“If he doesn’t bring my beloved back to me, I’ll kill everyone,” Lillith snarled. The minions shared a menacing grin.

“What is it with you idiots, anyway?” Angela asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always getting these truly terrible characters together, thinking everything will be peachy-keen, and then, for some reason, you’re surprised when it isn’t!”

“Is it so wrong to hope for the best in all situations, Little Sister?”

“In the middle of an Apocalypse?” Angela rolled her eyes, “Um, yes, yes, it is.”

“Apocalypses are so common-placed,” Blake brushed aside her concerns. “With your future husband around, they’re as common as a sneeze.”

“And ‘God bless you’ is about as useful,” Winters muttered.

Blake felt his skin cringe. “Uh-oh,” he muttered.

“Yes, my love,” Winters said, “I felt it too.”

“Uncle Blake?”

“Something just happened.”

“What?”

“A shift. A seismic shift.”

“And it will not be peachy,” Winters added.

“Nor at all keen,” Blake grumbled.