He had drawn one of Grandma’s kitchen knives and was holding it at his side, staring blankly at Jared.

“We won’t hurt you.”

“You’re not with the descendants,” Jared said.

He scoffed, and yet never blinked, never took his eyes off Jared. “The descendants are bottom-feeders. They have no real power without chants and incantations and blood rites. Always trying to hold on to their heritage, but they lost it centuries ago. Half of them aren’t even real descendants. They just believe they are, like people who believe they’ve been abducted by aliens.”

“Can you help him?” A woman was inching inside our house from the store. It was locked. Noah must have broken in.

The woman was so frail looking, so fragile, shaking with fear and cold. She had a bruise on her cheek and the remains of a black eye. “Can you help my son?” she said through a breathy sob. “He said to come here. That you could help him.”

“What’s your name?” Jared asked him.

“Noah.”

He glared at him from underneath his lashes. “Lie to me again, and I’ll make sure you suffer.”

“That’s his name,” the woman said. She eased closer but kept her distance from her son.

“What is your name?” Jared asked again.

The woman seemed confused. She looked at Noah.

“Atherol,” he said with a smile. “I seek Azrael.”

“You’ve found him,” Jared said. “What do you want?”

“Out.”

“Then leave him.”

“To have you come after me?” he asked. “To wait for the war? I can’t go back. And you are the only way out.”

Jared was in front of him in that faster-than-the-eye-can-see way of his. Cameron was beside me, doing his static-cling thing he did so well.

Jared tossed the boy onto the island like a sack of potatoes, oddly enough, knocking over a sack of potatoes. Noah started to struggle, but it was short-lived. Jared relieved him of the knife and tossed it to Cameron before refocusing on him.

He held him down, his brows drawn in question. “You’ll cease to exist.”

Noah’s gaze slid back to him. “Better here with you than face what is to come.”

“So be it.”

The thing inside the boy finally spared me an angry glance. Like this was somehow my fault. “They’ll never stop,” he said, his words venomous. “And everyone close to you will die.”

“That’s enough.” Jared leaned over him, almost touching his mouth to his like he was about to give mouth-to-mouth, but Noah kept his gaze locked with mine.

“More are coming,” he said. He refocused on Jared. “So many more.”

“I know.” Locking his hand around Noah’s throat, Jared opened his mouth and breathed in the evil spirit that had been consuming him. A dark fog left one mouth and entered the other, and I jerked forward in reflex, my only thought that Jared would be possessed.

Cameron caught me to him. “It can’t live inside him,” he said. “The spirit is essentially committing suicide.”

“Why?” Brooke asked, her eyes glued to the scene.

“It’s jumping ship. Like a rat does before it sinks. It wants out before the war begins.”

Jared rose up, looked toward the ceiling, and filled his lungs as though absorbing the spirit. Noah grew limp and the woman ran to him, her eyes pleading with Jared, hopeful.

“It’s done,” Jared said. “The spirit’s out.”

“Thank you,” she said, sobbing and holding an unconscious Noah to her.

“Do we need to call an ambulance?” I asked Jared.

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

Grandma went for her phone just as an older man rushed into the store. “I’m looking for someone named Azrael,” he said, glancing around, his expression panicked. “My granddaughter. There’s something wrong.”

“Where is she?” Cameron asked.

“In the car. Out here. Please, hurry.”

We hurried outside, leaving Grandma inside to help with Noah. I was right behind Jared and slid to a stop when I saw the little girl.

“Please,” the man said.

Glitch took over. He went to the man’s car and lifted her out, so tiny and frail, no more than five.

“Jared,” I said, my voice a soft whisper. He wrapped an arm around me and looked up at the sky. The clouds were dark and low, rolling over us in waves.

“It has begun,” he said, words I never wanted to hear. Words I feared more than anything.

I felt a sprinkle then, a drop of rain, and I knew everything I’d ever known was about to change.

THE LIGHTS OF RILEY’S SWITCH

Everyone close to me is going to die.

Those words reverberated in my head over and over as I gathered my belongings by candlelight. After the incident with Noah, I realized my presence was the problem. I was the problem. I was the reason bad people were coming to Riley’s Switch and I was responsible for all the horrible things that were happening to everyone around me. So I did the unthinkable. I bent to my grandparents’ wishes. I went to them and agreed to be secreted away, thus the 5 A.M. wake-up call. I’d packed that evening while everyone was at church so no one would know what I was doing and then hid the bags in my closet until Brooke and Glitch went home.

“Don’t forget your pillow,” Grandma said, holding the candle up high to give me more light. “You’ll need it.”