The Gift of Light: (Revised) (The Gifts Book 1)

by Jen Gentry

  “You’ll pay for that, Marta Farta!” they said, using Bradley as their mouthpiece.

  Staniel sheathed his dagger as he looked over at Emily. She appeared a little shaken, but otherwise fine. He turned his attention to the warrior in front of him.

  “Liam, my brother, you have my gratitude for saving me once again.”

  “Think nothing of it.” Liam continued to stare after Bradley and the minions of Azelius. “We must find prayer coverage for the boy. He is dangerously close to possession.”

  “I will talk with Gemma about him. She will pray, as always.”

  “That would be good. I must return to Perry House. It will soon be time for me to pick up Emily from school.”

  The large angel nodded as he lifted himself on mighty wings and disappeared.

  Chapter Two

  You followed the ways of this present world and its spiritual ruler. This ruler continues to work in people who refuse to obey God.

  Ephesians 2:2

  God’s Word Translation

  The rest of the school week passed quickly for Emily, her days filled with classes and homework. She felt a little less out of place after Liam took her shopping for the required school uniforms, khakis and polo shirts. Most of the other students were distant, but not unfriendly. There were others who openly snubbed her. They were the old richies according to Marta.

  Old richies were more self-important than new richies. Marta was a New Richie. As such the old richies snubbed her, too. Marta spent an entire afternoon explaining the distinct difference between the two groups.

  “Old richies come from families who have always been rich. A new richie, like me, comes from a family that has not always been rich. My dad and mom are software engineers who started their own company. The money came later for them. That makes us newly rich. My dad says that we have more money than some of the old families here, but that doesn’t matter. We are all God’s children anyway, but Bradley’s family is old rich.”

  Marta explained that most of the families in Hook Pond were wealthy, but the super-rich snobs didn’t attend public schools past junior high. Those children would leave Hook Pond to attend prestigious private schools.

  “All the better for us,” Marta stated.

  “What about you, Marta? Are you going to leave for a private school?” Emily dreaded the thought.

  “What? How could I leave my best friend behind? Besides, my parents have good old-fashioned values. They don’t want strangers raising their children. The truth is, both my parents would be lost without us close to them every day.”

  Emily felt a great relief knowing her new best friend would not be leaving her behind anytime soon. Bradley Steel hadn’t bothered the girls since that first day, but Emily often felt his cold eyes when they settled on her in class or in the cafeteria. A chilly shiver went down her spine as she thought of him now.

  Today was Friday, and Marta had invited Emily for a sleepover at her house. Aunt Gemma had been a little reluctant, but gave the OK after Liam spoke with Marta’s parents. Both girls were excited when Marta’s mother picked them up after school. Amy Sims was an older, more sophisticated version of her daughter with the same soft brown eyes and straight brown hair cut in a flattering style around her face. She smiled wide

  “At last! Marta’s done nothing but talk about you all week long.”

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Mrs. Sims.” Emily gave the woman her best smile and climbed into the backseat.

  “Call me Amy, honey. That title is reserved

  for my mother-in-law.” She gave her daughter a

  knowing smirk at the mention of Marta’s

  grandmother.

  “Come on, Mom. Gran isn’t that bad. Dad says she means well, you know.”

  Amy made a funny face at Marta in the rearview mirror and both girls laughed with glee as they drove away from the school parking lot.

  The Sims’s house was an amazing massive yellow Victorian trimmed in white scrolled woodwork with a beautiful wrap-around porch. To Emily it looked like a giant dollhouse.

  Marta took Emily by the arm and practically dragged her through the house and up the stairs to her room. Done in shades of lavender with a canopy bed draped in a pastel rainbow of colors, it was every young girls dream. In one corner sat a white desk with a laptop computer, and on the far wall hung a large flat screen TV.

  Emily felt overwhelmed by the sheer size and space. The room was almost as large as the whole of Aunt Gemma’s cottage.

  Marta flopped on the bed. “Well, Miss Emily, what shall we do first? We can watch a movie, play video games or ... you can try on all my clothes and let me do your hair.”

  “Oh, let’s do that.” Emily knew her friend loved to dress up.

  Later that evening, after trying on every outfit in Marta’s closet, both girls went down to dinner. Emily got her first look at the family as they assembled in the large dining room.

  Marta’s older brother, Patrick, was in high school. He was not here tonight, but attending an out-of-town basketball game. Her younger brothers, Matt, a happy seven-year-old and three-year-old Tommy, sat at the table, smashing toy cars together. Marta’s father sat between them, reading a paper.

  The whole scene was a casual chaos that Emily, being an only child, found endearing. Amy brought in buckets of take-out chicken and the girls took a seat. Marta’s father, James, put down his paper, smiled and winked at the girls as everyone joined hands to pray.

  Emily was no stranger to prayer, but this single act made her fall head over heels in love with Marta’s entire family.

  Gemma knelt at her bedside, praying for Bradley, the boy Staniel told her about. Being deaf and mute, she prayed with her mind and her hands. The Holy Spirit heard every word. Staniel stood right by her side.

  Bradley was in serious danger.

  That same evening, in a stark white beachfront mansion overlooking the Atlantic, a downcast Bradley sat across from his father, the senator.

  “You are such a disappointment, always.” The senator’s voice remained calm, but his face was a mask of barely concealed rage and contempt for his only child.

  The boy kept his head down. He knew better than to look his father in the eye; retribution was always swift. His father started pacing behind his desk. This was not a good sign. The man had to be very angry. The boy shrank back in his chair and remained silent.

  “You must learn to control yourself. You can’t afford to get kicked out of yet another school. It’s bad enough that you have to attend public school in the first place. No respectable private school will have you now with your record of willful disobedience. Every private school we’ve applied to has turned you down flat. Do you understand what an embarrassment that is for me?”

  Now Bradley knew why his father was so upset. He hadn’t been accepted into any of the prestigious schools his father had applied to. Saint John’s Academy branded him the worst kind of student, one who willfully disobeyed all the rules and was repeatedly caught smoking in his dormitory.

  “Do you hear me, boy?” The senator jumped in front of Bradley’s chair and slapped him soundly across the face, knocking the chair backwards. “You better stay out of trouble and pray you get accepted to another school soon.”

  Bradley’s father straightened himself and strode casually from the room, leaving his injured son sprawled across the floor.

  ***

  Azelius, the Demon Prince of Hook Pond, watched the whole scene play out from his perch in a dark corner of the senator’s office. With the exception of coal black eyes, razor sharp teeth and claws, and shiny black wings jutting from his back, Azelius appeared almost human. He stood tall, eight feet tall, with broad shoulders and a strong physique.

  He was a terrifying and enigmatic presence, his chiseled face topped with a mane of long, wavy chestnut brown hair. Voice calm and level, he addressed the two lesser demons, Rebellion and Hate.

  “You two had better get a grip on that boy. I have great plans for h
im when he succeeds his father.”

  “We are doing our best, Prince. It is the woman, the one who prays. She prays for the boy. Her prayers prick at us. We can feel her even now. The prayers make us weak.”

  Rebellion and Hate spoke and responded in unison.

  Azelius screamed at the pair, his calm façade transformed into a mask of fury. “Deal with that woman now! Strike her down. Stop her prayers. We can’t have her interference.”

  The mewling pair whined and wailed. “It’s impossible, Prince. The woman is watched over by no less than Michael himself. Liam is there as well.”

  “Michael!” Azelius spat the name out between clenched teeth. “You have seen him there and you did not tell me?”

  The two small demons huddled together bracing for the coming assault.

  “Yes Prince. Michael has been seen coming to and leaving from the angelic stronghold of Perry House.”

  Azelius pulled his sword and swung at the two demons. Rebellion and Hate, together with their charge, Bradley, raced away. Azelius paced the room in a solitary rage.

  Fear crept into the demon prince. He could not lose control over his stronghold. If word reached the demon ranks that he was losing his grip on the powerful Steel family, Lucifer himself would intervene.

  Azelius knew he would have to deal with the woman who prays, and quickly. Michael or no Michael, he could not allow anyone to interfere with the stronghold he’d held on the Steel family for generations. The power he wielded tied directly to the power of the senator.

  ***

  Senator Brad Steel returned to his office after his son left. He came from a powerful line of political magnates. His family tree traced all the way back to Colonial times. A member of the Steel family held an official office in every generation for more than a hundred years. He and his son were the last of their line.

  The senator’s mother died when he was very young, and he and his brother were raised by their very strict and demanding father. His younger brother died a few years back in a car crash, driving drunk, after which his father suffered a massive stroke and died a few weeks later.

  The senator looked much like his brother and father. The Steel’s, known for their boy next-door looks, had thick blond hair and strong masculine features.

  Brad was no exception. He had his mother’s bow-shaped mouth with a perfect and charming smile. He was a great orator with a strong following of supporters. He sat at his desk with a short tumbler of whiskey and ice in his hand as he pondered his situation. He considered excessive drinking to be a weakness, and the fact that he was drinking now signaled his extreme irritation.

  His son had caused him to lose face with some of his supporters, making it look as if he could not manage his own offspring. Nothing enraged the senator more than to look as if he came up short in any arena, especially one as personal as this. Making tough decisions was what he did best, and he intended to force Bradley into submission, no matter the cost.

  Chapter Three

  “Knowing that you were not redeemed with perishable things like silver or gold from your futile way of life inherited from your forefathers, but with precious blood, as of a lamb unblemished and spotless, the blood of Christ.”

  1 Peter 1:18-19

  New American Standard Bible

  “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy!”

  Battle cry of the angels

  Across Hook Pond from the senator’s mansion, the woman who prays continued her prayers in earnest. The Holy Spirit laid Bradley and his family on her heart. She knew nothing of the abuse and heartache the boy had endured, but Staniel knew Rebellion and Hate tormented the youngster. Gemma only knew he needed her prayers.

  A loud trumpet sounded in the sky above the cottage, warning Staniel that the demon host had arrived to try to stop Gemma’s prayers. Staniel would not abandon his post to join the others who must be gathering to meet the demons. His job was to guard Gemma.

  Liam led a small legion of warrior angels to the skies above Perry House. Azelius came with a legion of his own, but he couldn’t come onto the estate. The demon prince wished to make a show of force as he got a look at the angelic ranks.

  Liam addressed a warrior named Terrence.

  “Azelius is only trying to draw out our numbers. He knows he can not touch us here.” With a nod of agreement, Terrence looked at the edge of the estate where the demon ranks swirled over Hook Pond.

  “Our true numbers remain hidden in the trees and bowels of the main house, Commander.”

  “Go back and tell them to stay out of sight. Azelius can do no more than bluster at this point. I intend to hear him out so that I will have something to report to Michael.”

  As Terrence left to do as Liam ordered, Azelius moved forward to separate himself from the swirling black mass of the demon horde.

  “Liam, you are a brave warrior indeed to have met me with so few reinforcements.” He puffed out his chest and spread his wings wide to mock the twenty angelic warriors in the sky behind Liam. Azelius brought with him no less than one hundred of his most evil demon soldiers. In grand display, the swirling horde came to attention behind their prince. Weapons drawn and fangs bared, the demons made a fearsome sight.

  Liam saw the ploy for what it was and shrugged. “What is it you want, Azelius?”

  “The woman who prays. I want her to cease her prayers for my stronghold. The Steel family is mine by their own free will. You can have no interest in them. They are no threat to Perry House.”

  “The boy has not yet chosen, Azelius, and the adults are still Jehovah’s children before they are yours. They may still repent.”

  Azelius clenched his fist as his face contorted in rage. “They have been mine for centuries. They will not choose against me. I have given them everything. All their wealth and power comes from me. I will not allow them to choose otherwise.”

  “It is not for you to decide.”

  With a shout of triumph, Liam drew his long sword and lifted it to the sky as a bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens, striking the tip. He whirled to face the demonic hordes and flicked the sword in their direction.

  The force and brightness of the lightning sent the dark minions scattering for cover. The other angels followed Liam’s example and shot bolts of light into the demon ranks until only Azelius remained.

  “I will strike at you and your human charges in any way I can, Liam. Be warned,” Azelius said, voice full of malice and spite.

  “It is written, Azelius, every knee shall bow, including yours.”

  The demon glared at Liam and made an obscene gesture before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

  Liam called his legion together. “We must send reinforcements to guard the Sims’s home and to protect Emily at all times.” As the angels prepared to do their commander’s bidding, they all raised their swords in salute.

  “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy,” they shouted in unison.

  “For the Lamb, who alone is worthy!” Liam returned their salute with his long sword raised to the heavens. “And greatly to be praised.”

  Early Saturday morning the girls returned to the cottage where Marta was anxious to try out her newly acquired sign language skills. Once she found out about Gemma, she was determined to learn, and kept Emily up all night practicing.

  They found Aunt Gemma in the garden, surrounded by nature, her easel and paints beside her. She worked with diligence and skill, recreating a part of Hook Pond that lay behind the estate. Emily took Marta’s hand and nodded. “We don’t want to startle her, so let’s make sure she sees us.” She stepped off the path, came into Gemma’s vision and waved. She ran to Gemma’s open arms, Marta right behind her.

  Gemma set her paints aside and began a silent but animated conversation with Emily. Marta tried hard to keep up with the conversation, but the sign language flowed so fast between them that she had no idea what they said.

  Beckoning her friend closer, Emily grinned and spelled out M-a-r-t-a to her Aunt. This
part Marta did understand, and she slowly spelled out her response letter by letter.

  “Hello, Aunt Gemma. I am so happy to meet you.” She formed each letter slowly but perfectly, just like she practiced with Emily. Gemma knelt down in front of Marta and shook her hand.

  Marta gazed into the older woman’s face, so like her new friend’s, and sighed. The deep green eyes and light red hair. She wondered what it would look like loose on her shoulders rather than in its prim bun. The beautiful mouth formed a radiant smile, and Marta felt a deep sense of serenity and peace wash over her. It was easy to see why Emily loved her aunt so much.

  Slowly Gemma spelled out letter by letter to Marta that she was also pleased to meet her and how impressed she was with her effort to learn to sign so quickly. Soon the three of them settled into a conversation together about their adventures of the night before.

  Emily talked about meeting Marta’s parents and trying on all of Marta’s clothes.

  Gemma took in every word and helped Marta further hone her skills at sign language. Later, Gemma went back to her painting, and Emily took Marta on a tour of Perry House. They saw Liam at the front entrance to the main house and waved hello. He headed out to do some yard work, a bucket of tools in one hand and a rake in the other.

  With a wide smile, he advised Emily to take Marta to meet Mr. Perry when they toured the house. Emily led Marta up a wide staircase to the study. The door stood open, and she knocked on it, waiting.

  Mr. Perry sat in a large leather chair, bent over a stack of rather odd and old looking maps that covered his massive cherry wood desk. Behind him stood an intricately carved cabinet with its doors open. Emily had never seen it open before. Aunt Gemma said it stayed locked up tight because it held Mr. Perry’s most important artifacts and documents.

  Emily could not resist a quick peek over Mr. Perry’s shoulder, but all she saw were shelves full of more old maps and some strange looking statuettes.