Deliver us from Evil: A Reverse Harem Dark Romance Series (The Sinners of Saint Amos Book 3)

by Logan Fox

  Rube stops talking when Zach lifts a hand and points out his window.

  We all turn to look.

  “What?” I ask, peering at the house. The garden. The roof.

  “There,” Zach says.

  And then I see it.

  A For Sale sign.

  But I don’t get it.

  “He’s watching the house,” Zach says. “Trinity’s old babysitter said a young couple moved in across the road. No kids, but the house is big enough for a family of five.”

  “So they watch the house. Someone lets him know Trinity’s arrived. He comes and snatches her? And then what? Where does he go? And why?” Cass shakes his head. “What does he—”

  “We have to go back,” I say. “Back to her house.”

  Zach opens his mouth as if to argue, but then closes it again. Cass and Rube look at him, then at each other. Like there’s a telepathic conversation going on.

  It’s fine, I’ll wait them out.

  “He’s right,” Cass murmurs. “Everything leads back to that house.”

  “But the safe is gone,” Rube says. “What else could there be?”

  There’s a beat of silence. Then Zach says, “It’s not much…”

  I grin at him. “But it’s a start.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Rube

  My first and only foster family had a study in their house. One wall was lined with bookshelves and old, musty books.

  One day when my sisters were all at cheerleading practice and I’d been left alone for the first time in my new home, I was climbing up the walls from boredom. I tried watching television, but it didn’t hold my interest.

  So I explored the house, peeking into rooms I’d only caught a glimpse of before.

  The study fascinated me. It felt stale and unused—when I opened the door, dust motes shifted through stray beams of light shining in from the window. I felt like I was walking into a crypt.

  I went over to the bookshelf and worked my way through the titles. Some of the books stuck together when I tried pulling them out.

  Those I left alone, scared I’d damage them and get crapped out.

  But some came out a little easier. Titles I’d later learn to recognize, but which were alien to me back then.

  Alice in Wonderland.

  A Tale of Two Cities.

  Casino Royale.

  Great Expectations.

  I’ll never forget the smell of those books. Or how, when I turned the first page of Alice in Wonderland, I wondered why on earth an adult man would own a book like that.

  Since then, I’ve always been drawn to books. My interest moved to bibles when I decided to play the part of a pious kid on his way to becoming a priest as a way to get closer to Father Gabriel without rousing suspicion.

  Very little of that interest was feigned.

  I found solace in the pages of any bible I read.

  Cass is right—there’s no safe in this room anymore. But there is a treasure.

  Seems Trinity’s parents collected bibles. Mostly King James, but there’s a Geneva here too. I crack them open, hoping to find a clue, but they’re as barren as the big white one Trinity came to Saint Amos with.

  It makes sense—you’d destroy the value of the book by marking it—but a cheap mass-produced King James is just as empty.

  I guess the church was just a front for Trinity’s parents.

  We split up to search the house. Apollo found a door we assume leads to the basement, but it has a keypad. That combination should be the same one for the safe we can’t find. But Trinity never gave us the code. Apollo’s gone to look around the house and see if there’s another way inside the basement—maybe through a hurricane door or something. Cass and Zach went upstairs.

  I said I’d search the study. But there’s nothing in here. I crack open one more bible, but it hits the floor a second later when I hear a rip from upstairs.

  Apollo must have just come back inside already—he and Cass are in the main bedroom when I arrive.

  We watch, silent, as Zach digs his fingers into the edge of the carpet and yanks up another strip, baring the hardwood floor beneath.

  “Hey, Zach?” Cass asks quietly. “Whatcha doing over there, buddy?”

  Zach spins around in a crouch, staring at us with a lowered head. Eyes bright, wide. “You don’t smell that?” he spits out. He waves a hand. “It’s all over this fucking place.”

  I step forward, sweeping out and arm and using it to herd Cass and Apollo behind me, out of the way. “Smell what?” I ask.

  Zach rushes to his feet. He charges toward me, and I almost back up when I see the ferocity on his face. But then he goes right past us, shoves a hand into a closet that’s standing open, and drags out a sweater.

  He brings it to me, shoves it under my nose. “This,” he hisses.

  I turn my head away, but he follows with the sweater until I take a reluctant sniff at the fabric.

  When I snatch it from him and take another whiff, his shoulders sag. “It’s him.”

  Zach’s eyes slide past me, fix on Apollo, then Cass. “Our Ghost lives here.”

  The sound of ripping carpet fills the room. Cass joined Zach on the floor, and they’ve almost torn up everything. Apollo is by the closet, dragging everything out into a pile on the floor.

  Zach has them believing they’ll find another safe or something in here.

  I’m sure someone with as many secrets as Keith Malone had tons of hidey holes…but even if they do find another secret place, I’m sure it will be empty.

  I go through the nightstands. There’s nothing of interest in there—bible, tissues, lip balm, lotion. A half-eaten candy bar still in its wrapper on what I assume is Monica’s side, judging from the feminine scented lotions and creams, but it’s turned white from age.

  I almost don’t pick up her bible. None of the ones I’ve found have proved useful yet—why would anything be different up here?

  But just like some people can’t walk past a rose bush without smelling the blooms…

  The instant I lift Monica’s bible out of the drawer, I know it’s not like the others. For one, it’s been read before. There are faint fingerprints on the cover, as if she handled it after putting on lotion or cuticle oil. When I turn the bible so the spine rests in my palm and focus on the gold-trimmed pages, there’s a narrow section that’s been rubbed off from use.

  Behind me, Zach and Cass start discussing which side of the room they’ll start tearing up the floorboards on.

  I open the front cover. There’s a short message in an elegant script.

  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

  John 1:5

  Dear Monica,

  Let this book be your light.

  Love,

  Gabe.

  I let the bible fall open in my hands, hoping it will land where the spine was most often opened.

  New Testament. The book of Mark.

  No notes, no dog ears.

  I start paging.

  I reach the end of Mark. The faster I thumb through those near-transparent pages, the tighter my chest grows.

  Then I skim ahead.

  Luke.

  The forty-second book of the bible.

  I page furiously until I reach chapter eleven.

  It starts a quarter of the way down the left page, in the first column.

  Our father’s prayer.

  It’s been underlined several times.

  The word “forgiveness” was circled so hard it tore through the paper.

  I snap the book closed. Turn.

  My brothers are facing me. Zach is frowning, and as soon as his eyes dart down to the bible, he walks up to me.

  “Luke eleven,” I tell him, slamming the book into his chest.

  And then I’m bolting out the room, down the stairs, through the passage.

  4-2-1-1

  The basement door unlocks. I shove it open, take a step.

  But then the
smell hits me.

  I freeze.

  I’m still standing there at the threshold, staring into a black void, when the others arrive.

  “Fuck,” Cass mutters somewhere behind me. “There a light or something?”

  “Probably one down there,” Apollo says. “But, like, you’d have to find it first.”

  “Anyone have a flashlight?” Zach’s voice is tight.

  “Got one on my phone,” Cass replies absently.

  But none of us move.

  We just stand there, staring into the dark.

  Which is absurd.

  It’s just a dark room.

  A few stairs.

  If Cass gives me his phone, there’ll be light. Then I can go down there.

  But it doesn’t matter what logic my fucking brain throws at me, I override it every time with, “it’s a fucking pitch-black basement.”

  Maybe I wouldn’t have had an issue if Zach hadn’t told me that this was where our Ghost lived.

  Because then it would just have been a normal basement. A cavity at the bottom of a house. Nothing to it.

  But it’s not.

  It’s our fucking Ghost’s basement, and that changes everything.

  Apollo clears his throat. “So…uh…are we going down?”

  “Yeah, course,” Cass says, but as if he’s lost in a dream.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” The words come out by themselves—I wasn’t even aware I was going to speak.

  My skin starts crawling. I take a step back. And as if that breaks the spell, Cass and Zach and Apollo all move back with me.

  We press up against the wall, staring at the rectangle of night in front of us.

  Cass fidgets in his pocket. Pulls out his phone. He turns on the light and shines it at the hole.

  It’s like it hits an invisible door someone painted black.

  Fuck.

  “Okay,” Apollo whispers. “Look, it’s just a room, right?”

  He takes a step forward. Then another. I stare at him, taking in his long blond hair, his lean frame. He puts his arm out behind him. “Phone.”

  In that moment, I’ve never had greater respect for him.

  And he doesn’t even look back. Doesn’t take even a second to see what we think. He just grabs the phone as soon as Cass puts it his palm, pushes back his shoulders, and heads for the darkness.

  The second it swallows him, the three of us surge forward and cluster around the dark doorway.

  “Apollo!” Cass calls out, like he’s convinced Apollo’s already been murdered.

  “Yeah?” With the phone shining ahead, he’s a starkly contrasted silhouette. The beam of light from the cell isn’t as powerful as a flashlight, but it chases away the shadows long enough for Apollo to pick out a few shapes in the darkness.

  Stairs.

  Plastic flooring.

  As soon as he reaches the ground, he points the light across the room.

  “Mother of God,” Zach murmurs.

  “Nope,” Cass says, sounding like he’s about to get sick. “Try, Father of Hell.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Apollo

  I wonder if they can see how much I’m shaking? I’m holding Cass’s phone as tight as I can, but there’s nothing I can do about the way the light shimmies and shakes all over the place.

  If my brothers weren’t all standing there at the top of the stairs, I wouldn’t even have thought about setting foot down here.

  Yeah, it’s just a basement, but come on.

  It’s as much a basement as we’re a bunch of friends.

  Every inch of this place is dripping sinister and oozing malevolence. I suddenly wish I had some kind of biblical training so I could exorcise this place and be done.

  But instead I have to creep around and look for a damn light.

  I find it, eventually. It takes me a lot longer than it should have, but that’s because I can’t stop looking at everything else in here.

  The bed.

  The teeny tiny little toilet.

  The camera on its stand.

  Especially the camera.

  But I can’t think electronics right now. This isn’t the time to veer off on a tangent.

  As soon as I spot the string for the light, I tug it.

  Light blooms, but the way that swinging lightbulb makes the shadows dance and weave is giving me the heebie-jeebies.

  “Okay, guys, it’s safe!” I call up.

  I don’t dare turn my back, because I know how that ends. So I just back up a little as I wait for them to join me.

  But they don’t.

  And when I finally have enough courage to look behind me, I see the terror on each of those three faces.

  Crap.

  Why the hell did I have to choose this moment to be so damn stupid?

  “Really?” I purse my lips. “Just me then?”

  “You’re doing so well, buddy!” Cass calls out. “Just keep going.”

  I shake my head, throw them the finger, and go back to staring at the room. “What am I looking for?”

  They don’t answer, because I guess it’s obvious.

  A fucking clue, idiot.

  But like…what?

  Hair? DNA? Fingerprints?

  Or stuff like whether the bed was chosen at random or for specific child molestation purposes?

  The camera catches my eye again, and I realize why.

  I know there won’t be a tape or anything inside. I mean…duh.

  But as soon as I make a beeline for it, Zach calls out, “Leave it alone, Apollo, the rest of the room is more—”

  I throw him another zap. “You wanna micromanage me, then come down here and do it yourself,” I yell up.

  “There won’t be a tape in there,” Rube says.

  “I know,” I say, drawing out the last word. “But this is…”

  I trail off, rolling my eyes. Every time I talk tech, my brothers’ eyes start glazing over. Only Cass humors me every now and then, but I doubt even he would understand.

  This camera is old. Like the eighties old. But it’s in amazing condition, especially considering the fact that it’s been in this damp basement for God knows how long.

  I want to take it off its stand, but I’m sure there are all sorts of fingerprints on it. Luckily I’m wearing long sleeves today—I pull them over my hands and use them to pop open the cassette compartment.

  “It’s empty,” I call out.

  “Told you,” Cass says.

  But then I turn the camcorder around, and frown. Under the fat sans-serif type of the brand name, there’s a slanted word in script. It has the eighties jagged feel to it, like ACDC’s logo.

  LIMITED EDITION

  Right. Got it.

  My brothers step aside so I can come out of the basement. Cass puts out a hand to stop me. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

  “Library. Or internet cafe, whichever comes first,” I tell him. Then I hold up the camera for them to see. “Unlike the van, this thing is one in a million.”

  “How’s that going to help us?” Rube asks as I start walking away.

  “Don’t know yet,” I call back. “But I’ll let you know soon as I figure it out.”

  Cass drives me to the local library while Rube and Zach stay behind in Trinity’s old house. I’m not sure that’s the best idea, seeing as how Zach flipped out earlier, but I guess if they do rip the whole place apart it might end up being all cathartic and shit.

  I don’t really care.

  I’m too focused on how this camera is going to help us find Trinity.

  It doesn’t look like the kind of tech that’s been in use since the eighties. It looks like a camera you buy on eBay at a ridiculous price because it’s vintage, barely ever been used, and has some of its original packaging.

  I’m hoping it’s unique enough to have left a trace I can find quickly and easily.

  And if it’s not? Well at least I’m keeping myself sane and not constantly adding to my rather inventive list of
things someone evil could be doing to a pretty girl like Trinity.

  Cass watches me over my shoulder, but unlike Rube or Zach, he doesn’t ask me what I’m doing every two seconds.

  I’m grateful for that. I never mind explaining shit, but right now it would just slow me down.

  Instead, he lets me get into the zone, and once I’m in…

  “You should blink,” comes his voice.

  I sit back, shake my head, focus on him.

  “What?”

  He points at his eyes. “You have to blink every now and then. Keeps them moist.” He stretches out his arms, jaw cracking with a yawn. “Let’s get a coffee and a smoke.”

  “Dude, I was right…” I shove my palms over my eyes and massage my eyelids. “I was in the fucking zone.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re going to develop a hunch if you keep sitting like that. And I can’t be seen hanging around with hunchbacks.” He slaps my thigh. “Come on. Up and at ’em.”

  God.

  I look back at the computer. I can’t even remember what thread of a thought I was following before he so rudely interrupted me.

  We’ve been here twenty minutes, and the only thing I’ve discovered so far is that this camcorder isn’t as unique as I thought it was. They’re all over eBay.

  I follow Cass to a food truck, but I wave away his offer of a burrito with my coffee.

  I need blood in my brain, not my stomach.

  Cass is halfway done with his burrito and I’m halfway done with my cigarette when a cloud passes over the sun. I squint up, staring at the gray-tinged cloud and its now radiant halo of golden light.

  “How did Rube figure out the code for the basement?” I ask Cass.

  He shrugs. “Don’t know. Said something about a bible verse.”

  “I know, I was there.” I roll my eyes. “What does it say?”

  “Fuck knows.”

  I pull out my phone. “Do you remember what it was?”

  Cass stares into the distance, chewing ponderously. “Luke…something.”

  I give him a deadpan stare. “Really? Could you try harder?”

  “Why?” Cass crumples up the burrito’s packaging and overarm tosses it into a nearby trash can. “It worked.”