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  THE LIGHTS OF TENTH STREET

  “The Lights of Tenth Street will give both faithful and struggling Christians strength to meet the challenges of our sexualized society. Men and women who feel trapped by sin or whose marriages are struggling will find hope and insight in these pages, as the author reminds us that none of us are exempt from the seduction that is permeating our culture. Feldhahn has given us a riveting, thoughtful, and yet highly enjoyable read.”

  DR. JERRY KIRK, FOUNDER

  NATIONAL COALITION FOR THE PROTECTION OF CHILDREN AND FAMILIES

  “Who knew Christian fiction could be so exciting—and so relevant to the times? A fascinating tale of people caught up in immorality, spiritual mediocrity, and high-tech terrorism, The Lights of Tenth Street is an edge-of-your-seat spiritual thriller.”

  BILL MCCARTNEY, FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT

  PROMISEKEEPERS

  “This book made me long to be part of a huge response of Christians who say no to sin and yes to following God without reservation. It’s a novelists way of calling the church to repentance and watching God’s power be released to impact the world through His children.”

  DR. BOB RECCORD, PRESIDENT

  NORTH AMERICAN MISSION BOARD, SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION

  THE VERITAS CONFLICT

  “In The Veritas Conflict, Shaunti Feldhahn paints a disturbingly accurate picture of the liberal climate surrounding our most hallowed academic institutions, and of the intense spiritual warfare that exists there. Not only is this thrilling novel a pleasure to read—it gives powerful, Christ-centered perspectives on many difficult situations Christian students face in today’s classroom. Highly recommended for every student and parent!”

  DR. BILL BRIGHT, FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT

  CAMPUS CRUSADE FOR CHRIST INTERNATIONAL

  “The Veritas Conflict is a fictional story that is packed with truth. This novel gives a compelling glimpse into the spiritual warfare behind the scenes of one of our nations great universities and sounds a trumpet call for Christians to be salt and light in our often-challenging, secular culture. This story will draw you into a deeper walk with Christ, and inspire you to stand for His truth.”

  DR. CINDY JACOBS, BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  WOMEN OF DESTINY AND THE VOICE OF GOD

  “A carefully woven plotline that, through the medium of story, delves deeply into intellectual and emotional issues and the invincible power of prayer. Shaunti has written an engaging novel that provides answers to some of life’s most difficult questions about God and truth.”

  RAVI ZACHARIAS, CHRISTIAN APOLOGIST AND AUTHOR

  THE LOTUS AND THE CROSS

  “Having trained Christian students for over twenty years how to apply their faith in a secular educational setting, I know the hazards they face in attempting to be salt and light within an increasingly tasteless and dark campus environment. The Veritas Conflict challenges Christian students to think about the invisible battle they face on campus—with forces of spiritual darkness, as well as deceitful philosophies, vying for their hearts and minds. Shaunti Feldhahn has woven together practical ideas for waging war on these two simultaneous battlefronts in a compelling and imaginative way.”

  CHUCK EDWARDS, DIRECTOR

  BIBLE STUDY CURRICULUM SUMMIT MINISTRIES

  “Ms. Feldhahn has an enormous writing talent. I cared about her main characters—rooting for them and hoping they’d come through in the end. Her intricate plot left me breathless in awe at how she tied up everything without dropping a thread! Overall, a message of love was given—love that is patient and love that gives to people unselfishly, right where they are. The Veritas Conflict takes a few little facts and becomes a full-blown work of contemporary fiction that will certainly cause readers to think.”

  KAREN LARSEN

  SCRIBES WORLD REVIEW

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Specifically, “Tenth Street” and The Challenger referenced in the book are entirely fictional and are not to be confused with the actual street of that name located in Atlanta or any actual establishment.

  THE LIGHTS OF TENTH STREET

  published by Multnomah Books

  © 2003 by Veritas Enterprises, Inc.

  Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from:

  The Holy Bible, New International Version © 1973, 1984 by International Bible Society, used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House

  Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.

  MULTNOMAH and its mountain colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission.

  For information:

  MULTNOMAH BOOKS

  12265 ORACLE BOULEVARD, SUITE 200

  COLORADO SPRINGS, CO 80921

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Feldhahn, Shaunti Christine.

  The lights of Tenth Street / by Shaunti Feldhahn.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-56444-3

  I. Title: Lights of 10th Street. II. Title.

  PS3556.E4574L54 2003

  813′.54–dc21

  2002156081

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

 
Chapter Sixty-one

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Discussion Guide

  The Story Behind the Story

  Resources for Readers

  Acknowledgments

  PROLOGUE

  You be good, pumpkin.”

  Ronnie leaned into the broad chest as the owner of the deep voice knelt for a hug by the driveway. She squeezed her arms tight around his waist, breathing in the scent of sawdust and engine oil. She stood quiet in his embrace until she felt him kiss the top of her head. Her fingers gripped tighter.

  “Do you have to go? Can’t I go with you just this once?”

  “Nope.” The callused hands gently pried her fingers loose. “I told your mom I’d have you back by five o’clock. It’s already past that. I hope you had fun with the other kids at that church, at least.”

  “I did!” The little face beamed. “That teacher lady this morning told us a story about how this man got beat up by some bad guys, and how another good man helped him. She said I was kind, like the good man!”

  She prattled on about her morning. He finally stood up, silencing her. Then he took one of her hands in each of his and gave her a small smile. He chucked her under the chin, his voice quiet.

  “Go on in now, Raggle-bear. I love you.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ronnie saw movement at the front curtains. She took a step backward.

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  He climbed into the familiar sedan, and she waved good-bye as the only father she’d ever known backed down the driveway.

  Bye, Daddy …

  She heard the screen door squeak open behind her, heard the familiar female voice.

  “Come on in, sweetheart.”

  She turned and shouldered her small bag, then clambered up the uneven porch steps. She accepted another hug, a kiss on the cheek.

  “Oh, I missed you. Go on now, put your stuff away. Then set the plates for dinner.”

  Ronnie started to walk around the corner just as another figure appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  “Hello, Veronica.”

  She looked up at the tall man in the doorway, squinting against the ceiling light. “Hi, Seth.”

  His expression darkened. He glanced at her mom, still standing by the front door, and then back at her. His voice was calm. “I have told you repeatedly to call me Dad.”

  Ronnie looked back down. “I have to go put my stuff away.”

  Seth stared at her a moment longer, then waved a hand. Ronnie hastened down the hallway toward her room. She put away her pajamas, a few toys, and the white teddy bear that went with her everywhere, and then headed back toward the kitchen.

  The swinging door was slightly ajar, and Ronnie could hear voices lowered in intense conversation. She padded softly down the hallway.

  “But, Seth, she—”

  “No. That’s it. He’s dangerous to this family, and I won’t stand for it.”

  “But it’ll kill her not to—”

  “So you want to risk it, is that what you’re saying?” Seth’s voice rose just slightly. “I saw the bruises he left on you. You want that to happen to Veronica?”

  Ronnie stopped a few feet from the kitchen door, eyes wide, straining to listen.

  “He wouldn’t do that to Ronnie.”

  “And that’s another thing. You need to get over this juvenile nickname. Her name is Veronica. She’s almost eight, for crying out loud. The sooner we stop mollycoddling her, the quicker she’ll grow up and accept her new life.”

  “But to cut off all visitation—”

  “Tomorrow morning,” the voice lowered again, “you call the court. It shouldn’t take long to convince the judge, once you show your police pictures. Especially since he’s not even her biological father.”

  There was a long silence, and Ronnie stood still, trembling, afraid to move. Daddy!

  “I can’t—I can’t do that. She needs her father.”

  “If you won’t, I will. I’m her father now, and it’ll be better for her if she’s not confused by two loyalties. Discussion over.”

  Seth pushed through the swinging doors, heading toward the living room. He saw Ronnie at the entrance to the hallway, and stopped.

  He gave her a long look, then walked toward her. He crouched down and put a hand on her arm.

  “Veronica, were you eavesdropping on us? Did you hear that? … Veronica?”

  Ronnie could only stare at him. Her eyes turned toward the kitchen doorway where her mother had appeared, pain and defeat etched into her expression. Ronnie’s lips began to tremble.

  Her arm began to throb, and she realized that Seth had tightened his grip. He was gazing at her with a strange look, his eyes wandering over her face.

  “Veronica, don’t ignore me.”

  A dim voice from the kitchen. “Seth, don’t.”

  “Veronica, I asked you a question. If you don’t obey, there are consequences.”

  Her tongue was stuck. Even when he stood up and pulled off his belt, she was frozen. Even when he turned her against the wall and her tears dripped to the carpet. Her mind was numb.

  Daddy …

  A shining figure bowed his head, his voice soft with grief. “The heavenly Father weeps for His child.”

  Another great being, his high-ranking garments glinting like the sun, stepped forward. “And another spirit is wounded. Loriel, she is now your charge. You have been chosen to lead this campaign.”

  “Yes, General.” The first angel nodded his acceptance, but his eyes remained fixed on the scene before him. Then he sighed, repeating the man’s words in a low voice. “If you don’t obey, there are consequences.” He shook his head. “If the Father’s children don’t obey His heart, there are indeed consequences. But the consequences fall not just upon themselves. The sins of the earthly fathers truly are passed down for generations.”

  “But God has promised that the righteous will inherit His blessing down to the thousandth generation! His mercy triumphs over judgment.”

  The two angels watched the little girl retreat to her bedroom and crawl under the covers.

  Loriel’s eyes darkened as he felt again the pain of the One he was created to serve, the Father’s grief over a child’s suffering.

  “Loriel, this cycle must be broken. The consequences of this campaign are great, greater perhaps than we have seen since the battles for the establishment of this one nation under God. The enemy’s plan is massive, but he is prideful, assured of his success in twisting the hearts and minds of men to destruction. He is expecting opposition, but he is not prepared for the war to be fought apart from his usual front. And on that front lies our hope.”

  Loriel looked back to the small girl sniffling under the covers. “If only they will listen.”

  The General smiled and laid a strong hand on his arm. “That, too, is your charge.” He stepped back and gave the traditional salute. “It is time, Commander. You must be strengthened for this journey. Clothe yourself in the armor of God!”

  Loriel lifted his head and opened his arms wide. A melody of praise poured forth from his lips, catching him up before the Throne. He lost himself in the beauty and the power of worship before his Maker, captivated by the glory of the Ageless One. He could feel himself growing strong with the power of the Spirit, his wings unfurling with sparks like lightning.

  How long he reveled in worship he did not know, but the time came—as it always did—when he felt the Lord’s release. He was created for the fight, but still he longed to stay before the Throne, longed for the day when all creation would bow before the humble King.

  And his purpose was to hasten that day. Loriel bent his knee and heard his call.

  As I set aside My glory and dwelt in the land of the shadow, so must My servants also go. The darkened lands are thirsting for My living water. I am calling to My bride, My church! Carry My message! And minister … minister to My precious lambs.

 
; Loriel closed his eyes at his Master’s longing for those He had died to save. A heavenly resolve began to burn in his breast, and he lifted his head, his eyes fierce with determination. He was created to serve and protect these who were so precious to his King!

  He launched himself upward, a great cry on his lips as a shining host rallied to his call. They wore no weapons, for the Prince of Peace was their standard. This campaign was not yet a battle against the enemy. This campaign was to awaken a sleeping bride.

  ONE

  High school. Ten years later …

  Ronnie ran her last lap with the other girls, grateful that the physical effort spared her from thinking. A girl in front glanced toward the stands, and despite herself, Ronnie’s head jerked sideways. The two men in the stands were still intent in conversation with their coach.

  All three pairs of eyes were fastened on her.

  Ronnie looked forward and tried to keep an even pace. She could hear her heart thudding, feel her ponytail swinging at her back. Please … please …

  The pack reached the stopping point and tailed off, each girl slowing, walking, hands on hips, taking subtle gasps of air and trying to look as if they ran that pace every day before breakfast.

  Ronnie leaned forward and stretched her back and legs, then kept walking, moving easily in the warm-ups each cheerleader wore on cool days. It would be December soon. The end of the season; no more Friday-night games.

  She glanced toward the stands again, her skin prickling in the cold. She tried not to fidget. She’d made it this far; maybe fate would make a way.

  There was a sudden murmuring among the girls. The coach was climbing slowly down from the stands, her face shadowed. Ronnie hardly listened to his words. “Each of your routines was great, but at this time …”

  The two men gathered their things and headed toward the parking lot, taking her college dreams with them.

  The other cheerleaders shared disappointed chatter as they collected their books and clothes from the locker room. One or two patted Ronnie on the arm as they passed. “If anyone would’ve made it, it would’ve been you.…”

  Ronnie exchanged pleasantries, unable to remember a moment later what she had said. She slung her backpack over her shoulder as her friends climbed into the cars waiting in the parking lot; their parents’, their boyfriends’, their own.