Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(11)

Shaking his head, he cast his eyes toward the altar, the sun shining through the stained glass window bathing his face in reds and golds. "We fight it with any means necessary. We bring God back to this town. But we're only a few people in a world of billions. What power do we really have?"

On the outside, I was without expression, my posture contemplative and morose. But inside, I was beaming, a brilliant light blistering out through the fissures of my innermost shadows. "We have God's power, do we not?"

His eyes snapped to mine. "Yes. Yes, we do."

I canted my head to the side. "His power is greater than anything in this world, is it not?"

"It is," he answered, the worry written across his features sharpening until resolve set into the creases of his face.

"However," I acquiesced, "there is one slight issue we cannot control, one small problem that would prevent us from achieving what we need to survive."

Waiting silently, he didn't move a muscle. So focused and attentive that he appeared frozen in place, he was a tightly spun ball of need just waiting to be unfurled. I had to be careful which string I plucked. "The law, as it stands, would not agree with our methods - the old methods - of dealing with such a threat. Without God in our government, what can be done?"

I shrugged a shoulder, breaking our stare to cast my gaze toward the front doors. So full of anticipation that it had become a vibration beneath my skin, I forced my breath into a steady rhythm.

"My brother is the law around here," he said, drawing a smile from my lips. Finally, he'd said exactly what I needed him to suggest.

Schooling my features, I returned my attention to him. "Your brother is the Sheriff, correct?"

He nodded in response.

"Why do you bring that up?"

"Perhaps he could turn a blind eye. Keep our activities off the radar, so to speak."

It was difficult - damn near impossible - not to clap my hands together and praise God for the direction this conversation had turned. Well, not God so much, but myself. I had been the one to lead Gentry to this point. Divine guidance was isolated to my hand alone.

"Your brother is a Godly man?"

"You know that to be the truth, Father Hayle. He attends your parish every Sunday when he isn't working. He's as attached to the family farm as me. If there is a solution, he'd be willing."

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out, pausing just long enough for the thought to settle in. "He wasn't here last night," I pointed out. "He hasn't seen the truth of what's infecting this town."

"So, we'll show him. If he sees it with his own eyes, I can guarantee he'll do whatever is necessary to save this town. We've been here for generations. Our blood is tied to this land, our fathers, our grandfathers. I have no doubt at all that he'll understand once he sees the truth of it."

Tapping my fingers against my thigh, I met his stare for several seconds before inclining my head.

"I believe I can set up a demonstration. But not here. I tell you what: why don't you come out to a special place I've acquired, a secret place I've been using to help the town? It's hidden away, tucked discreetly behind walls to keep out prying eyes. I believe you should see it before we bring your brother into the mix."

Bringing Gentry to the compound was a risk - one I was willing to take, if for nothing else but to gain his utmost alliance with my mission. He was the only man to approach me after witnessing the demonstration with Eve and, through him, I knew I could gain the compliance of the town.



Slowly but surely.

Baby steps.



"I'm willing to see whatever you need me to see, Father. I'm done with being blind."

My smile reached my eyes this time. "Good, Gentry, that's very good. You should come tonight. I'll ensure that the family is ready to meet you."





EVE


Left in Elijah's room once again, I sat on the bed. My dreams eluded me every time I attempted to remember them, a feeling inside me that something wasn't right. The days blended into the nights, the hours passing quickly and so slowly at the same time. Elijah was angry with me, but I didn't know why.

My stomach churned as I thought of food, my eyes blinded to whether the sun was high in the sky or setting over the horizon. I couldn't see past the black cloth tied over my face, couldn't move due to the restraints used to keep me in bed. Elijah hadn't offered me breakfast, hadn't worried for my needs after allowing me to use the bathroom just once before he left to tend to his duties.

Drifting through what felt like molasses, I shook my head when sleep escaped me, casting me out into some dreamless state where I was floating within clouds of consciousness, lost to everything around me. The room was deathly quiet, the darkness invading me until I was hovering above myself looking inward until I questioned whether I was dead or alive.

Kicking my foot every so often, I brought myself back to the present, but as time passed, I slipped again into the ether, my mind conjuring images that I wasn't sure were fake or true. My arms yanked at the ropes binding my wrists, the burn of the twine pulling me from the abyss to remind me I was here on this bed awaiting his judgment.

He'd been angry when we woke this morning, untrusting, uncaring, and for the life of me, I didn't know why. Didn't I give him everything he asked of me? Hadn't I helped him in every way he needed? What had I done to deserve the restrictions he placed on me now that we lived in this new place?