“Ten-four.”
By the time I turned to looked at him, he was gone. Shorty had blended in with the crowd like a chameleon.
I was alone again, and I wasn’t sure what else do to. The minister was still speaking, and the crowd was moved with each one of his words. The space had no boundaries, no walls, no sacred art or crucifix anywhere, but you could feel the Lord in its midst. I closed my eyes, and I could feel energy rolling over me in every direction. Unlike the crazy witches’ energy, this was soft and warm. It felt like soft silk caressing my face, or warm waves. I found myself swaying to an invisible force I wanted so badly to touch.
I opened my eyes, and the band had started playing again. The crowd was moving to the same beat. It was captivating. I started to look around. There were smiling faces everywhere. The church had set up tables on the far side for what appeared to be breakfast. The food was not what caught my eye. A guy who looked just like Eric was carrying boxes. I didn’t want to yell his name, in case it wasn’t him. Instead I walked carefully in his direction.
“Do you guys need some help?” I had learned early in my military career that the easiest way to get people to like you was to volunteer. It was the same way in most places.
A lady in her fifties, or maybe sixties, smiled at me. She looked as if she had had work done on herself. She had age spots on her hands, but her face looked really good.
“Of course, sweetie. We could always use more hands. Do you mind helping unload the truck?” Her voice was very musical. It had the same quality as the preacher’s. I wondered if the two of them were related.
I made my way toward the truck. The guy was definitely Eric. He was facing the bed, pulling crates closer to the front. He was wearing shorts and a long-sleeve shirt. He had a baseball cap on, and he looked younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
He almost jumped at the sound of my voice. “Isis, what are you doing here? Please don’t blow up anything here.” Eric had a horrible perception of me. Scary.
“It wasn’t on my list, but thank you for the reminder. I’d better be going.” I turned around and started to walk away. I really didn’t need that from him today.
“Isis, I’m sorry. Please wait.” Eric was holding my arm.
My first instinct was to knock his hand off me. I controlled myself and turned to face him. “Yes? What other insults are you getting ready to throw at me?” It sucked to be like a mayhem commercial. For some strange reason, he wanted to blame all the insane crap in this town on me. As if the witches weren’t doing anything here.
“I’m sorry about that. I’m tired and maybe a bit edgy. What are you doing here? I thought you were Catholic.” How did he know my religion? I guessed that part really didn’t matter.
“I am, but I still enjoy a good service. Even the pope promotes better relations with other faiths.”
“So that’s the only reason you’re here?” Eric really should have become an investigator. He asked plenty of questions.
“I had a meeting with one of my sources.” I looked around at the church. I was not going to admit to Eric that Shorty was my only source. “Maybe we should talk and move. I think they’re waiting for those things.”
“Oh, crap. You’re right.” Eric looked back to the truck.
“Let me help you.”
Eric looked around almost reluctantly. Finally he handed me a couple of boxes. They were full of rolls and apples.
We walked back to the breakfast table together. We handed the volunteers the boxes and went back for more.
“The ladies normally have more help, but for some strange reason, five of their regulars didn’t show up today.”
“Probably because they’re getting ready for genocide.” I beat Eric to the truck.
“What?” A sleep-deprived Eric was really slow.
“I’m pretty sure the witches were volunteering here. They’ve been working in most of the shelters and nonprofit organizations to find victims and get their trust. After tonight, for one reason or another, they won’t be coming back.” I prayed it would be because we’d found a way to stop them. “Why are you here?”
He looked a little shy. “This is one of my favorite events in town. Everyone here truly wants to be here, and they care for one another.” We carried the last of the supplies to the table. Eric headed back to the truck. “Can you feel it?”
“I can feel something. I don’t know what it is.” I looked around the place again. The fellowship was incredible.
“Do you trust me?”
That was a very odd question coming from him. I knew Constantine trusted him, but did I? The man drove me nuts at times, but somehow I did trust him. I nodded.
“OK. I don’t recommend you doing this around town. Open your sight.”
I looked at him in pure horror. Was he trying to scare me to death? With all these people here, I had no idea what I would find.
Eric stepped closer and held my hand. “It’s going to be OK. Try it.”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and opened my sight. I was bracing myself for demons, monsters, and maybe even hell. Instead I was surrounded by golden light. The place was illuminated by a soft, warm brilliance, and a canopy of light covered the crowd. The Church under the Bridge was a Church of Light and Warmth. Everyone around me was glowing, even Eric. He looked like an avenging angel.
To my left a lady sat on the ground, crying. Two children sat on either side of her, holding her hands and soothing her. As I looked, their wings expanded, and, by God, they were cherubs. They smiled at the
