Love your neighbor as yourself. Is that possible?
Could I love or even forgive Mr. Peterson? Christ forgave the people who murdered him. But I will never forgive the man who killed Mom. I will never forgive Mr. Peterson for what he did. Both deserve to rot in Hell.
I don’t think I can be a Christian.
“Uh, well,” I stutter. Matthew waits for a response. “I mean, I don’t want to have to choose. I just want to be left alone.”
It’s a cop out. I know it. Matthew knows it. I pick at my fries that now taste like dirt.
“Huh,” Matthew grunts through a huge bite of hamburger. He chews for a bit and continues. “You’ve seen there are two sides to the battle, and you’ve decided to be on the fence. After what we experienced, do you think that’s a smart choice?”
Just what is everyone fighting about? And why do I have to be involved?
“I don’t want to be in a battle.” My voice is harsh. I take a couple of deep breaths.
Don’t lose control of your anger.
“Doesn’t matter what you want.” Matthew dips a fry in some Ranch. “When Eve ate the apple, the battle started. There is no gray, no fence to walk on. You are either on the good side or bad side.”
“If I leave everyone alone, everyone will leave me alone,” I repeat my mantra stubbornly.
“Like they did at the mammoth bones?” Matthew jabs back. “Hey, here’s my number. Text if you like. I’ve been a Christian all my life, and I’ve never seen anything like that. You pop up, and I’m in the middle of a battle between spiritual warriors, and I can’t help but think you’re the source of it all. That demon wanted you for something, and that angel protected you from it.”
I don’t see the point of choosing sides. But Matthew’s words make me squirm. I push my plate away. Battle or no battle, I just lost my appetite.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Orders
Rob paused outside of the Camas Cafe and caught the sight of Nic. He was eating with a guy about his age. He approached the large angel who stood guard over Nic. Rob raised his hands to signify that he wasn’t planning to attack.
The angel responded by drawing his sword. He didn’t make any more movement, but there was death in his hazel eyes. The streetlights hit the angel’s blond hair. Rob swallowed. He had faced angels before, but this one terrified him.
He walked up with his hands still raised in the air so the angel would know he wasn’t going to attack. The angel wasn’t going to drop his guard, though.
“I’m not here to start anything,” Rob assured. “I have something I need to tell you. Eli is your name, right?”
The angel didn’t respond. Then, after a time like he was having an internal debate with himself, he nodded.
“I’ve been ordered to gather the other vampires,” Rob continued. “There’s going to be a war here. It starts tonight.”
“We know,” Eli said tersely.
“Look, I shouldn’t even be here.” Rob shifted. “If they find out I’m talking to you, they’ll hand me over to the demons as punishment. But this war... It’s coming, and it’s going to be bad.”
“We’re ready.” The answer was as short and tense as before.
Rob groaned. The angel was stubborn and not listening. “No, you’re not!”
That got the warrior’s attention. He glared at Rob.
“You’ve got to get them to pray,” Rob said urgently. “You’re too weak to face what’s coming. Even if you survive this night, even if he survives this night,” he waved at Nic, “your forces are still too weak. Get them to pray before it’s too late!”
“Why should I listen to you?” Eli asked. “This could be a trap. You are one of them. You’re not to be trusted.”
Rob wanted to sag against the building, but he remained where he was. Despair washed over him once again. He chose his next words carefully.
“I never chose this life, and I hate what I am.” Rob paused. He wasn’t sure if he should ask the question he longed to. He wasn’t sure if he could voice it. “Did I lose my soul? Is there no hope for me?”
The angel stayed silent.
Rob continued, the words now gushing out. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I don’t have to be like this. I was forced into this life, even though I fought as hard as I could. But I don’t know if I can ever be loved by God again.”
Eli regarded him for a minute as if searching deep within him. “I see pain in you, young one. You tell the truth, and for that, I am sorry. But you are still one of them.”
“Yes.” Rob winced. “But I don’t have to like it. Now I must do my bidding. Please listen to my warning.”
Eli nodded.
Rob began walking away and then stopped and faced the angel once more. There was something else he had to ask.
“And please watch over the girl.” He hated the way his voice broke. “Please. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.”
Eli nodded again. “A great warrior watches over her tonight. She will not be alone.”
Rob turned away again, anguish washing over him.
“Wait, young one,” Eli called.
Rob glanced over his shoulder, not wanting the angel to see his torment.
“You think you lost your soul,” Eli said, “but that’s not the truth. The Devil is your Master. He holds your soul. It isn’t lost.”
Rob hesitated. Not lost? Hope flooded him, banishing the grief he felt a few minutes ago. Is it possible that I can break these chains?
The vampire nodded as thanks and left. Eli’s words stayed with him so much that he almost forgot his orders. Is there really hope? Maybe. Not tonight. But hope began to grow in him like a tiny seed coming to life.
* * *
Blaise dove into the tunnel on the edge of Florence and glided down the long passageway, delighting in the dark and earth around him. The small shaft opened up to the large cavern where the castle was built. The red glow from the center of the earth eased the painful glare on his eyes and made him feel more in control.
He soared through the large, iron-bar gates of Goddard’s castle and landed in the large courtyard. He turned to his lackey.
“Go get the others,” he hissed. “Quickly and quietly! Meet me at the tree line beside Florence.”
“Yes, sir,” the demon snapped and shot off to the castle.
Blaise tried to look causal as he waited on the edge of the courtyard, but he was tense and eager to leave. He watched the other demons for signs that Goddard knew about his plan. It was risky coming for the others, but he wanted to have them at his back in case the meddling angels tried anything.
Several smaller demons hustled out of the castle and to the gate. They grabbed the large iron bars and began pulling. Blaise pushed himself off the black rocks he was lounging on and marched over to them.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “I know of no orders to close the gates, and I would know if there were.”
One creature stopped pulling and turned to answer. “Our lord commanded that upon your return, the gates were to be closed until he gives orders to open them again.” The vile fiend leaned closer to Blaise and whispered, “The rumor is that something big is happening tonight.”
Blaise landed a punch on the irritating imp that sent the smaller demon flying through the air. He smashed into the bars and slid to the ground.
“Idiot,” Blaise spat.
A loud click of the lock filled the air. He was too late. Only the word of Goddard would unlock it.
Blaise couldn’t think of one excuse that Goddard would get him to open the gate. He was trapped, and Liam would get his way with the boy.
His rage boiled as his troops gathered behind him, confused and ready for battle. There was only one way out of there. He turned to his soldiers.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Claws
I mull over Matthew’s words as I drive home, paying little attention to the road or the threat of deer grazing by the asphalt.
; Why doesn’t everyone leave me alone? I don’t want to fight. I just want to be left alone.
I pull into our driveway, the hamburger now feeling like a rock in my stomach, and slam on the brakes. Instead of feeling relieved that I’m home, the condition of the house terrifies me.
The porch light is on, illuminating the doorway. Long claw marks on the frame make it look like some wild animal slashed it before smashing the door to tiny pieces of wood. All the lights in the house are off, except one shining down the hallway.
I don’t wait to turn off my car. I throw it into park and jump out. Something inside of me tells me to wait and go with caution. Whoever did this might still be in there. Rushing in would be a bad idea.
Maybe I should call for help.
I glance back at the car where my phone is on the passenger’s seat.
But what if Ryan and Aunt Kate are in there dying? What if my hesitation delays me so much that I lose any chance of saving them?
I don’t care what happens. I have to know what’s going on. I race to the steps and bound up them, only to stop by a section of the front door hanging by a small piece of the hinge.
Just like the camper by Florence.
Slivers of wood lay at my feet. I force myself to enter. My stomach twists as I know what I face. The darkness looms up so strong that I can barely see. I fight it off and move forward.
I take a few steps. It’s impossible to move quietly with wood crunching under my feet. It looks like an earthquake hit. The walls closest to the stairway are bare, and the pictures that filled the empty spaces are now smashed and on the floor.
Claw marks gouge the wall, leaving a trail for me to follow. No animal would leave a methodical trail around the house.
This is no bear.
I make it to the stairs and start climbing. My finger traces the claw marks as I ascend. A loud creak fills the air. I pause with a bit of weight on the step. I have never noticed any squeaking before.
I put more weight on the stair, flinching when it protests with a long, loud groan. If anyone is in the house, they will know exactly where I am. My finger sinks into the marks. I wince.
A vampire.
But which one?
The shadows shift around me. I pause, certain the demons are here ready to pounce, but nothing happens. I take a few steps forward.
Catherine?
I have never seen her do anything violent.
Other than the sound of my feet, eerie quiet fills the house. I wish I could hear some moans or something to tell me Ryan and Aunt Kate are still alive.
Rob?
No. I can’t imagine him doing this.
I reach the top of the stairs. The light I saw from the driveway shines in Ryan’s office. Something is ahead. I know it.
This is how I felt when Mom was killed and when Mr. Peterson drew his gun. Evil is here, and I’m in the middle of it without any defense.
Liam!
There was raw evil about him. He liked hurting. He enjoys the kill. And he didn’t like me.
I inch toward the office. I can’t stay away even though I fear what I’ll find. Images of Ryan and Aunt Kate’s lifeless bodies sprawled across the floor with blood mixing with white into a ghastly pink fill my mind.
I brace myself for what I might see and open the office door.
Chapter Sixty
Don’t Need Pretty
The lamp from the desk is the only light in the office. Normally it makes the dark wood, the books, and the nature scenes feel warm.
Now the glow falls on harsh, red blood. I just stand in the doorway, not really able to take in the horror. Bookshelves are smashed on the floor, and shreds of paper from books litter the floor.
Glass from shattered pictures is ground into the carpet. Claw marks line the walls. Glass fragments mix with the blood on the floor from the shattered cases that held Ryan’s more expensive swords. Some of the swords rest outside their sheaths while others dangle from the brackets.
Blood covers everything I see. The red liquid drips down the walls to the mess of books on the floor. It pools up and stains onto the white carpet. It slides off the silver blades to make small ripples in the puddles.
Red blood mixing with white.
I push the darkness aside with all my rage and step farther into the room. A path of carpet untouched by red leads to the desk where a white paper has been placed under the lamp. I step carefully so I don’t touch any red.
This much blood. Where did it all come from?
I shove down the question. I don’t want to know that answer. If it’s Ryan’s and Aunt Kate’s blood, then I am too late.
The familiar copper smell fills my nostrils. In an instant, I’m back beside Mom’s lifeless body, holding a hand that will never feel mine again.
Don’t go there.
I grit my teeth and press my lips together. I won’t lose control. I’ve got to find out what happened to them first.
I tread a path to the desk. One piece of paper lies on the desk, surrounded by a lake of blood.
My hand shakes as I pick it up carefully so I don’t touch the red liquid. The writing is red like the pen was dipped in blood.
Florence
L.
My fingers clench into a fist, crumpling the paper.
Liam has them. He took them to Florence. But are they alive?
White-hot fury blinds me. I throw the paper on the floor, but before I storm out of the room, a piercing sound fills the room.
The phone!
I freeze, unable to decide if I should answer it. I let it ring. Ryan’s voice fills the room with cheery directions to leave a message after the beep. I wait. There’s a beep and then a voice.
“Uh, Ryan? Are you there? Pick up if you are. This is Joe.”
Megan’s dad! And from the sound of it, he doesn’t sound good.
“Just calling to see if Nic made it back from youth group and if he’s seen Megan. We got home from Lewiston, and she’s not here.”
My heart stops beating for what feels like an eternity.
Did Liam take you, Megan?
I remember him leering at her, and I’m sure the vampires don’t want people knowing where the house is or what is in it.
I’m an idiot for letting her come with me yesterday!
I take a deep breath and try to calm down. Maybe she’s out with Tyler. As much as I hate the guy, I hope that’s where she is.
“I guess I wouldn’t be worried, but someone broke into the house. The front door is smashed into pieces. The police are on their way right now. Sure would be nice to know if she’s still at youth group, but I can’t get anyone.”
You’re not out with Tyler, are you?
I groan and then burst into a run. I’m through the door when I realize I have nothing to fight Liam with. Spinning on my heel, I go back into the office.
A weapon. I need something.
He has his guns in here somewhere, but there must be a hidden case because I don’t see them anywhere. My heart pounds as I scan the walls.
I don’t know how to use a gun, but I know one weapon. I skim the swords, discounting the ones soiled with blood.
In the far back corner of the office, a sword still hangs on the wall as if it was forgotten when the attack was made on the room. It rests on two brackets in the wall. I can’t remember seeing it before. The unadorned sheath looks more functional than ornamental.
That’s fine with me. I don’t need pretty for what I’m going to do. I’m not going to a dance. I’m going to cut off Liam’s head.
Ignoring the sticky liquid on my shoes, I dash to it and grab it off the wall. I pull it out of the plain sheath and grin when I hear the sound of metal sliding against metal.
Something about the weight of it in my hands, or the fact that I now have a weapon, makes me feel good. I don’t care what happens to me, but I will make Liam pay for whatever he has done.
Running a finger down the edge of the blade, I smile when I feel that it’s sharp. Goo
d. I slide the sword back in with force and bolt from the office before I think about it too much. I leap into the car to head toward Florence.
By the time the sun comes up, either Liam or I will be dead.
Chapter Sixty-One
No Worries
It’s happening again, and I can’t stop it. More people are going to die because of me. Am I going to have to add Aunt Kate, Ryan, and Megan to my list of people who I’ve seen killed?
Maybe I can stop it. I stopped Cody. Maybe I can save them before Liam does anything horrible.
I consider praying, but I can’t shake the feeling that God won’t care to listen or help me if I’m not part of His group. The pavement winds through the woods as I drive as fast as I dare.
I hit the brakes and slam to a stop. I don’t even bother to pull off the road. I pick up my cell phone. God may not listen to me, but I know someone He will listen to.
I still have service. A bit.
I don’t dare call. That would lead to questions that I can’t answer right now. My fingers slip as I text, forcing me to take more time than I want to delete and fix the errors.
Matthew, nothing to worry about, but I could use some prayer tonight.
I pause and glance at the sword on the seat next to me. I know how to phrase it and start texting again.
Thinking about what you said tonight about having to choose sides.
I hit send before I think about it longer.
I reach over and pull the sword to me. I slide it onto my lap where I can grab it if I need it.
My phone vibrates, making me jump and my heart race.
Sure thing, man. I’ll pray God gives you wisdom and strength to make the hard choices. Call if you want to talk.
I’ll take strength. Strength to chop Liam to pieces. But the wisdom for hard choices is a waste of time. There are no hard decisions to make. All I have to do is find Liam and kill him.
I swallow hard. I can’t think about what I’ll do if I find they are gone. With the amount of blood in the office, that possibility is more probable than finding them alive.
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