They entered the building, and Caldwell began carrying her up the stairs. He was unusually strong for his size. Keren felt the corded muscles in his lean arms. But even so, he was testing his limits. Breathing hard, walking slower.
“Your father punished you. He told you he would drive the evil out,” Keren said gently, hoping to start him talking again.
“Shut up. I’m not listening to you.”
“He hurt you and called you evil until you believed him. But it wasn’t true. He was wrong.” She felt such compassion for the little boy who had been so warped, that she no longer had to force herself to do God’s will. She found it easy to reach out.
“You don’t know anything about me. My father saved me!”
Caldwell opened a door and went in. He walked to the middle of the room as Keren studied her surroundings from her upside-down position.
He flipped her off his shoulder and she landed with a thud on a hard wooden table. She tried to slide off the table, but Caldwell made such quick work of fastening her feet to a metal hook embedded in the wood that she knew he’d done it many times before. She thought of her gun strapped to her ankle. He didn’t notice it, and Keren wondered if God had closed his eyes to it.
She’d never killed a man. She didn’t want to do it now. But she would. God forgive her, she’d kill if she had to. She knew it was in her to kill someone to save the lives of innocent victims.
“Francis, God has sent me to you.”
“No, He hasn’t!” Caldwell lost his cultured voice.
“I am here with you because I have a special gift.” Keren looked at him, staring into his eyes, willing him to listen to her. “I have a gift that lets me see the demon inside of you, and that lets me see the sad, hurt little boy who doesn’t want to do this bad thing.”
Caldwell leaned down until his face was inches from hers. “I’m doing God’s will.”
She shuddered but quickly controlled herself. “You don’t have to let this demon tell you what to do. I can make him leave. All you have to do is want it, Francis. All you have to do is reach out for God.”
Caldwell produced a delicate tool from a smaller table beside the one where she lay. She recognized the chisel. It was identical to the one they’d found in LaToya’s back.
He used the chisel to slit the duct tape from her hands. For a moment, she hoped she might have reached him and he was setting her free. But he wrenched one hand straight out to her side and deftly wrapped tape around it. She saw that the table was specially made so her arms could be extended straight out at her sides and secured.
Even as he did it, she knew the demon had him firmly in his grip. Why did You let me feel him, if not to free him from the demon?
There was no answer. Maybe this wasn’t about Caldwell. Maybe this was her test.
He rounded the table. When he reached for her hand, she was ready. She rammed her fist into his face. With a howl of pain, he recoiled from her. He crouched down, mewling like a wounded kitten, until he had nearly curled into a ball on the floor. Keren desperately reached for her gun but her bound arm wouldn’t let her get to it. She rolled sideways to loosen it. With a snarl of rage, Caldwell leaped from the floor and lunged for her. She slammed the back of her hand into his jaw and he staggered back. Recovering instantly, he grabbed at her hand and she landed a solid blow on his nose. Blood spurted out. She caught a hank of hair and slammed his head on the wooden table.
With a shriek of pain more animal than human, Caldwell threw his whole weight on her free arm. He pressed it back and she couldn’t hold out against his weight. He fumbled for his tape and bound her free arm out at her side. She couldn’t move.
She was completely at the mercy of a demon.
The demon found his chisel where he’d dropped it and brought it to the table. His nose was bleeding. When he saw the blood dripping off his chin, he dabbed at it and said, “You drew first blood, Kerenhappuch, but I’ll draw last.”
He began slitting the arm of her shirt.
Paul was waiting for O’Shea to throw a fist, when Higgins rushed into the room with a half dozen FBI agents.
“Do you have the location on Keren?” Paul strode toward Higgins.
“Location?” O’Shea was right beside him.
“Yes,” Paul said. “I bugged her just like I did Rosita.”
“You can trace her?” O’Shea asked. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“Because I was searching for her in this apartment first.” Paul turned to Higgins. “Where’s the computer?”
At that moment, one of Higgins’s agents pulled a sheet of plywood off a window and climbed out on the apartment’s only fire escape. The distressed metal shrieked.
“Did you hear that?” Higgins asked Paul.
“No,” Paul said. “No way did he go out that fire escape. Even if he found a way out without letting light in, I’d have heard that racket. He’s gone, and he’s got Keren. She left her gun and her phone behind, but she’s still wearing the tracking device I put in her hair tie.”
A man carrying a laptop computer burst into the apartment.
“Check Detective Collins’s location.” Paul ran to where the man had set up the little computer on the bloody table where Rosita had been tied only minutes before. The computer began a relentless beeping. The screen filled with a map of Chicago, with a little white dot flashing.
“He’s stopped,” the computer operator said. “The signal just came online and it’s stationary.”
Higgins bent down to study the screen. “He’s by the airport. Several condemned buildings in that area. It’s a good bet he’s holed up in one of them. I’ll have an address by the time the GPS is done working.”
Paul grabbed Higgins’s arm. “Let’s go. They can call you with an address while we drive.”
“I’m going to put an end to this right now.” Higgins charged out of the room.
Paul glanced at O’Shea, and the two ran after Higgins.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Keren heard the fabric of her white blouse rip. She willed herself to be calm.
“Francis, take charge of your life. I’m here to give you a chance for redemption.”
Caldwell looked up from his cutting. “You’re here because I brought you here. I’m in control. I’m enjoying my power over you far more since you struck me.”
Keren wondered if she had miscalculated when she attacked him. She saw the fire in his eyes and the blood dripping from his broken nose and couldn’t regret defending herself. But, if it was possible, the feeling of evil that oozed out of him was worse.
“Francis, you’re not in control. A demon is telling you every move to make. If you really want to be in control, you have to get him out. This demon only controls you if you let him. If you pray with me, if you turn to God, you can be free.”
Caldwell looked up and for a second, something flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly gone.
This kind of demon only comes out with prayer and fasting.
“God, help me,” Keren prayed aloud. “Touch Francis’s heart. Give me the words to speak. I know You want him to come home. I know—”
“Shut up.” Caldwell lunged so his face was inches from hers. “No one will save you. You’re mine.”
“the demon that lived among the tombs, when he saw Jesus, cried out, ‘What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? In God’s name, don’t torture me!’ Jesus has command over demons.” Keren had tried reaching Francis by appealing to his humanity, but now she spoke to the demon. “God is more powerful than you, Pravus. You know that if He willed it, you would be back on the floor, just like you were when I hit you. You’d be curled up, begging for mercy.”