Prologue

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Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes.

- Ephesians 6:11

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He ran a hand down his face. Sighed like the world was pressing on his fingertips.

There was an itch running down his arms and through his soul. It was something that had been present for a long time and would be there even longer.

She'd been dead for nearly ninety years and he couldn't let her go. Not her silver hair or purple eyes or the way she could make his soul literally shiver. Christ, he missed her. They all did.

Isabelle cried a lot. Losing a sister was something he never thought would happen to him, not his family. Not her. Not his little sister who couldn't even breathe an incantation before she'd been torn from his arms. It was God's way of punishing him, he was sure. For what they'd done and the things that had yet come to pass. 

He just wished it had been him God had taken, not her.

Not their very soul. 

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