THIRTY-SEVEN

I WAS LYING FLAT on my back on the auction block, my piercing cords excruciatingly tight around my head and mouth, and my chain tethered to Regret. I already knew that bad attitudes and actions —sinful things —caused spirit-world cords to grow from shackled people’s scalps, and chains were the heavy price of unforgiveness. Under immense pressure and with mere seconds to think, I stared at the leather band my father —the real one —had tied around my wrist, and I searched my battered soul, seeking against all odds to break free.

Regret loomed behind me. Strategywise, I needed my cords to snap first, then the chain. Regret would know it when my metal links broke.

What have I done?

Things came to mind, and I dealt with them quickly. Sincerely.

Forgive me for doubting you, God.

And for lustful fantasies.

And for lying —

Something popped against my cheek. A busted cord.

One more to go . . .

For being jealous.

And arrogant.

And impatient.

And communing with spirits.

That last one did it. Both piercing cords had fallen away from my face. I could see them now, dark and leathery on the cement by my head. Then they melted away.

I didn’t move a muscle, but Regret yanked on my chain’s links, spinning my body around so that my back was to the table now, my face inches from the Creeper’s three-toed feet. I closed my eyes and tensed up, anticipating some torturous punishment, but it didn’t come. Regret hadn’t noticed my missing cords.

All at once, the Creepers on the ground, in the trees, and in the air began to moan —a flat hum that made my skin crawl. Jackson whimpered louder now.

It was agonizing, lying there, unable to see him and helpless to protect him.

The old man had said he’d meet me here —where was he?

I had to focus. My last chain. Who could it be?

I’d already forgiven everyone I could think of. Everyone.

Oh . . .

Except the one person I could never believe deserved it.

But I had to.

Now.

I did it under my breath. “You forgive me for all the ways I’ve failed, God. So I forgive me.”

My last chain snapped in half and hit the cement so hard, I knew I’d be caught. I looked up and watched Regret yank its cuffed arm back, only to realize I’d broken free. It pressed its big head down over mine, ready to growl or hiss or do something horrible in my face, but Molek grabbed Regret by the throat and hurled it into the woods.

I scrambled to my feet, and Molek stared me down with squinted, scathing eyes, searching for bondage on me to grab onto. But there was nothing left.

He snarled, outraged, then started climbing straight up, reaching in the air and stepping as if an invisible ladder hung there —the rungs reaching to his throne.

Veronica repeated a chant in Latin, then reached toward Jackson. As Molek climbed at a supernatural speed, nearly to his throne now, I dove with all my might, attempting to grab Jackson. It felt like slow motion, battling to reach him before Veronica did.

With literally not a second to spare, I slid my hands up under Jackson’s small shoulders and pulled him to me, shielding his head between my chin and chest. And it was like Molek’s ladder crumbled out from under him. He slammed onto the cement platform, landing on the firepit, facedown in the flames. Veronica screamed, raging at me loud enough to send flocks of birds into flight.

But someone cried my name.

I turned, and Ray Anne stood at the bottom of the steps, her outstretched arms reaching toward Jackson and me. I ran to her, racing down the steps as fast as my feet would go, but she started pointing and shouting, “Behind you!”

I looked back. Molek was gone. But Veronica was coming after me, outraged, with a knife.

As the Creepers howled, I made it down enough steps to hand Jackson off to Ray Anne. “Run!” I told her.

Then I turned, ready to square off with Veronica —willing to be injured or even killed, if that’s what it took to bring her down while Ray and Jackson rushed to safety. I bent my knees and held my arms out, ready for her. But she sidestepped and ran past me at an incredible speed. After Ray Anne.

“No!” I sprang from the stairs and tackled her from behind, knocking her onto her stomach in the dirt. I worked to restrain her, but she rose up and twisted her torso with superhuman ability, jabbing the knife at me. For a fleeting second, her eyes met mine.

But they weren’t her eyes. Molek was looking at me. And I looked right back at him.

Fast as lightning, the knife sliced deep into my left bicep, and I wailed. Still holding the weapon, Veronica shoved me off her with the strength of a man. No, the force of a demon king.

“Ray!” I shouted.

She hadn’t made it far with Jackson. It would only take seconds for Veronica to catch them. Little more than that to end their lives.

I’d vowed I’d never fail to protect her again, but there was no time —not even to get on my feet.

No plan.

No defense.

No hope.

Nothing . . .

Except a name. The name that I’d been told held no power. By Molek.

It was all I had.

I yelled it, loud as I could.

Then watched as Ray Anne hit her knees, hunkering down, shielding the baby with her own body as Veronica closed in. But Veronica stopped. Slowly turned and faced me, a look of astonished fear on her trembling face. On Molek’s face.

“I told you.” Her possessed voice was unnaturally deep and threatening. “That word doesn’t work on me!”

I rose to one knee, clutching my bleeding arm. And said it again —“Jesus!”

Veronica grabbed her gut and winced. “It’s worthless! Powerless!”

I stood. Then shouted it once more.

Veronica started heaving like she might vomit. “Shut up!” Molek’s voice raged from within her. “That word is for the righteous, not for fatherless trash like you!”

There was no need to defend myself. No need to say anything at all. I didn’t have to. Veronica coughed and choked, falling to her hands and knees. A hooded Creeper spewed out of her chest, clawing its way down into the soil. Then came Molek, hitting the dirt, but quickly rising and standing tall.

Veronica struggled weakly to her feet, then took off into the woods. Not Molek. He stayed, scowling at me. “This land’s mine. You’ll never get me to leave!” Then he started running, lifting off the ground, racing toward his throne. But the ritual had ended, and no sacrifice had been made. He had no right to mount the throne above my land.

He knew it, and he attempted to trespass anyway. But the Kingdom of Light knew it too.

A battalion of armored Watchmen burst onto the scene, and two of the giants grabbed Molek by each arm, dragging him away, kicking and pleading. Another Watchman with the most impressive armored helmet I’d ever seen jumped high in the air and grabbed on to the hideous throne, yanking it down with one hand, hauling it off too.

Ray Anne ran to my side. The swarm of Creepers tried to flee, but in the blinding light, they collided with one another like giant debris in a tornado. Ray and I knelt on the ground and held each other, clinging to Jackson between us, trying to both warm his frigid body and calm him.

Then Custos swooped down behind us, kneeling and wrapping his long, sculpted arms around the three of us. There was sudden relief from the chaos of the supernatural battle. At first, I thought Custos had hoisted some kind of shield over us, extending from his armor like a radiant platinum canopy. But when Ray and I tilted our heads back, we saw that he’d covered us with a pair of colossal, magnificent wings, as big as those of a private plane. His wings.

I’d had no idea he had them —him or any other Watchman.

They arched up high and angled down near the ends, blocking us from the noise and smell of the Creepers like an impenetrable fort. I rose to my knees to get a closer look. The wings were covered in interlocked feathers —but not the wispy, delicate kind. These were as thick as steel and generated some sort of force field, conducting a current that swirled with electric-bright colors, giving off warmth that instantly soothed Jackson —and Ray and me too. We looked at each other, speechless, as the array of light reflected and danced across our faces and all over the ground.

I hugged Ray and Jackson, and Ray shed grateful tears. But we couldn’t stay like that forever.

When Custos eventually stood and stepped back, he was the only Watchman left. Then he rushed away too, leaving Ray and me alone with the baby in the bleak moonlight. The atmosphere had cleared of evil, but the ghastly firepit still burned. And my wounded arm . . . the pain hit me now, off the charts.

I gritted my teeth while asking Ray Anne how she’d found me.

“I saw the throne start to move, and it led me here.”

Unbelievable. The very thing the kingdom of darkness had intended for evil tonight had helped turn the tables for good.

I was losing blood fast and tried not to lean too hard on Ray Anne as we traipsed through the moonlit forest, headed to the back road where I’d parked my bike. In the surrounding woods, dogs barked ferociously. About the time I felt like I might faint, we heard a man shouting in the distance. “Put your hands up, now!”

A woman started pleading, and numerous men raised their voices.

Officer McFarland spotted us with his high-powered flashlight and came running over. “Are you okay?” He saw Jackson in Ray’s arms and exhaled. “Our canine unit tracked down Veronica.” He pointed over his shoulder. “She’s been apprehended.”

He noticed the blood gushing down my arm and radioed for an ambulance.

Using my good arm, I pointed in the direction of the auction block. “There were children in a cage over there. You have to find them.”

It felt like the ground was rocking. My weak knees folded, and I blacked out.