Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(85)

I shook my head. No! This wasn’t Jacob. It was Dylan. I needed Jacob.

“Sara,” he said more emphatically, pulling on my hand. “Can you stand? Oh my God! I heard him. Get up. I need to get you out of here.”

My eyes, filled with questions, opened.

Before I could process the idea that Dylan was taking me away, I gasped. Inches from where I lay, right in front of me, were the dark eyes that had looked at me with intense hatred. No longer did they send fear through my body. They were open and lifeless while around them Brother Elijah’s black skin sagged and spit dripped from his partially open mouth.

Painfully I jumped to my feet.

“Oh! He’s . . . he’s . . .”

“He’s dead,” Dylan confirmed, tucking his gun back into a holster I remembered he occasionally wore beneath a sports jacket. “And we need to get out of here.”

“B-but.” I couldn’t articulate as my stomach cramped, doubling me over and bending my knees.

“No, Sara. No fainting. We need to leave now.”

I nodded, petrified to leave but terrified to stay.

Dylan seized my hand and pulled me toward the door. Just as my slippers hit the marble and I left behind the carpet that was now literally red with blood, I stopped. When Dylan’s panicked blue eyes met mine, I said, “Fred! We can’t forget Fred.”

Immediately, I knew my mistake.

“Brother Dylan,” I said, trying to recover, “wasn’t that what you called the fish?”

For a millisecond his panicked expression changed and his eyes narrowed. And then, instead of speaking, he rushed past me, into the office, and grabbed Fred’s container. Securing it in one hand and my hand in his other, he led me through unfamiliar hallways, pulling me until we emerged into the backyard.

“We need to get down to the outbuildings. There’s a car down there. There’s no way we can leave from the front of the house.”

I gasped at the darkness. With the only indication of light coming from the pool, the expanse before the outbuildings seemed insurmountable. I stood unmoving, my midsection cramping and the reminders on my back still sore.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I’m not sure if I can make it.”

He gripped my shoulders and spoke slowly. “Listen, Stella, I know you f*cking remember. I also know I need to get you out of this house. We don’t have any choice. I’m sorry that I’m not as big as your damn husband, and I can’t carry you all the way, but if we don’t move now, there won’t be a later.”

I didn’t understand what Dylan was saying, but the urgency in his voice was loud and clear. Even though I’d blown my charade with Fred’s name, it seemed like with whatever was happening at this mansion, leaving with Dylan was my best option. I nodded, bit my lip, and ran through the pain. I concentrated on my footing, careful of the wet, slippery grass, made that way from sprinklers. By the time we reached the outbuildings I was clammy with perspiration and my slippers were soaked.

I waited as Dylan disappeared into the building where Micah had stayed. The still night hung heavy with a feeling I couldn’t identify as I searched the sky for stars that were more visible during the dark season at the Northern Light. Looking up to the heavens, I knew the feeling I was having. It was an impending sense of doom, and it was getting closer with each passing minute. The opening of a garage door caused me to turn and face the far end of the building.

“Get down here!” Dylan yelled.

Standing still after running had intensified the cramps, yet I pushed past the pain and made my way to the SUV that he’d pulled out of the small garage. It was older than the one Brother Elijah drove and reminded me of one of the vehicles I’d seen nearly a year ago in Highland Heights.

Dylan opened the back door. “Get down on the floor. If the cameras at the gate are still working, they won’t be able to see you.”

Loud, angry voices cut through the thick, humid air, coming from Father Gabriel’s mansion. Momentarily I turned back, peering through the darkness toward the mansion.

“Get in, now!”

Dylan didn’t need to tell me again.





CHAPTER 32


Jacob


“You were told what I’d said to the Commission?” I asked Abraham. My fried brain couldn’t remember who’d been present when I’d told my story, but I thought it was only the Commission.

Abraham smugly turned in my direction. “I’ve been told lots of things—things about here, Fairbanks, phone calls, and the Eastern Light.”

I turned away, watching rows of small trees clear to large areas of open land to be swallowed up again by trees. As the landscape passed by the windows, I tried to assess what he was saying. “Congratulations,” I finally replied. “You’re apparently in the know.”

“You’d better hope whatever it is Father Gabriel wants you to find is out here.”

Abraham stopped the truck and pushed the button for the garage door. After he pulled inside the pole barn and as the door was going down, I turned in his direction. “Wait a minute.”

Abraham’s eyes widened as his brow furrowed.

“He has it, doesn’t he?” I asked. “Father Gabriel already has it. Someone went through our apartment while I was at the Eastern Light and found it, or came out here. What the hell am I doing out here if he already has it?”