Forbidden (50 page)

There is a moment of strained silence, and then Gabe begins, “Well, it was quite an elaborate ruse, I can tell you that. The entire mansion was a morgue.
Night of the Living Dead
meets
Amityville Horror
. I saw apparitions I hadn’t seen in years. Anyway, the kids were walking through smoke laced with numbing spice. They didn’t stand a chance.”

I lower my eyes, remembering the effect, and how I hadn’t listened to my intuition but ignored every instinct of fear I’d felt.

“After you guys bailed,” Raph jumps in all hyper like he’s describing the last clutch play of a football game, “Dante was furious, but not so much at us. He was yelling at his men, and then—for no reason I could see—he picks up Vaughn Raider and chucks him through the air. A face-plant right in a stone wall!” He laughs and claps his hands. “The entire facade comes crashing down. ’Course all the dead take off running and the gargoyles turn on each other without Vaughn to control them. So then it’s just Dante and Wolfgang staring at us. I’m poised and waiting for Wolfgang to cross my line, right? He comes at me and Dr. Killjoy over here holds me back.” He shoots Gabe a scolding look. “And then Dante starts ordering Impatience to back down. Impatience yells back, and I swear I’ve never seen such controlled rage in a demon before. Wolfgang was totally under the influence. His demon was growling and his eyes were swirling like sadistic vortexes. Anyway, they argue like we aren’t even there. Eventually, Persuasion coaxes him down and they fade out, so we leave.” Raph’s smile can be infectious but I don’t catch his enthusiasm this time.

I force a swallow and say, “I don’t understand. Why are you saying Impatience and Persuasion?”

The family is nonplussed to learn that Michael has failed to clue me in. Once again I am the outsider. Since I care about this family, their disappointment in me and my lack of prudent judgment feels like a weight on my heart.

“What?” Michael says to everyone staring at him.

Katarina wraps a comforting arm around me. “You should have taken her home.”

I want to sink into the floor. I apologize for jeopardizing her sons but that is not her concern. And then I remember that Michael said his Dad’s call was urgent. Something else has happened.

Dimitri seems reluctant to speak in front of me, but evidently his news trumps my presence. He looks at me. “I assume by this evening’s events that you understand about Dante and his pack?”

“Dante said he was a fallen angel but Michael says he is a demon. That he and his family are demons.” The words sound foreign on my tongue. If Michael’s father didn’t look so serious I might laugh.

“That’s correct. And to answer your earlier question, Dante houses the Demon of Persuasion, just as Vaughn Raider keeps the Demon of Affliction and Wolfgang the Demon of Impatience. They are Demon Knights with a dual purpose: to inflict others with their demonic disorders and to Take souls to Hell. They are bound by The Order of Reapers.” I must have an incredulous look on my face, because Dimitri continues, “Remember we talked about balance in the world, Sophia? Everything has an opposite?” I nod and understanding clicks into place.
Demons are the opposite of angels
.

“Well, I have just returned from The Council,” Dimitri continues. “We have official word on who they are stalking.”

“Stalking?” I whisper.

“The Demon Knights have a death contract from The Order allowing them to Take an Unforgiven soul. However, The Council must release the soul to them. I’ve just learned they are stalking a soul not yet released.” He is so matter-of-fact that I’m tempted to think this is a ruse, some game they’re playing to teach me to stay on my side of the street. I look around; no one is amused, not even Uriel, who is stoic and clutches a strange, furry marsupial to his chest. Michael has turned pale, and I feel an icy hand of dread clutch my heart.

“Dante was pleading for me to go home with him. He begged me to say I belonged to him so we could go home.”

“He said
home
?” Katarina shares a look of surprise with the others. “
He
was begging
you?
”

I nod, and all eyes cut to Michael. He is stone-faced and rigid.

Gabe starts muttering calculations under his breath, while Raph paces like a wild animal. “I should’ve taken care of this tonight!” he growls. “Should’ve ripped them apart when we had the chance!”

“Sophia,” Katarina says soothingly. “A demon can’t touch your soul unless you
are open, meaning you have committed a mortal sin. If you’ve been obedient
and
have faith, they can’t Take your soul. They can tempt the weak, try to break their spirit and urge them to commit sins. If someone is open to evil work, it comes easily for the demons. But ultimately it’s about free will, the choices humans make. So unless you give them permission, knowing what they are, they cannot Take your soul.”

“Dante said I
belonged
to him,” I repeat, and Katarina frowns, unsettled by his choice of words. Taking me home and claiming me for his own is obviously not normal diction for a demon. “So Dante was never an angel? He didn’t fall?”

Katarina shakes her head. “Angels are Born of Light, created for specific purposes. They, too, have free will. They, too, disobey and fall from grace. They can descend into darkness and become dark angels—as what happened during the Great Rebellion. They are in a completely different league from regular demons. Their work is catastrophic in proportion: war, famine … they wield great power. They are the counter rivals to our Archangels.” She hesitates and then chooses her words carefully. “Dante was never an angel. He was born human and died human. He was chosen by The Order to join the Knights of the Unforgiven. As a Demon Knight, he is quite powerful, ruthless, and calculating in his efforts. His reputation is that of full destruction, legendary for a demon. He resurfaces only so often. Rumors in the spirit realm say he is searching for—” She stops abruptly and the unspoken words drop like a lead balloon.

Me, he is searching for me
.

“How did he die?” I ask quietly.

“Suicide,” she whispers, and I envision Dante’s handsome face etched with pain. I remember his pleading in the pink room. I remember his outpouring of love for me.
You know how long I’ve waited for you!
I drop my head into my hands.

“It’s just a rumor, Sophia.” Raph tries to help but I hear the pity in his voice.

Michael turns on his dad. “You said The Council has not released the soul. How can The Order issue a death contract?”

“Because they think it’s inevitable.”

“How is that possible? She hasn’t done anything!” Michael yells and the energy in the room swells and vibrates.

“Because the demons are not here for Sophia. They are here for her father.”

*  *  *

I love the Gravity Vortex ride at the fair because of the way it liquefies my mind and
skews my vision as I spin around. I love the sensation of pulling up anchor to float freely inside myself. I’m experiencing a repeat performance, except now there is an annoying thought boiling in the liquid and my brain refuses to let it solidify. My reality is off kilter.

“What did you say?” I ask, because nobody else is talking.

“Dante’s prey … is your father, Sophia.” Dimitri’s admission is kind and gentle, but still it feels like an ax plunged through the sinews of my heart.

“No, that’s not right. Not
my
dad.” No one is agreeing with me, so I stumble on, “Is Dante … trying to persuade Dad to do something?”

“It’s already been done,” Dimitri says, and I feel Michael’s arm wrap around my shoulders. He is to hold me together while his father’s edict cleaves me in half. “The Council is aware that your father has committed a grave sin, one so serious they have deliberated it for some time. There are extenuating circumstances, complications, and they don’t have full compliance. The Order must have given the death contract to Dante.”

“And what is my father
supposed
to have done?”

“Murder,” Dimitri says regretfully, and my heart lurches.

I shake my head. “No! You don’t know Dad. He wouldn’t hurt anyone! He is a pastor!”
No freaking way is this going to fit inside my head!

I am ready to unleash a tirade of reasons why they are wrong, but a flourish of spiritual energy rises in the room. Something is happening.

Katarina’s eyes drift into a trance as Raph starts backing out of the room. His eyes are churning. Katarina says, “Mr. Cummings,” and Raph takes off. I hear the front door thrown against the wall, and see a light flash down the hallway.

We stand in stunned silence, but there is more. I follow them onto the front porch. “Mayor Jones,” Katarina and Gabe say together, and then he bounds from the porch, vanishing in a burst of light.

I gasp.

“Sophia, what is it?” Michael demands, but I stare without seeing; I am back at the haunted mansion where we played Hearts of Pain. Two of the three “victims” are now fighting for their lives.

“Miss Minnie,” I whimper, and Michael’s eyes sparkle like diamond chips. Katarina nods, and Michael spins away, racing from the yard. I close my eyes against the blue flash and sway with the weight of reality. Uriel and Dimitri help me to an antique rocker, and I slump, emotionally exhausted.

“Will they make it in time?” I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Miss Minnie.

“It’s too soon to tell,” Katarina answers, her voice heavy and vacant.

I cry quietly, terrified that we have somehow killed the others, that I have killed Miss Minnie. I fist my hands in my lap and notice the lavender dress riddled with holes. Dante’s tears.

Dante
. The word stops my blood.

“I need to go home,” I announce abruptly. “I have to see Dad. Can you please take me home?” Dimitri agrees, and we climb into his silver Audi. We ride in silence but it is still too loud. There is so much I want to say but nothing polite. I feel hostile toward Michael’s father, shoot the messenger and all that.

My house is dark but for the porch light. It’s almost three o’clock in the morning, and I hope Dad has been sleeping peacefully for hours. We stop at the curb, and I clutch the door handle.

“Who did he … who is my dad
supposed
to have murdered?” I almost choke on the words; there is a lump in my throat that I can’t overcome. Dimitri’s pained expression says I’ve asked a forbidden question, so I yank open the door. He grabs my arm.

“Sophia, please remember The Council has not passed judgment yet. Your father has plenty of time. Don’t frighten him unnecessarily. It will be hard but you must be brave, for him.” I nod and try to say thanks but nothing comes out.

I flick on the lights as I move through the house. Over and over my mind works on the question.
Who could Dad have killed and why?
The kitchen is empty so I move into the foyer.
Who do I know who has died recently? Was it recently?
Sundance didn’t attack me with slobbery kisses and I find him curled on the couch like a hedgehog. I absently drag my hand over his soft, golden body. He is submissive and trembling; I am suspicious. My eyes shoot to Dad’s bedroom door. It’s closed, and I relax minutely but walk over. I crack it open, peek inside, and then slam it against the wall. Dad isn’t there.

Panic rips through me as I race around the house bursting through doors and yelling for Dad. Up the stairs and down. Every nook and cranny. Dad isn’t here. Sundance has recovered and barks and scratches to get out. I can’t think with all the racket, so I fumble with the door as he pushes through. I lean against the doorjamb and think. The only person I know who has died is … Mom. A wave of queasiness hits me. I want to cry but fear has turned me cold.

Sundance bolts from the yard and runs across the park like his tail is on fire. He heads straight for the courthouse. My eyes climb up the tall brick building to the third floor. The windows are illuminated, and somehow I know.

I clutch my dress and sprint across the square. Sundance is clawing at the door and I yank him back and slip inside. The grand staircase is shadowed and still with a dopey-looking scarecrow poised at the base holding a sign that reads,
And Justice for All!

I race up the stairs until I reach the third floor. I am panting as quietly as panting goes. Light shines down the hallway, and I move into it with all the confidence of a three-legged mouse. One prayer is making rounds in my head.
Don’t let him be here. Please, don’t let him be here
. I step into the room and there is Dad, slumped in a chair amid the town council’s holiday boxes.

He is wearing pajamas and a T-shirt and his hair is mussed as though he had been plucked from bed. His hands are in his lap and his feet are tucked beneath the chair, submissive like a little boy in a time-out. His left eye is swollen and red, and blood seeps from cuts on his forehead and lips. He is trembling.

When I march in, Dad’s head snaps up. His good eye bulges with fear, and I track the source across the room. Wolfgang is propped on the edge of a table with a leg swinging back and forth. Black from head to boot and slapping a riding whip against his leg, he looks appropriately sinister. I recall what I’ve been told about him but the evidence is there in his eyes. Vacant and lifeless—a man crossbred with evil.
How could I not have known?

“Ah, the irrepressible Queen Mab
finally
arrives to perk up our nightmare.” He exaggerates a sigh. “I got so tired of waiting I sent your do-gooders off on a few errands. I’m impatient, what can I say?” Wolfgang grins, and I am sure somewhere something small and meek just died.

Dad whispers, “Sophia, go home. This doesn’t concern you.” My heart aches at the sight of him, but then turns cold when I hear Wolfgang’s bellowing laughter.

“What are you doing with him?” I make demands on the demon because apparently that’s what you do right before your heart explodes. His arrogance is bringing my courage out of hiding. I march toward Dad and hear a
whoosh
, and then Wolfgang is standing before me. I have to stop abruptly or risk running into him.