Demonsense (Demonsense series Book 1) (19 page)

“Perhaps if you could tell me a little of what concerns you? Or perhaps Walter would like to tell me?” He looked enquiringly again at Justice, but Justice had wandered off up the aisle, back toward the door.

“Oh, thank you Father! Well, you see, Walter is so different now. So angry. He gets upset easily, and he never used to be like that. And he, he…” Franchesca looked down at her hands and continued in a softer voice, “He's been cruel to his two dogs. And his voice is different, Father, and his eyes. He’s not sleeping, and he’s eating everything in sight. And he hardly talks to anyone anymore, unless he’s angry. He agreed to come here with me, but when he got here, he changed his mind. Jerry and I practically had to force him to come into the church. Jerry told me he heard Walter talk in what sounded like another language, and when he asked Walter about it, he looked at Jerry like he was crazy, didn’t he Jerry?’

Scanlon nodded, and replied, “It’s true, I heard it.” His small part played, he sat back and watched Franchesca wind up her performance.

“I do realize, Father, that this all sounds like it could be depression. But you see, I really do know Walter. And when I look into his eyes, when I touch him, I feel cold and frightened. I feel evil, Father, I really do!” She delivered this last line with a quite convincing little shudder.
 

Father Steuban sat quietly for a moment after she finished, looking thoughtful. Scanlon felt the urge to hurry things along. He was getting hungry. Franchesca must have sensed something, because she shot him a quelling glance.

“Well of course, I’ll be happy to talk to Walter, if Walter wishes it,” Father Steuban finally responded. Justice had come closer again, and gruffly mumbled, “Okay,” when the priest looked over at him.
 

Father Steuban got up and gestured for Justice to come with him. He walked slowly with Justice toward the front of the church, speaking with him so quietly that Scanlon couldn’t hear anything. Franchesca knelt in apparent prayer, and Scanlon joined her. “This is looking promising,” Franchesca murmured

“God, I hope so,” Scanlon replied. “I’m starving. Please tell me we can get something to eat after this one. I know this Korean place near here…”

They were interrupted by a shout from Justice. Father Steuban had maneuvered him up to the altar and had apparently handed him a crucifix. “Looks like the priest knows what he’s doing,” Franchesca said, looking intently at the action at the front of the church. “The crucifix alone probably wouldn’t have gotten that reaction. He must have tried one of the testing prayers along with it.”

Scanlon’s interest was piqued at that. He really didn’t recall that much about exorcism. Once it had been clear to him he didn’t have Exorcist or Demon Master talent, he’d figured he didn’t need to know any more about it and focused instead on developing his Caster abilities. “That'd make him the first priest we've seen in all this who might actually know something about exorcisms.”

“Most priests, especially here in America, wouldn’t know a demon if it bit them on the ass,” she answered derisively, albeit quietly.
 

Justice had moved away from the priest, and was rubbing his palm. Father Steuban was apparently talking rapidly now, and put out a hand in supplication. After a time, Justice nodded in affirmation to something the priest said. The priest reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, wiped his hands and forehead with it, then gestured back to where Scanlon and Franchesca were kneeling. He and Justice walked back toward them, and Father Steuban joined them again on the pew.

“I admit, there is some cause for concern with your cousin, Margaret. I think perhaps it may be worth taking the next step.”

“Is it to be an exorcism then, Father?”

“It may come to that, but first, there’s someone I want Walter to meet. There are some laypeople that have a gift for perceiving demons and assisting in exorcisms. As you may recall, in scripture, Jesus tells his disciples to cast out demons. I don’t think Our Lord meant that only the priests of his church would be able to do so. I believe we all have some responsibility to be alert for evil in all its forms, and that God has given some of us special abilities to do this work. I’m afraid, though, that it’s not likely to be the same person who helped your aunt’s friend. She suffered a death in the family and needs to take care of herself right now. I do know a man who could help, but I don’t believe he will be available immediately.”

“Oh, but Father,” Franchesca implored, “I don’t think that’s going to work! I really believe that if Walter is willing to try this now, we have to act quickly. It seems he’s only willing to listen to me on this. Jerry tried to take him to a priest before, but Walter wouldn’t have it. And I have to leave so soon! Besides, we told him what we heard about this woman who helped someone we actually know, and that’s what decided him to come. I know it’s a lot to ask, but couldn’t Walter just meet her? Maybe if she met Walter, she’d care enough to, to…”
 
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a tissue, and dabbed artfully at her eyes.

Father Steuban looked flustered, “Well I suppose I could ask Bree, but I honestly can’t say if she’ll be available.”

“I can only ask that you try, Father. Would it help if I called and talk to this Miss…” She put a hand again on his sleeve.

The priest didn’t bite. “No, no need. I’ll call her and put your case before her. If you could just wait here a minute while I go to my office, I’ll give her a ring now.”

“Shit!” Franchesca hissed once the priest was out of range. “I almost had the name from him. Now I’ll have to try a casting, and I don’t have
time
.” She carefully placed the bit of thread she’d purloined from the priest’s cassock sleeve down on top of the tissue she’d been holding in her hand. Then she pulled her purse off her shoulder, and dumped the contents on the pew next to her. She rummaged frantically around in the debris until she came up with a piece of copper wire, a dirty grey feather, a yellow silk scarf, and a small knife.
 

She spread out the scarf, arranged the thread on it with the copper wire touching it, placed the feather next to the wire, then pricked her left thumb with the knife. She touched the drop of blood that welled up to the opposite end of the wire and held it there.
 
She took up the feather with her other hand, and waved it five times over the middle of the wire, eyes closed, chanting an incantation under her breath. Then she touched the feather to the wire, then to each of her eyelids. She sat silent after that, brow furrowed in furious concentration. Finally, a gasp escaped her lips. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly, then opened. She dropped the feather, and grabbed up a pen and a scrap of paper, and scribbled what looked like a phone number down. “Got it,” she said with satisfaction.

Scanlon was impressed. Franchesca had just put together a seeing spell in less than a minute, with less than ideal ritual objects. A thread from the priest’s cassock was precious little to work with to connect her to him. Blood was always good, of course, especially with copper wiring as a connector, but using the feather, and the yellow scarf as air symbols, presumably to convey what the priest was seeing to her eyes through the medium of air, that was inspired. She’d clearly just watched the priest dial the number through the connection she’d cast. Scanlon was already thinking of ways he might use the spell, if he could come up with an incantation and some kind of internal focus. He figured it was no accident she hadn’t done the incantation aloud. She probably wanted to keep it to herself.
 

Father Steuban came back into the church just as Franchesca was tidying away the last of the items from her purse. “I’m afraid she wasn’t in,” he said apologetically.
 
“I’ll try her again later. If I could just get your number?”

Franchesca went back into her purse and came up with another scrap of paper and wrote down a number that Scanlon knew had to be a false one. “Thank you so much, Father. You can call me at this number any time, day or night.”

Justice had already made his way out of the church, and Scanlon and Franchesca were left to make their goodbyes to the priest. Justice joined them again as they left the church and headed for Scanlon’s car. “Now we just have to do a reverse look up and get this Bree’s address,” Franchesca said briskly. “I think it’s a good lead. She has to be powered, and an Exorcist.”

“If it’s a cell phone, reverse look up won’t work,” Scanlon replied. “I’m sure we can still locate her, but it may take a little longer.”

“Bree,” Justice said slowly, in his own voice this time. “I just remembered. I think that’s what Thorvaldson called her, after the battle. I think he said, “Bree, get me out of here.”

Franchesca turned on Justice, and raised her hand. A look of cold anger crossed her face. “Tirakku! Why didn't you tell me this before?”

Justice put both hands over his face in a protective motion, and a whining sound emerged between his fingers. “I didn’t remember, Master!”
 

“Ms. Gambrini, I’m not sure this is the place,” Scanlon said quietly.
 

Franchesca dropped her hand, whirled around, and walked rapidly toward the car. Scanlon followed, and gave in to the impulse to roll his eyes, now that she wasn’t looking at him. He was relieved they had a solid lead. He’d had just about enough of this servility bullshit.
 

Chapter 10

“You
were supposed to talk me out of this, you know," Bree told Sophie as she brushed out Bree's hair with long, slow strokes. "I expected Bruce’s curiosity to get the better of him, but I was counting on you to tell me I’d lost my mind.”

Bree could hear the tension in Sophie's voice as she replied, “Maybe we’ve all lost our minds. But he’s very convincing, your Daniel.”

“Hah! That’s why you and Bruce are here, to make sure he’s not ‘my Daniel’ in any way. If I’m monitoring him while he interacts with the demon, I need someone monitoring me, then someone monitoring the monitor. And, for the record, I’m not interested in him that way.”

Sophie snorted. “That’s not what I saw when you were both over here last night. And don’t take my word for it. Bruce read it.”

Bree colored. “Okay, okay. So I find him attractive, in a weird, confused kind of way. But that doesn’t mean I’m interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Certainly not while we’re trying this experiment, and probably not ever. How could I ever trust him?”
 

“You’re trusting him tonight. Possibly with your life. With mine and Bruce’s and Kevin’s too, for that matter.”
 
She gave Bree's hair a final stroke, patted her on the shoulder and got up to put the brush back on the dresser. She leaned up against it, facing Bree.

“I trust him for now, for this," Bree replied, looking up at Sophie. "I trust him when he says he’s called a demon safely before, and that our protections are adequate. I trust that his intentions are good. But I don’t really trust that it will stay safe, for any of us, and especially for him. I think it would be like letting yourself fall for someone with a terminal illness. How long will he stay uncorrupted? How long will he stay sane?” She shook her head and regarded her friend wistfully. “Daniel the retired Keeper, him I’d like to get to know. Daniel the Demon Master, well, even if all this succeeds, I’m afraid his sanity is likely to be a lost cause in the end.”

Sophie put her hands on her ample hips. “Don’t you Catholics have a patron saint of lost causes? St. John, or St. Joe or something?”

“St. Jude,” Bree replied with a reluctant smile.
 

“Well, get some prayers going to St. Jude then!”

“You know, that might be appropriate for tonight at the least. We are attempting something here that’s considered impossible.”

“Oh, we had impossible for breakfast. This is just improbable.”

They shared a strained laugh, and finished dressing in silence. Sophie had insisted that both she and Bree wear dresses as part of calling up feminine energy to balance the energy of the greater number of men who were to be present. Bree realized that Sophie’s attention to detail on this was a measure of her nervousness, so she agreed in spite of the chilly weather. Bree had chosen the warmest dress she owned, a blue and green floral print with fitted three quarter length sleeves, topped with a soft green cashmere cardigan. Sophie was in a flowing blue dress shot through with silver thread, and she'd arranged a filmy silver scarf loosely around her neck.
 

Just as they completed their preparations, Daniel and Kevin arrived. Kevin had picked Daniel up at Bree’s, where he’d been resting in anticipation of tonight’s working.
 
He'd stayed the last three days with her on the theory that he'd be hard to trace there, and so far, there’d been no sign of the people who had attacked him at his place.

Daniel stood by awkwardly as the friends exchanged warm greetings. Sophie quickly got down to business. "All right folks, if we're going to try calling a demon, let's do it quick before I have a chance to think too hard about it." She turned and led the way upstairs.

"Okay, everyone," Bree began as they all gathered in Sophie and Bruce's worship room. "Thanks for all your input on the ritual for tonight. I think we've got good precautions planned out, now we just have to do this thing. Kevin, if you would do the honors?"
 

As a Warder, Kevin didn't need to form and cast a spell, or do a ritual to create a ward around the house and the room. He simply closed his eyes for a brief moment, raised his arms, and the energetic background hum of strong wards rose in a comforting wall at their backs. He was there to prevent interruptions from outside and to help keep the demon inside. Everyone there had the ability for some basic personal wards, and Kevin went around and reinforced them all, placing his palm on the warding symbols each had marked on their hands.
 

Sophie took over at that point. As exorcisms were best performed either outside or in a location considered sacred space, Bree had reasoned that performing the working in Bruce and Sophie’s worship room was the best location they had that would still be private. Sophie began with the ritual of creating a sacred circle.