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... ples of shock and outrage through the assembled family.

"Papa!"

"Henry!"

The words were spoken at the exact same time, a look of disbelief from Anne and Augusta. Anne, her face blotchy and stained with tears, shot a look of pure venom at Delia.

"This doesn’t make any sense," she accused, her voice rising with anger.

"When did you two even know each other? How can you possibly be so smitten with one another after a single night?" She pointed a trembling fin ...

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[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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