Chapter 11

Grace dropped Serra off at home and insisted that she get back to calling the jobs advertised in the classified while she went to do 'errands'. After driving around for almost an hour, (and burning what was left in her gas tank,) Grace found herself back in front of an old, familiar Catholic church. From her driver's seat, she took a deep breath and stared at the giant stained glass window and closed her eyes as the church bells began to chime. It was almost time for evening mass.

No one knew that Grace visited the holy building, not even her sister. She had been coming sporadically since she was a teenager, searching for solace from the chaos in her mind. The only place quieter was the cemetery at the other end of town, but it seemed a bit dreary. Hearing people's thoughts through touch was more than exhausting; not only did she have to sort through everything she absorbed to find her own mind, but whenever she touched someone, Grace would also take on that person's emotions. It was getting harder and harder to get herself back.

The church was unassuming and quiet. No one wondered why she would spend hours in the pews, just sitting quietly and staring up at the stained glass. It was the most at ease she ever felt and no one judged her for it.

Knowing the church would soon be flooded with late-night church goers; Grace climbed out of her car and walked slowly into the narthex. She stopped and nodded once at the elderly woman kneeling in one of the back pews.

Walking silently through the church, Grace was headed to her favorite spot. She pushed her way through the doors near the crucifix and took a deep breath as she padded into the tiny gardens. There was a lone bench between small rose bushes that faced the ornate glass of the church, and taking a deep breath, Grace sat down and held her face in her hands. The marble statue of the Virgin Mary looked on as Grace struggled to keep control.

Hunting monsters was in her blood and as much as she would hate to ever admit it out loud, she was good at it. The Browning family had been hunting things that went bump in the night for generations; it was the whole reason Browning Firearms had been invented in the first place. It was a little-known fact that most early weapon developers were also moonlighting as monster hunters, mostly because they needed to create a product that would do the job necessary to keep civilians safe.

Hunting humans was a different beast entirely.

Grace Browning believed wholeheartedly that people were good, but instances like the situation that Gemma had found herself in made it hard for Grace to keep her optimistic beliefs. She knew Serendipity was right: Stephen would continue his path unless corrected, one way or another. If he wasn't hurting Gemma, he would find someone else, and the process would repeat itself, but Grace battled with herself. She was a monster hunter, not a human hunter. Not a police officer or a real member of the FBI, no matter how many fake badges she owned. Was civilian justice up to her?

From her pocket, her cell phone vibrated against her leg. Pulling it out slowly, she stared at the screen, and seeing that it was Billy, she took a deep breath and wiped her face. Grace flipped it open and answered, "Hi, Billy."

"Hey there, angel," he answered quietly. "Job's done."

Grace nodded and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "Thanks, Billy, we owe you big," she whispered, trying not to give away her emotions.

"You don't owe me a thing," Billy replied. "Why are you crying?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Grace shook her head slowly. She had no idea how he did it, but Billy always knew.

"I'm not crying," she answered, straightening her posture and staring at the Virgin Mary statue. "I'm just…dealing with some things."

Billy listened quietly, giving Grace his full attention. "There's a lot going on in that big brain of yours, huh?"

"This whole thing with Gemma," she replied quietly. "It's not our job to be judge, jury, and executioner."

He paused and took a slow breath, taking the time to comb his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, and then smooth the wild strays of his beard. "Let me tell you something, angel. There's evil out in the world and most of the time, we do our part to clean it up a bit," Billy explained. "Most of the time, the evil is easy to see; usually it comes with fur, or fangs, or talons, but sometimes, that evil looks just like you or me."

"You're saying that evil is evil and still needs to be taken care of."

"I'm saying that you need to trust your gut," Billy stated. "But at the same time, just because he's an asshole, don't make him a dead man walking."

Grace shook her head. "This asshole almost killed her," Grace whispered, staring at the beautiful heavenly statue.

"Almost."

Nodding, Grace closed her eyes. "Almost. He stopped," she repeated. "It gets worse each time, though."

Billy sighed, "They usually do." Pausing, he took another breath. "Sounds like you've already made a decision."

"I've made a plan, but I'm not sure about the decision," she replied, toying with the ends of her long hair.

"You at your church?"

Automatically, Grace glanced around, wondering if Billy was waiting in the shadows. "How do you know that? Nobody knows where I go."

Chuckling softly from the other end of the phone call, Billy smiled, "Seems like every time you've got something big on your mind, there're church bells in the background. I started to pay attention."

"They're soothing when they're the only thing I can hear."

"I'll bet," Billy replied. "Walk me through your plan."

…

The church bells chimed one last time as parishioners filed out of the narthex and back towards their cars, away from Grace and her place in the garden. She remained in solitude and rolled her plan over and over in her mind, trying to find fault with it. Billy had approved of what she described to him, so now; it was just a matter of implementing it.

Serendipity had called twice, wondering where Grace had disappeared to, but she ignored the vibration against her leg from her phone. As the last car drove out of the parking lot, she breathed a sigh of relief: she was completely alone again at last. Getting up from her place on the bench, Grace wandered slowly around the garden and touched the plants as she walked by. Her long, blonde hair trailed behind her as a soft breeze blew around the vegetation. As she rounded the dirt path, she came face to face with the great marble statue of the Virgin Mary, and taking a deep breath, she stared up at her beautifully carved face.

"I hope we can pull this off," Grace whispered to the statue. "I really don't want to go to prison." The back of her neck tingled with familiarity; Serra was approaching, thinking that she was silent on the dirt path, but she gave off an aura that only Grace was familiar with. Grace closed her eyes, knowing that Billy had finally given away her secret, probably because Serra had called Billy in a panic, demanding to know where her sister was.

"Why would you go to prison?" Serra asked quietly.

Without turning around, Grace took a deep breath, still staring at the statue, "Because we're probably going to kill Stephen."