The Defiance

by Laura Gallier

  She and I brainstormed one intervention strategy after another, but they all had gaping flaws.

  Ray Anne lowered her head and sighed. “Who am I to try and help anyone right now, anyway? I can’t even help myself.”

  I looked around, suspicious. Sure enough, I spied a Creeper next to a dumpster, its gaze fixed on Ray Anne. “That thought didn’t come from you, babe.” I pointed to the liar. “He hit you with that.”

  We threw away our trash and left.

  The sun was beginning to set as I pulled up to Ray Anne’s. She invited me inside, I think so we could pray, but I stayed outside when I spotted that infamous diaper box, tattered and jostling behind the bushes. The two predators had dared to move their “home” a few feet from Ray’s door.

  I pointed to it. “They keep coming back because you allow it. Let’s command them to go once and for all and throw that box away.”

  She winced. “But they need shelter.”

  I sighed. Here we go again.

  “Ramus was out here yesterday,” she said, “and he didn’t seem bothered by it. He just glanced at the box, then took his usual post on the roof.”

  “Because he expects you to deal with it. Watchmen leave certain things to us—the things we can stand up to ourselves. They step in and help when we need it.” I’d witnessed it more than once.

  “We’ve had such a good day. Can we please not argue about this?”

  “But you’re not using your head, Ray Anne.”

  She put her fists on her hips and told me I had no business telling her how to handle the situation, which of course, made me defensive. “’Cause you think I could never have more spiritual insight about something than you?”

  It went downhill from there. We shouted back and forth—until that unholy mix of death dust and black grit came billowing out of our mouths. Our mouths—the last two people on earth who should be guilty of helping Molek regain his strength.

  Before we had time to even discuss it, two of Molek’s fat brown bats descended on us and sucked the stuff out of the air, then flew away.

  “Ugh!” I punched the brick wall, skinning my knuckles. “We just made Molek stronger.”

  Ray Anne tossed her hands up. “See? I told you it wasn’t worth fighting about.”

  “You’re totally missing the point.”

  We were both panting and tense, ready to keep defending our stances, but we couldn’t afford to spew out more nourishment for our opponent. We had no choice but to shut up.

  Neither of us brought up praying. Or said we were sorry.

  I walked away, battling heart-pounding intensity—my own flaring temper intensified by Strife’s proximity. I lowered onto my bike, about to slide my helmet on, when a realization came to me. I called out to Ray Anne as she stood eyeing me from her doorway. “Hey, do you remember what Veronica told you the day you first met her? The prediction she gave you?”

  She grimaced. “Something about me having kids, even though I’d just found out I never can.”

  I flinched, surprised by how bluntly she’d spoken of her infertility. I cleared my throat. “Veronica said you’d have twins someday.” I nodded toward her two identical Creeper pets. “Think about it.”

  Slowly, and finally with some hesitancy, Ray Anne stared down at the box.

  “Veronica was possessed,” I said. “She was telling you evil’s plans for your future.”

  If that didn’t make Ray Anne reconsider the situation, nothing would.

  I was walking my motorcycle out of the driveway when a spotless red Ferrari parked against the curb in front of Ray Anne’s house—same model and color as the one I’d seen in the woods at the human auction. When Dr. Bradford exited and stood next to his car, I dismounted my bike. He told me hello, then called out to Ray Anne, “How’s Jackson?”

  She managed to say, “He’s fine. He’s not here.” Thankfully Mrs. Greiner hadn’t made it home with him from the zoo yet.

  Dr. Bradford approached Ray Anne, dragging half-a-dozen chains up the driveway, holding what looked like a small piece of paper. “Please, I want you to have this. It’s the least I can do.”

  He handed Ray Anne the paper—a check. She unfolded it, then mumbled like she could hardly read. “Five thousand dollars . . .”

  “My grandson should lack for nothing.”

  “He doesn’t,” I said, walking back to Ray Anne and crossing my arms.

  Dr. Bradford eyed me with confident ease, sporting high-dollar gray slacks and a navy-blue sports jacket. “What do I have to do to convince you that I care and am trustworthy?”

  Ray Anne clung to my arm.

  “I can tell you,” he said, “I have many regrets. I would do things much, much differently if only I could, starting with my misguided admiration for your grandparents, Owen.” He angled toward me. “It took me far too long, but I finally came to see them for what they really were—manipulators who preyed on me during my most vulnerable, impressionable time in life. I was a young man starving for parental acceptance and guidance.

  “And it’s true, I got caught up in the supposed power and vitality offered to me, only to someday realize I’d bought into a terrible, pernicious lie.” He teared up. “I admit I’m still searching for truth. For redemption, if such a thing exists. But I’ve turned my back entirely on that society and severed all alliances. Steadily, daily, I’m becoming a new person, forging new loyalties.”

  He made it sound so easy, like all he had to do was tell the occult, I quit. “They just let you walk away?” I asked.

  He glanced over his shoulder, a common gesture in this town. “It’s been extremely difficult and risky. I’m so grateful for your mother, Owen. Susan has been an invaluable source of advice and comfort.”

  Did he really just imply that my mom had been open with him about her childhood, about her involvement with and escape from the occult? “My mother never talks about anything related to her past.”

  “She does to me.” Dr. Bradford touched his chest as if he was speaking from his heart. “I believe it’s been as healing for her as it has for me.”

  Ray Anne was teary-eyed, like she was buying all this. I admit he looked sincere, but I wasn’t willing to go off appearances. Or be a coward. “Are you willing to tell us everything you know, like what happened to the missing Masonville kids?”

  He took a big step back and shook his head. “I got out before the abductions. I know nothing about that.”

  It occurred to me my next question could end up costing me my life, just like questioning had cost Officer McFarland his. Poor man. “Tell me, who is Veronica Snow’s handler? You’re bound to know.”

  He shifted his weight and wiped his forehead, now beading with sweat, then leaned and whispered in my ear. “I suggest you never speak of her handler again.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “If you have so much regret, how about you help expose the criminals around here?”

  He whispered again. “If you value your life, you’ll stop seeking him out. That man shows no mercy to anyone who poses a threat to his anonymity.”

  A quiver swam the length of my body. As strongly as I considered Dr. Bradford to be a liar, his words of advice rang true. I knew Detective Benny was dangerous, but maybe he was even more cutthroat than I suspected.

  Ray Anne tried to give Dr. Bradford his check back, but he refused it.

  “I hope to see my grandson soon.”

  He drove away after that, but Ray Anne started heaving like she had asthma. “I told you he was going to try to get visitation with Jackson! And Owen, it’s not our job to confront Veronica’s handler. She can stand up to the detective herself. That’s not our battle to fight.”

  “But it is, Ray Anne.” I wiped a strand of hair away from her clammy face. “Veronica said her handler has been issuing orders, rallying covens across the US to work against you and me and Elle—anyone viewed as a threat. And he’s vowed to kill Veronica if she doesn’t go along with it all. He’s the human force leading Molek’s
charge against us. The person enforcing the Rulers’ agenda.”

  “And you believe Veronica?”

  “Yes. I mean, I think so.”

  That was just it. I didn’t know what to believe. Veronica Snow, Brody Bradford—two corrupted people claiming to be remorseful and caring all of a sudden.

  It was one thing to question and scrutinize the motives of spirit-world beings that appeared to bear light, but trying to sort through mixed signals from humans was proving even harder. And Ray Anne, the one person I would normally lean on to help me make sense of things, was trapped in her own whirlpool of confusion.

  She burst into tears, as fragile as a teacup. “This is too hard.” She collapsed onto her driveway and dug her fingers into her scalp, sobbing as loud as I’d ever heard her.

  I dropped down and tried to get her to look at me. “Sweetheart, please listen.”

  “I can’t! I can’t!”

  “Shh.” I rubbed up and down on her back, trying to stop what looked to me like the onset of a panic attack. And hoping I could ease her out of her fear-ridden state before . . .

  Too late. I wasn’t surprised the kingdom of darkness had dispatched forces in immediate response to the distress call Ray was broadcasting for countless miles through the spiritual atmosphere. But I was startled by who they sent.

  TWENTY-TWO

  BACKED BY A MOB OF CREEPERS, Veronica stood at the edge of Ray Anne’s driveway, draped in a black hooded robe that reminded me of the Cosmic Ruler witch. I had no way of knowing if it was a Creeper disguised as her or her astral-projecting spirit. Either way, she wasn’t welcome here.

  Ray Anne was still on the ground, sobbing with her head down, and any second, she was bound to smell the Creepers, then see Veronica and freak out even more.

  Veronica took steps toward us, and I jumped to my feet. “You can’t come near us.”

  She kept advancing.

  “In Christ’s name.”

  She stopped like she’d rammed a brick wall.

  Ray Anne lifted her head, and I tensed up, anticipating a full-blown meltdown. “Who are you talking to?” she asked me.

  What? I looked between my girlfriend and the evil entourage. Veronica was standing directly in front of Ray Anne, within ten feet of her, with a row of Creepers towering behind her like linebackers. I pointed. “Look!”

  “At what?” Ray said.

  Veronica stared me down, her words dripping with contempt. “Your pathetic girlfriend crossed a line and has lost her senses.”

  “What’s going on?” Ray Anne gasped between sobs.

  “Tell her, Owen.” Veronica formed a lethal grin. “Tell her Eva’s been at Jackson’s crib, and here I am again, but now she’s such a weakling, she can’t see me anymore. And warn her that Mother Punishment will be here soon to take Jackson. There’s no protecting him—or the thirteen cowards you know full well you cannot save.” She snickered.

  Mother Punishment. That had to be the two-faced witch.

  I took a big, bold step forward. “In the name of—”

  I hadn’t even finished when Ramus’s armored feet slammed the driveway behind Ray Anne and me, his jaw tight with fury.

  Veronica arched her back and hissed, then scurried back, escaping behind the wall of Creepers. That’s when I noticed they all had the same assignment on their mangled faces: Suicide. They had the nerve to advance, tiptoeing forward while huddled shoulder to shoulder like they were terrified but had been ordered to do this. Their nightmarish eyes were missile-locked on Ray Anne, who sat with her face buried in her hands.

  Ramus tilted his head down and looked straight at me, pleading, it seemed, for me to do my part. I quoted a go-to verse I’d seen beat back the enemy before: “I’ve been given authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and overcome all the power of the enemy. Nothing will harm me.”

  “Or Ray Anne,” I added.

  Trample on snakes . . . why hadn’t I paid attention to that before? Now wasn’t the time to analyze it.

  Ramus leaped forward, up and over Ray Anne and me, and shoved the two Creepers in the center of the pack, yet the whole line of them slammed backward onto their crooked spines, screeching like hogs snagged in a trap. They scattered in every direction, fleeing so fast, they looked like black streaks.

  Ramus paused to look over his shoulder at Ray Anne, gazing at her with sympathy. Then he flew straight up, racing into the early evening sky.

  Ray Anne wiped her cheeks. “I know I’d better stop complaining before I draw the enemy here.”

  I lowered beside her, slowly this time, dreading the news I had to deliver. “They were here. Right in front of you. So was Ramus.”

  “No . . . that’s not possible.”

  “I think your fear is sabotaging your senses, like my deception weakened mine a while back, only your senses are gone completely.”

  She trembled all over, still hunched over on her driveway, too distraught to cry now.

  “We’ll get through this,” I assured her.

  “No.” Dread covered her face. “I don’t think I can live like this much longer.”

  “Ray Anne . . .”

  Did she mean that? And had she really just said the exact same words Gentry had today?

  The unanimous assignment I’d just seen on all six Creepers was way more serious than I’d thought. Those Suicide devils weren’t just here taunting Ray Anne. They were getting to her, maybe at times when I wasn’t around to witness it. “You’d never hurt yourself, right?”

  “I . . .” Her hesitation freaked me out. “I hope not,” she said. “But promise me no matter what happens to me, you’ll protect Jackson.”

  I was so stunned, all I could do was press my hand over her mouth and silence her. That kind of hopeless talk could lure a mass of Creepers from zip codes away—ten times as many as the horde that Ramus had just run off. Of all the people I needed to be concerned about, Ray Anne was at the very top of my list now.

  We spotted Mrs. Greiner’s SUV approaching, and Ray Anne hurried to stand, wiping her blotchy face and tightening her ponytail before her mom saw her and figured out something was terribly wrong.

  I faced my girlfriend. “This is serious, Ray Anne. I’m extremely worried about you.”

  “Not now.”

  Mrs. Greiner pulled into the driveway and exited her vehicle. “How are you, honey?” She made a beeline for Ray Anne, and as usual, hugged her longer than hugs generally last.

  “I’m good.” Ray Anne avoided her mom’s gaze. “How was the zoo?”

  “We had fun. Are you sure you’re—”

  “Owen and I had an awesome day. I’m just tired, Mom.”

  I’d never seen Ray Anne lie outright before. She opened the door to the back seat of the SUV and started unstrapping Jackson, talking to him in a high-pitched, motherly tone. Her voice cracked, though, her distress seeping through.

  Mrs. Greiner stood next to me. “Spending time with you today was obviously what she needed.”

  I nodded, knowing it was a dishonest gesture. I hadn’t managed to encourage her one bit, not really.

  Ray Anne pulled Jackson into her arms, then flashed a fake grin at her mother and me, bouncing Jackson like she didn’t have a care in the world—as if she could still see perfectly well into the spirit realm and hadn’t just confessed to me she was entertaining giving up on life.

  “I’m gonna reheat some leftovers for dinner,” Mrs. Greiner said. “Owen, you’re welcome to stay.”

  Ray Anne’s dad arrived and parked his truck behind the SUV. He told Ray and me hello before catching up to his wife at the front door.

  I stood close to Ray Anne in the driveway, torn in two like a thin sheet of paper. I knew what I needed to do, but Ray Anne would be furious with me. Maybe enough to break up and never speak to me again. But from what I could tell, her life was on the line.

  I had just seconds to decide whether or not to act—to drop a truth grenade or keep it to myself, undetonated.

 
I decided that, as deadly as grenades can be, they can also save lives.

  I cleared my throat, but it didn’t make the nervous lump go away. “Mr. and Mrs. Greiner?”

  Ray Anne’s mom stopped just short of going inside and faced me, her husband right behind her. Ray Anne flashed wide eyes at me, silently begging me to keep quiet.

  “I think your daughter is suicidal.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  ONE LOOK AT RAY ANNE’S PAINED FROWN and I knew that of all the things I’d ever done that had disappointed or hurt her, I’d never wounded her like this. She’d given me no choice, but I still felt like a traitor. Like I’d betrayed my best friend.

  The next two hours were a stressful mess as the four of us sat facing one another in the Greiners’ living room, Jackson rolling around on the carpet while Ray’s tearful parents asked one pointed question after another. Ray Anne kept downplaying things, trying to ease her parents’ concerns and keep them out of her business, which obligated me to recite things she’d said and done that pointed to a need for intervention—all while being careful not to slip up and mention any spirit-realm factors.

  It felt like I was on the witness stand, testifying against my girlfriend. Ray Anne refused to look at me.

  In the end, her parents insisted she move out of her garage apartment and back into her old bedroom in the house for now, where they could keep a closer eye on her. And Mrs. Greiner went online right then and made Ray Anne appointments with not one but two counselors. Tensions were high—so high that Creepers kept poking their hideous heads into the house and scoping out the scene, but none was willing to set foot in a den of Lights.

  There was that tantalizing scent that always filled the air when the Greiners—a shackle-free family—were all together, but that wasn’t enough to lift Ray Anne’s mood, even a little.

  Come to think of it, with her senses disabled, she couldn’t even smell it.

  She finally looked in my general direction, and there was no disguising her scowl of contempt. I could only hope she saw the compassion on my face.

  Mrs. Greiner said she wanted to be alone with her daughter, and about that time, Jackson started throwing a fit. I did something I never thought I’d do. I offered to take the playpen thing to the church and watch Jackson for the night—you know, to give Ray and her parents a break. Ray Anne didn’t like the idea of parting with him, but she might have felt differently had I told her that “Eva” threatened that Mother Punishment would be here soon, coming after him. And Ray wouldn’t be able to see her.