“Gabriel, it’s all over. We know what you’ve done.”
He started to laugh. “You know what I’ve done? How can you possibly know what I’ve done? I’ve saved you. I’ve saved all of you! I have created the perfect One, He who will reign forever, the spirit of humanity, the one true God. His path has been cleared. His way will be followed. The signs have been fulfilled! ‘And there shall be no more curse: but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his name shall be in their foreheads.’” He was screaming now, arms thrown to the heavens, his face a mask of ecstasy.
Taylor was thankful for his episode; surely his screaming would bring some backup. Keep him distracted, step to your right again. Pick up the damn gun.
Gabriel continued howling. “‘And there shall be no night there, and they need no candle, neither the light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever.’ Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? I have created the light!”
Taylor spoke calmly. “I know what you think you’ve done, Gabriel. I know you think you can create the Messiah through Jill. But you haven’t, you can’t. All you’ve done is get a young girl pregnant and murder five other people. You’re sick, and we want to help you. Now turn around and get on the ground. Get on the ground now. Now!”
Gabriel ignored the command. He was looking over Taylor’s shoulder. She caught it, realizing that Gabriel must have seen Jill somewhere behind her.
The transformation was amazing. He was suddenly calm, the joy on his face shining like a beam of light. Gabriel held out his arms.
“Oh, my love, my sweet. You’re okay now. I won’t let anything happen to you. Come to me, my dove.”
His eyes were glazed, and he had a smile on his face, one so yearning that Taylor almost felt sorry for him for a moment. The man was seriously ill, and it was possible his illness had robbed him of his ability to think competently. But they had him now, and he would pay. She’d make sure of it.
She gave a quick look over her shoulder and saw Jill standing with Fitz in the back door of the house. The light radiated behind her, and she shone like an angel.
Taylor turned back to Gabriel. She saw something in his eyes that frightened her. She shouted over her shoulder. “Fitz, get the girl back inside. Now!”
Gabriel’s face was suffused with love and hatred. Taylor watched him warily as she heard the first of the sirens pulling into the drive. He was going to go after the girl; she was certain of that. She couldn’t let him get past her.
Fitz was yelling now, and Taylor saw Miller out of the corner of her eye, down on the ground. She didn’t know if he was alive or just knocked out. She knew she was in the way; Fitz couldn’t take a shot, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t take the chance that Lucas had a gun and would try to kill everyone to get to Jill.
In that moment, Gabriel launched himself at the house, screaming wildly. Taylor met him with a punch to the chest, and he staggered for a moment, not expecting resistance. She launched a kick at his abdomen, connected solidly, heard the breath go out of him in a groan. She stepped in to take him down, but he managed to get his feet under him and plowed into her. He started toward the house again, his arms locked on her shoulders.
She fought him, and they grappled for a moment, until his weight and frenzy started to overpower her. A step closer, another, and the gun was finally within reach. She shoved Gabriel backward with all her strength and swung her hand down. Caught the grip of the gun on the first try, whipped her arms up. “Stop. Don’t take another step.”
With a roar, Gabriel charged, the knife flashing in the light from the back door. She reacted as quickly as she could, spinning around him, out of reach, the Glock pointed at his chest. He kept coming, the knife high, lunging at her, and she spun away again, pulling the trigger, once, twice, three times. He went down, hard, and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
75
Marcus pulled into the drive at speed, and Baldwin caught sight of the fight in the headlights. He saw a flurry of blond hair, the flash of a knife, heard the shots. He jumped out of the car as a wash of red spurted into the air. He froze. Taylor was facing him, standing stock-still, and looked confused, as if she couldn’t understand why she’d discharged her weapon. A small smile played on her lips, and her hand rose to her throat, then she crumpled to the ground, next to the body of a man.