by Evie Rhodes
It was an eerie place to be. He was tired.
Maybe he should tell Wolfgang he couldn’t be the star boy anymore. He was not the Dragon Slayer. He could no longer trade pieces of his soul with killers.
The level of darkness he had stepped in had gotten to him. Then there was Raven. She had experienced ruthlessness at its deepest depths. And he couldn’t prevent it. She had become a target because of him. Used to place a stamp that would forever sear his soul, although she would never know the truth of that.
He was going to marry Raven and he wasn’t sure if he could continue to subject her to the terrors of his work. He wasn’t sure he could risk losing her, because at risk she would definitely be. She was a part of him. To have her wrenched away by an evil that was uncontrollable would be unbearable. It would rip him apart. How? How could he continue to risk her?
Serial killers were natural hunters. In this last case, he had been the hunted not the hunter. It had taken a supreme power to save him.
Every time he came up against one of them, he was always left with the feeling that someone had opened up his body, shook everything out, and left nothing but the shell. The killers left the imprint of their signatures indelibly stamped on his spirit.
He sighed. In the silence of the night, he was the only one that heard them, the cries of the victims, the raging of maniacs, the brutality slashed across a canvas in all its bloody gore. They plagued his dreams.
The truth was painful. It did not always set you free. It carried a burden, a dedication, and an obligation. The truth had transported him from his everyday world. It had set him in a realm that most people never see.
He should get out of the streets. He needed to get out with his mind, body, and soul intact. He needed to get out while there was still a chance to get out. His life was like an urban thriller.
But some things in life couldn’t be escaped. And some gifts couldn’t be refused. As he sat there in the darkened room with its vast ceilings, once again it was upon him.
A man screamed, howled and jerked in the spasms of agonizing pain. Again, a visionary manifestation in the flesh transported him to the scene. Like a caged bird on an airline flight, he was there.
Micah’s hand trembled with each slice of the knife, as it ripped and gouged the skin of the victim. Blood spurted as he carved out two trophies. He dropped them in a cellophane bag.
Tossed back into his own skin, frame by frame, shot by shot—in his mind’s eye he saw the latest killers prancing in their supreme arrogance. Leaving a trail that could not be forgotten. Silky, Shaughn, and Quentin. They represented the elite power of Criss Cross. They were by far the most sadistic, powerful killers he had ever witnessed. And in them had been damnation.
The lights came on in the vast room, shattering the darkness. The curtains rolled slowly shut. The audience rose from their seats in a hushed silence. The kind of silence you get when people are stunned and don’t quite know what to say.
Sirens shrilled in the distance. It was the symbol of vision and reality clashing. Micah stood up. He relived his recent descent into hell. Criss Cross was a quest for power at its most supreme. Criss Cross was an illusion, an image.
The greatest way to destroy a man was to create an image of a world he couldn’t live in, because in his mind, that world became real.
When he had stepped into Quentin and Shaughn’s illusions, he had had to tap into a belief that was rooted in the core of his being. He had tangoed with Satan. Face to face. Enough was enough.
The sirens were getting closer. Reality was racing toward him.
The ushers started down the aisles sweeping up popcorn and picking up soda cups. Micah watched the credits roll by for a story he had not seen. The only story he had seen was the one of his life.
The title, “Criss Cross” flashed in bright blood-red across the screen.
Micah shut his eyes. When he opened them the words were gone. The credits rolled normally. The soundtrack thumped.
He knew it would be a long time, if ever, before he got over Criss Cross. It was too personal and too close to home. It was a spiritual journey, a fight not of the flesh, but of the spirit. The prize at stake had been his soul. He had come face-to-face with damnation, and survived.
His cell phone rang. Micah clicked on.
“Micah, I need you on this. We have two dead rival gang members. They’re tied to a tree. Together. They’ve been cut up pretty badly. Their throats have been slashed.”
For an instant, Micah thought about getting out and saying “No.”
But he had been given a gift. He had to use it. The fight for justice swelled up inside him. He had tapped into the greatest belief in the world, and found it to be true. He owed a debt.
“You’re a good boy, Micah. Keep the faith.” The words of his grandmother touched his spirit.
“I’m on my way,” Micah said.
The path had been laid. He was a champion. He hadn’t seen the most powerful light in the world so he could turn away. No matter what he thought, there really wasn’t a choice. The choice had been made for him.
He’d received an extraordinary sight at the third level. Not merely a second sight, but a third. It was rarely heard of. He couldn’t run from the darkness. He had to stand up to it. That was how he had won the battle. Criss Cross was only the first round.
Wolfgang’s voice brought him back into focus. “Micah, there’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The gang members. Both of their eyes have been cut out. There’s a note that reads: ‘Eyes that see, but have no sight.’”
Micah tucked the cellophane bag in his pocket. He couldn’t yet see who he was.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
CRISS CROSS
EVIE RHODES
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are intended to enhance
your group’s reading of CRISS CROSS by Evie Rhodes.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1. Criss Cross is a power. Where is it derived from?
2. How did Evelyn develop agoraphobia?
3. How could Evelyn have handled her situation differently?
4. What criteria did Quentin use to select Evelyn to give birth?
5. Could Reverend Erwin Jackson have advised Evelyn differently in the beginning?
6. What was the one trait that was out of character for Silky?
7. How did Micah’s birth come about?
8. What was Micah’s salvation?
9. How was Micah affected by his dead grandmother?
10. What does the ending of Criss Cross mean?
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2006 by Eva M. Rhodes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina Books and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-0872-9