by Leanna Ellis
Samuel pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod.
“Having a close brush with death can change a man.” Father Anthony lifted a hand, then settled it back at his side. “If you need to talk…”
Samuel roared off into the night.
He took the roads at a fast clip, pushing himself and the bike faster and faster. He felt reckless and foolish, and only when he was a few hundred yards away did he slow his pace. He turned into Levi’s farm and puttered up the drive, the bike sounding loud in his ears as he approached the darkened farmhouse. By the time he’d parked, Levi stood on the front porch and came down the steps to greet him.
His oldest brother’s arms came around him, and he hugged Samuel, holding him tightly for a long moment. Samuel’s carefully constructed façade began to crumble. A shudder went through him, and he embraced his brother, breathed in the scents of hay and sky and orange marmalade. The aroma of home and hearth brought a smile and yet also heartache. He ended the hug with a clap on Levi’s back.
“How are you?” Samuel searched his brother’s face in the shadows offered by the moon. “Your ribs healed?”
“Better.” Levi eyed the bandage on Samuel’s neck. “And you?”
“Better.”
Levi gestured toward the chairs on the porch. “Want to sit for a while? Or are you hungry?”
Samuel patted his belly that was amazingly still flat. “Rachel’s been stuffing me like a Thanksgiving turkey.”
“Good.” Smiling, Levi leaned toward him. “I know someone else who’s been anxious to cook for you.”
Samuel broke eye contact, and his jaw hardened. All he had hoped for ended back in Kansas. Having looked death in the eye, he couldn’t drag Naomi into all of this danger. He wouldn’t. Not ever.
Together, the two brothers climbed the steps and settled next to each other in the wooden rockers. For long minutes, they simply stared at the stars as the boards creaked with their weight and steady rocking. Everything Samuel had experienced in the last week formed a rock in his gut, and the edges pressed into him. But how could he share with Levi what had happened? And yet how could he not?
“You want something to drink?” Levi asked, breaking the silence. “There’s root beer and lemona—”
“I saw him,” Samuel interrupted.
Levi froze.
“Jacob.” Samuel spoke his brother’s name. It had been a rare moment in the past few years when Jacob’s name had been spoken among his family. It usually prompted Pop to leave the table and Mamm to cry. But Levi…Samuel could talk to Levi. He needed to speak of it.
“When?” Levi asked.
“When I died.” He slid his hands along his thighs, flexing his fingers as if he could hold back the memories. “The doctor told me my heart stopped. I lost a lot of blood.” He touched the bandage still attached to his neck. “This artery was cut. I don’t remember much.” He shook his head, wishing he couldn’t remember any of it. “I-I saw myself on a table…flat out…being worked on.” His chest tightened, and he jerked his chin upward. “I saw Roc pacing in some hospital corridor.” Swallowing hard, he took the leap. “Then I heard a voice.”
Levi’s hands curled over the end of the rocker’s arms.
“It was Jacob.”
Levi’s eyebrows rose. “Our brother?”
Samuel felt his throat closing, and he drew long, slow breaths until the sensation eased. “He stood in…I don’t know…some kind of an opening, like…I don’t know.”
When Samuel didn’t go on, Levi asked, “What did he say?”
“H-he acted surprised to see me. And he told me to go back.”
Levi began rocking again, slow and steady, as if digesting all Samuel was saying.
“I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I didn’t mean to kill him. I wouldn’t have…shouldn’t have—” Samuel’s voice shattered, and he fell forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and for the first time since that night so long ago when he had shot his brother, he wept.
And Levi let him. He didn’t try to make him feel better. He didn’t tell him he shouldn’t, as Pop would have. He simply sat beside him, stayed with him in the dark. When he felt spent, exhausted emotionally, Samuel looked up, stared at the heavens, and wondered if that was where his brother was. Had Jacob forgiven him? Wiping his face with his sleeve, Samuel shook his head. “Sounds crazy, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Tense, Samuel pushed back in the rocker. “What would you say?”
“I’d say there are things we don’t understand. Whether it was the medication making you imagine things or whether you actually saw Jacob…” Levi’s voice constricted. “Did he look…okay?” He swallowed hard. “Normal?”
Samuel nodded. “Whole.”
Levi placed a hand on Samuel’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “I understand the guilt you feel. The heaviness. But I don’t think you need Jacob to forgive you.”
“Who then? God?”
“Always, ja?”
Samuel nodded.
“But you also need to forgive yourself.”
Those words wrapped around Samuel’s heart and squeezed until he thought he could no longer breathe.
“It’s not easy,” Levi continued. “I understand, Samuel, the awfulness. But if you cannot forgive yourself, if you cannot move on, then it will hold you to that moment in your life. And everything you do will be tethered to that.”
Samuel leaned back and blew out a breath. “Do you think the Lord forgives such a thing?”
Levi weighed the question carefully.
“God did not forgive Cain, did he?” Samuel challenged.
“He punished Cain, that is true. But I cannot say if Cain was forgiven. Did Cain ask for forgiveness?”
Samuel contemplated the question.
Before he could respond, Levi continued, “Christ died for all our sins. When you hold on to your transgression, you reject the power of his sacrifice.”
Chapter Seventy
Left alone with his traitorous thoughts, Samuel rocked on the front porch in the deep shadows, unable to sleep, unable to let go of his doubts and guilt. He wrestled with what Levi had said and with his trapped feelings. When the moon dipped behind a cloud, darkness shrouding him, his chin dipped, the chair slowed, and he breathed deeply, fully resting for the first time in days.
The crunch of gravel nudged him out of oblivion. His eyes snapped open. The rocker fell forward with his movement.
What was he doing? He shouldn’t have stayed out here in the open. Foolish.
His gaze landed on Naomi. What was she doing here? But of course, she was here to help Hannah with her twins. He’d been stupid in more ways than one.
With the morning sun behind her, she walked up the drive, head down, apparently in deep thought and unaware of his presence. But as she came up the porch steps, she paused at the sight of him. “Samuel?” Her voice spiked and a smile blossomed. “You are here. Really here. And safe.”
She rushed toward him, a smile breaking free, but she stopped abruptly. Her gaze locked on the bandage covering a good portion of his neck. “You’re hurt.”
He rose to his feet, feeling a bit disoriented from the late night and abrupt end to his sleep. The sun had risen above the horizon, and he squinted in its direction. He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m all right.”
She came toward him, approaching more cautiously. “Oh, Samuel, what happened?”
Every part of his being ached to pull her to him, hold her, breathe in her scent. But he forced himself to resist.
Her hand lifted as if to touch the bandage or simply reach out to him, but she faltered. Before she could pull away, Samuel’s hands closed over hers. He wasn’t sure what had made him do such a thing—reassuring her or himself—but at her soft touch, his heartbeat stumbled, his resolve wave
red.
“Are you all right, Samuel?” Her gaze sought his for reassurance, her brow furrowing with concern. “I didn’t know you had been hurt. Rachel said nothing. Only that you had returned with Roc.”
“I’m fine.” And his words were true. He hadn’t been fully right until this exact moment. Right here. With her. He squeezed her hand. “How have you been?”
“Me?” She started to laugh, and his gaze caught on the curve of her lower lip. “All is well here. Just helping out where needed.”
“Rachel told me how kind you were, seeing her through those days when Roc was missing.”
“It was the least I could do.”
“She appreciated the company and support.”
“Do you need to sit and rest?” she asked. “I could get you some breakfast.” Her gaze shifted toward the bandage again. “It looks as if your injury was awful bad.”
He gestured toward the empty rocker Levi had vacated hours ago. When she sat, he resumed his seat beside her. He should explain. He should tell her. Things are different now. “Naomi—”
“Samuel—”
They spoke at the same time and he tilted his head and waited for her to continue. But she shook her head.
He drew a slow breath. “I died, Naomi.” He needed her to know, to understand. “Roc didn’t tell Rachel.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t something we discussed. I didn’t want anyone to worry. But the fact is, I died.” He felt the piercing in his soul of those words. It wasn’t until then that he understood the consequences. If he had died, if he hadn’t returned, he never again would have felt the sun on his face, the closeness with his brother Levi, or shared this moment with Naomi. It was a gift and gratitude welled inside him.
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “Samuel…”
“The doctors restarted my heart.” He touched the tape along the edge of the bandage, then clasped her hand again. “I lost so much blood my heart gave out.”
“It’s a miracle.”
“It is indeed.” And it was a miracle seeing the light in her eyes, hearing the emotion in her voice, and feeling the touch of her hand on his.
The corners of her eyes pinched with concern. “No wonder you look tired.”
He shook his head. “I wanted you to know.”
She tilted her head sideways. “Of course.”
“No, I wanted you to know that I understand now.”
“Understand what?”
“Why I’m here. My purpose.” His hand tightened on hers as he thought back to one of their early conversations. “Do you remember?”
She nodded. “I have been praying for that too. As well as your safety.”
His voice closed over the words of thanks that he owed her, so he simply brushed his thumb over her knuckles again. Her skin felt so soft and he longed for more. But he would be grateful for this moment. “I’ve made a decision.”
He stared at the weathered floorboards of the porch. The once-deep grooves had smoothed out over time and use. “I’m going to work with Roc.”
“What about Levi?”
“He’s healing and won’t need me much longer. As long as I don’t cause him problems with the bishop, then I’ll help out as needed. But I’ve moved over to Roc’s and—”
A scream split the morning. It sounded inhuman, like an animal dying. And yet, there was a desperate human quality to it. The scream seemed to go on and on, surfing on the breeze, then breaking off sharply.
Samuel leapt to his feet and pulled Naomi behind him. He scanned the drive, trees, barn.
“What’s happened?” she asked. “Who…what was that?”
His heart raced. His mind seemed to stop for one brief second, splintering into questions. Fear rose up inside him. Not for himself, but for Naomi. “Get in the house. Stay in the house with Hannah. Lock the doors and windows. Do not come out.”
“But, Samuel—”
“Now.” He moved her toward the front door, keeping his back to the house and facing whatever danger might be out there. “Hurry. I’ll be back.”
She stood at the threshold, holding on to his arm. Before he could leave, she embraced him, pulling him close. Tears brimmed her eyes. “Be careful.”
He longed to kiss her, to promise his return, to declare his love for her. But he had to go. And if he didn’t return, it would be best if those words were never spoken.
He launched himself off the porch but turned back. “Lock the door. And don’t open it. For anyone.”
“But—”
“Anyone! Even if it sounds like me.”
“Samuel—”
“Do as I say. Please, Naomi. Do as I say.”
***
“What’s going on?” Levi came out onto the porch. He closed the door behind him, and Samuel heard the bolt lock in place.
“I don’t know.” Samuel shoved his cell phone in his hip pocket. He’d tried calling Roc but got no response. He decided to circle Levi’s house first and make sure all was as it should be, then he’d return to the center.
“You heard that, right?” Levi asked.
Samuel nodded, but his gaze moved around the perimeter of the property, as he edged toward his motorcycle. “Stay here, Levi.”
“Where are you going?”
“Keep your cell phone handy. Call me if you see or hear anything.” He climbed aboard and revved the engine, drowning out any arguments Levi tried to make. Hollering over the roar of the motorcycle, he added, “And get back in the house.”
The drive toward the Slow Gait Road seemed longer than when Samuel had arrived last night. As the sun remained low on the horizon, shadows wept from the trees and brush in deep, dark pools. When he reached the main road, he gave one last look at the house. A figure stood at the front window. Naomi.
He prayed for God’s protection over this house and all inside.
He turned right onto the road. It wasn’t long before he saw the van approaching. Joe slowed and rolled down the window.
“What happened?” Samuel asked.
“We caught one.”
“Where?”
“Not far from here. In the back now.”
“Where are you taking—”
“Back to the center. Follow me.”
Chapter Seventy-One
Samuel got stuck behind a horse and buggy. When he reached Roc’s, he parked behind the van. Roc appeared at the side door and tossed him a rifle. Samuel caught it with one hand.
“Come with me.”
“What happened?” Samuel jogged alongside Roc.
“You were followed.”
“By?”
“Your ex-girlfriend, I’m guessing.”
Samuel’s footsteps slowed but his mind raced ahead. “What are you going to do with her?”
“Anthony is in charge.” Roc yanked open the center’s door, and they entered.
Tethered in the center of the room, the ropes dangling from the ceiling held her in place—a writhing, screeching vampire, snapping and snarling and clawing to get at any team member who dared approach. In spite of the black eyes and viciously snarling mouth, Samuel recognized the slight form. Andi. Blood covered her mouth and chin and spotted her clothes.
Only a few yards away, Harry leaned against the wall looking shaken, his deeply tanned skin three shades paler as he wrapped white gauze around his bicep.
“Vade retro, Satana.” Father Anthony approached the rabid vampire. Andi reacted to the holy words like acid poured over her. She tried to crawl up the ropes but the strap around her neck, tied to a latch on the concrete floor, prevented her from getting far. Attempting to cover her ears, she curled inward. Father Anthony stood over her and dripped water onto her head, which made her scream, a sound most unholy.
“Not too close, Tony,” Roc warned, grasping Father Anthony’s elbow and tugging him o
ut of the vampire’s reach just as she tried to snare his foot.
But Father Anthony seemed lost to this world.
Randy, Joe, and Father Roberto circled the vampire, staying well out of her reach.
“What’s he doing?” Randy asked, his dark skin gleaming with sweat. “Why can’t we just kill her?”
“No!” the word burst out of Samuel. He instantly regretted his outburst.
Roc met his ashamed gaze with understanding. “Tony’s trying to save her. He’s trying to extract the demon from her.”
“Why the hell would he do that?” Joe yanked a .357 from the back of his jeans. “Did you see what she did to Harry?” He aimed his gun at her chest. “Maybe she’s the one that took a bite out of you, Mr. Save-the-Vampire.”
Samuel shielded Andi with his own body, staring not at the Glock but at Joe’s eyes. “She deserves a second chance, just like the rest of us.”
“She didn’t give a second chance to Peter or Chris or—”
A sound from Samuel’s left stopped Joe in the middle of his rant. They both turned toward Roc, who aimed a shotgun at Joe. “Put it down.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Joe’s eyes blazed. “I’m not the one who gutted Shawn! Kill her! She deserves it.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Father Roberto eased toward Joe, one hand splayed. “It’s not her. It’s the demon within her. If we kill her, Joe, then the demon will simply find another body to inhabit.”
Joe shook his head, glaring at the writhing vampire several feet behind Samuel, and his hands clutched the shaking gun. “But Martha…”
“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.” Roberto placed a hand over the gun and aimed it at the floor. “Someone else killed your sister. And we’ll find that vampire someday.” When Roberto had taken the gun from Joe, he settled a hand on the taller, broader shoulder. “Joe, can you take Harry to the house? He needs Rachel to look at his wound.”
“You’re a fool,” screeched Andi. Her face distorted with rage and yet she gave a horrific laugh. “A fool!”
