Page 32 of Deliver us from Evil

My body is ten pounds lighter as he grabs my hand and laces my fingers with his. I float behind him, barely touching the ground as he leads me down the stairs. I force myself not to look at the front door as we pass it, and my body complies.

A gust of wind slams raindrops hard against a nearby windowpane. And then he turns away from the kitchen.

My hope shatters like a glass trinket hitting a stone floor.

The hand around mine is suddenly too tight. He’s pulling me a little too hard.

“Father—”

I cut off with a pained sound as he yanks me after him. “You want to find the light?” he yells, glancing back at me with wild eyes. “I know just the place.” He turns again, and my heart sinks deep into the churning depths of my stomach when I realize where he’s taking me.

I kick back, scream.

He pulls at me until I’m close, and then grabs me. Slaps a hand over my mouth. All the while still walking toward the door at the end of a long passage.

Hidden away like a nasty secret. Even the keypad beside the door is flat and discrete. You probably wouldn’t see it unless you were close.

Gabriel keys in a combination—so fast, I only catch the first two numbers, 4 and 2. When he opens the thick door, the smell of damp earth and crawling things slams into me.

He slaps a hand against the wall, and the basement light flickers on. It’s not much—a bare bulb that only seems to solidify the shadows into something more sinister than before.

Gabriel brings me in front, an arm around my waist to keep me tight, a hand over my mouth to keep me silent. He forces me down the stairs one at a time. I struggle as much as I can, despite the fact that we could both take a tumble and land up with broken necks.

Especially when the sagging metal frame of my old single bed comes into view. Because then I know a broken neck is the only winning hand in this game.

I’d wondered about the lock on the basement before—the pilot light is down here, so we’d be stuck if he wasn’t around to light it again if it ever went out. But who was I to question Dad’s wisdom? His quirks and his rules? How could I, when Mom didn’t?

I’ve never been down here before. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed in the passage back there. The space is surprisingly small, until I realize the walls are soundproofed. Someone closed up this space on purpose. Turned a massive basement into a much smaller, more intimate space.

Someone? You know exactly who did this.

But my mind rejects the thought.

My old mattress is still on that rusting bed frame. There’s even a sheet over it, but its moth-eaten and stained.

And then I see my old potty trainer.

And then I see the ropes still attached to the bed frame.

I start kicking up my legs, twisting and wriggling, but it doesn’t help. Gabriel holds me with ease. His voice doesn’t even sound strained when he speaks.

“No better place to look for the light,” he murmurs into my ear, “than down here in the dark.”

And then…then I see the video camera.

Chapter Fourteen

Trinity

Iwish I knew a bible verse by heart right now. Or lots of them. Then I could choose the perfect one. Something Old Testament about going to hell for your sins.

Probably wouldn’t have helped. I mean, Gabriel’s a priest. He knows the bible back to front, and not one verse ever swayed him toward the light.

He shoves me away from him. My hands fly out and barely catch me against the plastic sheet lining the floor.

I scramble onto my back, ready to kick out if he comes close.

The room is small, claustrophobic even. The bed takes up most of the space. If I can distract him, I can try and get past him and up to the stairs.

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