Page 53 of Deliver us from Evil

“Father Gabriel. He moved into their old house. I guess the estate put it up for sale, but I never saw a board outside. And I’d have noticed—they’re going up all over the place! Why, we had a young couple move in right across the road. Big house for just the two of them. You’d think they’re planning to fill it, but I don’t know. The woman looks closer to forty than thirty.” Langley shrugs, as if the fact that she’s rambling isn’t having any effect on me.

It is.

I’m about to have a heart attack if she doesn’t tell me what I need to know. “Gabriel is living next door?”

“Yes, yes he is. But he’s hardly ever here. Still, so much better than living next door to a stranger, wouldn’t you say?”

I don’t say anything.

I turn and I run the fuck out of that house like the devil himself is breathing down my fucking neck.

They’re here for Trinity, not Gabriel. Somehow, they got the address for her old house. That’s why they parked down the street.

But if Gabriel bought the property, who the fuck knows what kind of traps he laid out for unwanted guests?

I run, and I don’t stop.

I plow right through Langley’s roses, ignoring the thorns that prick at my skin, and I race across the next-door neighbor’s lawn.

But I’m too late.

Cass is up front, about to try and open the door. Fuck, maybe he’s even going to try knocking first.

Reuben and Apollo? They’re straggling behind, fuck knows why.

I’m closer to Cass than they are, but I’m still too far away.

All I can say is, thank God for Miss Langley’s lemonade.

When I grit my teeth and push, I go a little faster. I clear the hedge separating me from Cass like an Olympic hurdler.

I crash into him just as the door opens.

Just in time to see Trinity’s shocked face.

Just in time to see the shadow deeper in the house.

A man, lifting a gun.

Because of course he has a fucking gun. Why wouldn’t he?

Cass and I go over another rose bush. He’s yelling. I scramble up, dart back to the door.

Trinity is still standing there, blocking me. She doesn’t seem to realize she’s about to die.

It’s better, not knowing.

As soon as I shove her out of the way, that gun is on me. Pointing atme. I know I’m already dead.

And the knowledge sits there like heartburn in my brain. It tries to overwhelm me, to render me useless through fear, but I shove it away even harder than I shoved her away.

I sprint down the passage. Three steps, and I’m there. Staring into a pair of brown eyes that should recognize me, but don’t.

When I slam into Gabriel, the gun goes off.

But it’s fine, because it doesn’t hurt. I’m still moving, still fighting.

I herd him backward through momentum and rage. Pushing, pushing.

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