety first,” my sister said. “Always check to see if a weapon’s loaded. You do that by pulling on the breech…” She demonstrated, pulling back on the breach bolt. ” … and peering inside. Never look down the barrel of a gun, and never point it at someone unless you plan on shooting.”

“And keep your finger off the trigger until your ready to shoot,” I added. “Trigger discipline is important.”

“Wow, you two are actually competent at something,” laughed Tammy. The older teen picked up an M16 and gingerly pulled back the breach bolt. “I guess it’s empty.”

Lizzy swallowed, her hand trembling as she pulled one out of the case. She fumbled at the bolt and dropped it. The metal clattered on the dirt floor of the bar. Lizzy let out a scared shriek, jumping back.

“It’s fine,” I told her, putting a comforting hand on the pregnant teen’s shoulder. “You can do this. For the Ghost.”

She swallowed and nodded. “For the Ghost. Right.” Lizzy bent down and picked up the rifle.

My pussy tingled. There was something exciting about the pregnant girl holding the rifle. Sexy and bold and innocent all at the same time. I leaned over, our guns clattering as they bumped together, and gave her a kiss on the lips, my tongue brushing her braces.

“You’ll be fine, cutie.”

“Thanks, Marissa.” She took a deep breath and checked the breach without dropping the rifle this time.

“Okay, let’s go have some fun,” laughed Rhonda May.


Sunday, June 29th, 2014 – Marybeth Sargant

“My breasts are sore,” Ursula whispered, shaking me awake.

“Huh,” I whispered, shifting on the mattress I shared with my pregnant girlfriend. I was tired, clawing my way out of sleep.

I had spent the day setting up claymore traps and concealing them with an illusion on the south field. They were the last of the claymores we had gotten from the Patriots. There wouldn’t be any more. The Patriots were crushed back in early May by the Theocracy. By the pink-haired bitch Alison.

In a few weeks, all seven of the expectant mothers would give birth and then we were going to be able to summon the Ghost. But Deidre was growing paranoid that we’d get caught. Sheriff Fuck-wad, as I liked to call him, was out here every other day. He seemed to be obsessed with the pregnant girls, wanting to fuck them as much as possible before they gave birth.

And his fantasies were getting darker. I’m so glad none of us actually fucked him. He was whipping the illusions now as “punishments.” Sometimes he even choked them as he pumped away. I felt bad for those three teens he kept as sex slaves.

“Marybeth, my breasts really hurt,” Ursula whispered. “I think they’re full of milk.”

“Okay,” I whispered, snuggling against Ursula’s heavy tits. They had been big before she had become pregnant. Now I just loved to bury my face in them. Her swollen belly pressed into mine, her daughter giving a kick as I latched onto a fat nipple.

Her milk squirted into my mouth. It was delicious. Warm and creamy, with a sweet tasted that reminded me of cantaloupe. I sucked harder, eager to drain her every bit. My fatigue melted away. This was amazing. This was just delicious. I couldn’t wait for the Ghost to join us so he could drink Ursula’s breast milk.

Power hummed in the air. I had grown so use to channeling all my sexual energy into Deidre’s necklace, increasing our reserve of power. And this was quite the source of energy I was tapping as I suckled. I brimmed with sexual energy. It flowed into me with every suck and swallow of Ursula’s creamy delights.

“Oh, yes,” Ursula moaned. “That’s so good. Umm, you’re making my pussy so wet.”

I loved my girlfriend so much. She was so lucky to be one of the mothers. I greedily drank, reaching a hand between my thighs and rubbing my pussy as I nursed. Ursula tossed her sandy-blonde hair apart as she writhed in pleasure.

“So wonderful. I love you, Marybeth. Keep drinking. Oh, yes. You’re making me feel so wonderful.”

Good. I loved pleasing her. She was my favorite. I was so glad the Ghost pulled the stick out of her ass and taught her how to have fun.

Her breast ran dry. So I switched tits.

I sucked, more warm milk squirting in. I loved it. I could drink this every day for the rest of my life. Ursula stroked my black hair as I nursed, smiling down at me. I bet she’d want a taste. I sucked in a mouthful, then pushed up her body.

She smiled as I kissed her. I forced the milk into her mouth. She moaned, her tongue swirling about inside my mouth as she drank her own breast milk. Her thighs wrapped around my leg, her pussy smearing across my thigh.

She was excited.

“Do you need to cum now?” I asked her as she humped me.

“Uh-huh,” she panted. “It felt so wonderful when you nursed. The pleasure shot right down to my pussy. Would you make me cum?”


She stayed on her side, it was more comfortable to her. I kissed down to her breasts, pausing to take another drink. Then I kissed down her pregnant stomach. The Ghost’s daughter grew inside her. It was such a miracle.

I moved lower, Ursula lifting up her leg so I could get my head to her pussy. Her musk was overwhelming, stronger than her usual tangy flavor. I buried my tongue in the folds, slurping up all her delicious juices.

“Umm, the best thing to wash down your sweet breast milk is your tangy cream,” I giggled.

“I bet.” She grabbed my hips, pulling my pussy to her lips. My breasts pressed into her round stomach. I was almost bent around her curve so she could feast on my hot cunt.

Her tongue slid through me, teasing me. It spurred me to lick her faster and harder. I had to enjoy every bit of her. I sucked and nibbled on her labia, my tongue swirling through her pussy folds. She shuddered for joy, her pink hole clenching.

She nibbled on my clit. I gasped into her pussy, my pleasure swelling through me. I ate her harder, giving her as much joy as she gave me. I buried my face deep into her pussy, wiggling my tongue down her hole.

“Marybeth!” she purred into me, her body spasming. “Oh, yes! Oh, fuck!”

A flood of tangy juices poured into my lips. I drank them all down, swirling them through my mouth. She screamed and moaned about my clit, vibrating my sensitive nub. The pleasure shuddered through me, gathering in my core.

I came hard.

“You fucking slut,” I moaned. “Oh, yes! You always know how to give me so much fucking pleasure!”

“I’ll say,” Deidre purred.

“Hey,” I smiled, rolling on my back as the former librarian walked into the room naked, her jade pendant swinging between her breasts.

“How’d you generate so much power?” she asked in awe. “It was a flood.”

“Nursing,” I grinned, hefting Ursula’s tit. “There’s some left.”

Deidre smiled and leaned down, sucking hard. Her amulet flared as the energy pulled in. “Wow. That’s intense and delicious.”

Ursula giggled then winced, clutching her stomach. “Oh, wow.”

“You okay?” I asked her.

“Just a cramp,” she shrugged. “I’m sure it’s…” Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow. That is some cramp.”

“Are you in labor?” I asked. She was due in two days.

“Umm, maybe.”

“I’ll go get Doctor Savitri,” Deidre said. “I heard cumming can induce labor.”

Ursula laughed. “What a pleasant way too … oooh, my. Yes, go get the doctor.”

She squeezed my hand and my heart beat in excitement. The Ghost’s first daughter was being born.


Monday, June 30th, 2014 – Ursula Ayers

“You’re just so beautiful,” I smiled at the infant in her arms. Ten hours of labor was worth it to bring this beautiful creature into existence. “My precious Georgina.”

Marybeth sat beside me, holding my hand.

“Oh, she’s cute,” moaned Lizzy.

The entire cult was trying to enter the room, gazing down at my daughter.

“You’re so special,” I whispered to her. “You’re going to set your father free. He’ll be so happy to meet you.”

Georgina let out a mewling sigh, her eyes closed and her little fists balled up.

I beamed as I rocked her.


Wednesday, July 16th, 2014 – Sheriff Caleb Barends

I strode into the dyke’s farmhouse, my boots spattering mud on their clean floors. I didn’t care. I was the law of southern Idaho. The government was changing. Slowly the Theocracy was taking over, and I was more than happy to help them out.

It meant more power.

The dykes all smiled at me as I strode up. “Sheriff,” Lizzy smiled, cradling her newborn daughter in her arms.

What a pity her brat finally had came out. For the last two weeks, they had been popping out their mewling infants.

“Any of you whores still pregnant?” I demanded. I couldn’t get enough of defiling a pregnant slut. I had knocked up all three of my sex slaves, but they wouldn’t be showing for a few more months.

“Tammy,” Lizzy answered. “She’s upstairs waiting for you.”

“Good,” I grinned. “You dykes are learning.”

Today’s visit was spur of the moment. That urge to fuck one of the pregnant dykes set in while I was driving back from the border with Wyoming. We had a rumor that a group of denialist had been camping in the area. A lot of the devout Christians, Jews, and Muslims had taken to the hills, cutting themselves off from civilization to avoid hearing the Living Gods’ message.

We rounded them up and my men were processing them. They’d be taken to jail until the next broadcast. Then they’d be happy, productive members of society again.

One of the denialist women had been pregnant and it set my blood boiling. I couldn’t take a denialist. That’d be rape. But a member of the Living Church knew to spread their thighs when a man needed satisfaction. Even if they were dykes.

Tammy was naked on a mattress when I walked in. She was maybe seventeen or eighteen, her stomach swollen with her brat. Her sandy-blonde hair was fanned out on the mattress. She smiled at me like a whore as I dropped my gunbelt.

But I held onto my pistol, pointing it at her.

Fear crossed her eyes. I wouldn’t shoot her, but she didn’t know that.

“That’s right, cunt,” I grinned, my cock throbbing. “I could kill you and know one would care.” I wanted to pull the trigger, my finger itching, but I just couldn’t. That would be murder. I couldn’t find a way to justify shooting an unarmed, naked, pregnant teen. That went against the Theocracy’s commandments.

But I could scare her while I fucked her.

This was power.

She shivered in fear as I buried into her tight cunt. She was hot and wet, silk sliding about my cunt. Her fear made her even tighter. I pushed the gun up against her temple as I fucked her, reveling in the power I had.

“That’s it, slut,” I grinned. “Please me and you won’t die.”

“Yes, sir,” she sobbed.

I moved the gun lower, shoving the barrel into her mouth. “That’s it. Suck it. Worship it. One little squeeze on the trigger and bang!” Her cunt spasmed about my cock. “You’re dead.”

She nodded her head, her teeth scraping on the barrel.

“That’s it. Work that pussy on my cock and suck my gun.”

My balls boiled. I pumped her harder. I closed my eyes, the moment growing nearer. I shuddered and pulled my gun out of her mouth as I squirted into her. The pleasure was intense. She gasped and moaned beneath me.

“Fuck,” I groaned. My finger twitched. The gun barked. A woman gasped.

Tammy melted away, my cum spilling out on the mattress.


Carla Haroldson

Lynn’s tongue licked through my pussy while the Sheriff thought he was fucking Tammy beside us. I was drawing power from the pleasure Lynn generated in my cunt, channeling it at the pervert and creating the illusion.

It was disgusting what he was doing to the illusion, pointing that gun at her and shoving it into her mouth. Everyday, the Sheriff grew darker and darker.

He was cumming. I was glad, tired of—

The gun cracked.

I jumped, crying out in surprise, the spell melting from my thoughts as my heart hammered.

The Sheriff blinked for a moment, looking around, then he saw me. I used the illusion to reconceal Lynn and I, but it was too late.

“Warlocks!” the Sheriff roared, pointing his gun at me.