Augustine looks at him too long. Augustine fumbles the delivery, falters like John has said something properly horrifying and not just "her flesh has been honeycombed by evil bees," which— fine, yeah. It's not an ideal situation. Still.

It's practically a relief, when Faith breaks the tension by coming up rabid and swinging.

"Hey, easy," soothes God, as he flicks his fingers for Augustine to back off and give her space. She'll make a mess of the couch, but that's fine; he'll sort it out later. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

She hadn't been half this bad, that day on the beach. But she hadn't had bees in her bones, which could make anyone a little extra testy.

"I thought we agreed monsters weren't on the menu."