One Handsome Devil (32 page)

"There was also a church van driving by. The driver saw flying gray figures tearing at the car. After the accident, they found inexplicable scrapes on the car's roof."

"I never heard about a church van before."

"I was in it,” Bob said quietly. “I was just a teenager then, but that sight changed my life forever. Later, after I got out of seminary, I moved to Dallas and looked up your grandmother. I wanted to find out what had caused those devils to terrorize your parents. I swore I'd dedicate my life to fighting demons."

He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. His tears too appeared genuine.

"Well—"

He held up a hand to forestall her counterattack. “I already apologized for what happened last night. You have to understand that the most determined of that group has had demonic experience. Some have been possessed. Others have lost loved ones to the demons’ attack."

"Jack isn't like that."

"Darling, you admit he's a demon, don't you?” Maura put in. “I knew he was a strange one, but those horns prove it. Demons are pure evil. If he puts on a pretty front, it is only to confuse you. He wants your soul."

Jack had told her that some demons had faded to imps, and that somehow, over the centuries, they were able to accumulate physical substance. Could human souls fuel their survival? Jack was larger and more powerful than the imps. Could this merely mean that he had harvested more souls? Surely not.

"I don't believe you."

Bob nodded. “Forgiveness is a beautiful virtue. But forgiveness is for humans. Demons are angels of God turned in rebellion against him. They are pure evil. You cannot, dare not, love a demon, forgive a demon, or spare a demon.” His voice rose to a crescendo as he spoke.

Sara knew there was something wrong with what he was telling her but she couldn't figure out what it could be. “I'm not agreeing with anything you say, but what do you want me to do?"

Bob stood, then knelt by her chair and took her hand in his, barely missing a shot of pepper spray in the eyes. “You have played with powers beyond your comprehension, Sara. The Hiroshima bomb pales compared to what a single demon could do. If he is able to gate across others of his kind, this may be the final step that rushes Judgment Day."

Her skin crawled under his touch. “I'd feel more comfortable if you sat down and took your hands off me."

"Our comfort, yours or mine, matter little compared to what you have done.” Still, Reverend Bob stood and started back to the couch.

He stopped suddenly, seized the stub of a black candle that had rolled under her couch, and held it aloft like a football player holding up the ball after a touchdown. He spun and faced her again. “You were the one who brought him forth. You are the one who must return him to the pits of Hell."

Jack stood up from the uncomfortable school desk, checked to make sure his name was on the test sheet, and headed for the sleepy-eyed proctor.

"Giving up?” The test proctor glared at Jack.

"I've completed the test."

"Very funny. We only started this section five minutes ago."

"I'm a speed reader."

The proctor shrugged his shoulders. “Hell, I wouldn't want to go to graduate school either. Good luck."

Jack shrugged his shoulders and left. He was certain he'd scored perfectly on the math and English portions of the Graduate Record Exam, and that he'd also been accurate on questions relating to the history of philosophy. The essay, probing his own philosophical beliefs, had been more challenging.

He looked around, made sure no one was watching, then took off.

His wings had healed slowly from the bullets that had torn into them. This earthly paradise couldn't come close to the continual tortures of hell, but it could be pretty miserable in its own way. Now, though, his wings managed to bear his weight although he would have been hard-pressed to lift both himself and Sara as he once had.

Damn. He didn't mean to think about her. He'd lost her when he'd possessed her. Worse, he could no longer even sense her presence. She'd vanished from his internal radar scope just as Derrick had. Unlike Derrick, though, Sara left a void in what substituted for a demon's soul.

"Back so soon?” Katra looked up from her newspaper and coffee.

"There wasn't much to it."

She laughed. “That isn't the way I remember it. They must have been laughing at me in New Jersey where they grade those things. I think I set the record for the worst score on math, ever."

That startled him. “Are you joking?"

She shook her head. “I think I would have done better if I'd just randomly picked my answers."

"But you're intelligent. You should be able to do math."

"Yeah, and we live in a liberated world, right? Back in junior high school, my mother made sure I got signed up for the business math program. Algebra and Trigonometry were too hard for girls. At least for girls from our side of the track."

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to her. “Does it bother you a lot?"

Katra looked at her hands for a moment. “Well, it would mean some serious extra bucks if I could get my master's degree."

"So you just want it for money?” There were easier ways to make money than spending years in a classroom.

"Sure.” She met his eyes for a moment, then looked away. “All right, I think it would be cool, too. My mother always said I was stupid and I'd like to show her. And maybe show myself too. So sue me."

He looked into Katra, seeing the memories, the blocks, the limitations she'd put on herself.

"Would you like me to fix it?"

"What, going to spend some of your money to buy me one of those diplomas from the ads at the back of
Cosmopolitan
? I don't think that would do the job."

"I could free your block about math."

"Get out of here.” Did a faint trace of hope linger on the words?

"You're not stupid, just afraid."

"Yeah? Talk about the pot calling the kettle."

That surprised him. “You think I'm afraid?"

"When was the last time you talked to Sara?"

"When was the last time you talked to her? She's been hiding."

"And you've looked so hard.” Katra twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Did you mean it when you said you could unblock my math?"

Jack nodded. “Fix a car, fix a bone, fix a brain. It's sort of the same."

She shuddered. “You know, I'm not sure I want your hands inside my brain."

"That's why I asked.” That, and maybe because he'd learned a lesson from Sara and wouldn't just go sticking himself into other people's business quite so much any more. “It wouldn't be my hands, though. It would be worse."

"If you're propositioning me, this is a really weird way to do it. And I'm not going to do it with my best friend's boyfriend."

"I'm not propositioning you, and I'm not Sara's boyfriend."

She ignored his protest. “So tell me what you have to do, then."

"Did Sara tell you I'd possessed her?"

"Uh-huh.” Katra wrinkled her nose. “I've never seen her so pissed."

"I'd have to possess you too. For just long enough to free the block."

"Then you'd get out?"

"Of course."

Sara's knuckles whitened as she listened to the bug Reverend Bob had planted at Katra's house.

Jack had tried to possess her and now he was tricking Katra into agreeing to a possession. Bob and Maura were right.

"Let's do it,” she said.

Bob opened the door to the church van and the nine hefty and smelly church men got out and headed up Katra's sidewalk.

"For God's sake, hurry,” she screamed after them. “Save Katra."

Maura grasped her hand and squeezed. “Don't worry, darling. Bob will take care of things."

She shook off her grandmother's grasp and got out of Bob's car. Although Bob had hoped that he could handle the exorcism himself, he had admitted that he might need Sara's help since she was the one who had called him to the human plane.

Bob had bribed Katra's mother and sister with a weekend trip to Shreveport in exchange for their permission to bug their home and a key to the front door. He led the men in, his hand held in the air for silence.

One of the men carried a large wooden stake and mallet. He'd probably been watching too many
Buffy
shows.

Sara tried to keep her mouth shut, but failed. “Put that thing away. Somebody could get hurt."

He glared at her, then jabbed his stake in Katra's direction. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you summoned the demon."

Katra rolled on the floor, her breath coming in short gasps, sweat streaming from every pore. Jack was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is he?” she demanded.

"He's taken her over, entered into her,” Bob replied.

He opened his Bible.

"I think she's having an epileptic fit.” Sara felt her voice rising but now was not the time to act calm. “We need a doctor, not the Bible."

"The Bible is eternal.” Reverend Bob paged through, stopped, then stabbed the page with a finger. “Here we go."

Katra's head pounded against the floor and her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. She screamed.

Sara knelt by her friend, holding her head still. “You're going to be all right, Katra.” She hoped.

"Vile spirit, I command you to free this woman from your unwelcome hold,” Bob intoned. He began reading from
Revelations
.

Katra wrenched her head in Sara's arms. For an instant, her eyes rolled back to normal—except they weren't normal. They were darker and glowed with an inner light that Sara recognized too well. “Jack."

Katra licked her lips. “We're busy right now."

Except the voice wasn't right, either. It was Jack's voice, stepped up a couple of octaves to Katra's normal pitch.

Reverend Bob stopped in mid-chant. “I was right. That is the demon."

"What happened to Jack?” Sara wasn't sure whether she was asking Rev. Bob or the bizarre Katra/Jack hybrid she held in her arms.

"He's inside Katra,” Rev. Bob answered. “That's what they do. They go inside of people, control them, then drain them until there's nothing left but the demon."

Katra's body shuddered again and Sara felt an echo in her own soul. She had been so close to this fate herself. Instead of doing anything, she'd allowed Jack to betray her friend.

"Fight it, Katra. You have help now."

"It hurts so bad.” This time, the voice was pure Katra although a Katra that Sara hardly recognized. Sweat plastered her thin t-shirt to her curvy figure, something that more than one of Reverend Bob's minions snickered about.

"Maybe you should use holy water, boss,” one of Bob's assistants suggested. “I seen that in the movies once. Pour it all over that t-shirt."

"Frank, did it ever occur to you that we're Protestants?” Bob shot back. “We don't believe in holy water."

"I'm not talking about what we believe, just what the demons believe. And a little more wet on that t-shirt wouldn't hurt none."

"Just grab her, will you?"

Sara felt hard hands grasping her shoulders pulling her away from her friend—or what had once been her friend.

"Not her, idiot,” Bob said. “The one on the floor. Keep her from hurting herself."

"Oh. Yeah. My pleasure, boss.” Frank dropped Sara and bent over Katra.

Rev. Bob might be a religious man, but his assistants were a mixed bag. Rather than restraining Katra's thrashing head, Frank went straight for her breasts.

When his hands neared their target, Katra froze.

"No.” Jack's voice was commanding.

"Have to keep you from hurting yourself,” Frank murmured as he closed the gap.

Just as contact was inevitable, a searing flash of light akin to a lightning bolt strobed the air. Frank spun away from Katra, his hands smoking.

"Keep them away, Sara.” It sounded like Katra's voice, but was it? Or was it simply Jack, trying once again to manipulate her into doing what he wanted?

"We're trying to help you,” Sara said. She took Katra's head in her arms again. “I'll hold her,” she told Bob. “You can keep your creeps away."

"Frank, go guard the door,” Reverend Bob told him.

"What happened?” Frank sounded as confused as he usually looked.

"Just do what I tell you.” Reverend Bob flipped through his Bible. “We've got to get Katra free of that thing."

"I only need another minute.” Jack's voice. “Keep him away, Sara. Make him stop."

Another minute before he destroyed her friend. Did he seriously expect that she would help him with that?

"He's afraid of angels and of the name God,” she told Reverend Bob. “Please, drive him out before he kills Katra."

"I'm doing what I can.” Bob looked frightened. “I've trained for this all my life, but I truly haven't had any experience with this kind of thing before."

"It's too late to call in a professional. Just do it."

"Stop it, Sara.” Katra's voice.

"I'm trying to stop him,” she whispered. She found a tissue and wiped off Katra's face.

For all the good it did, she might as well have tried to stop the Trinity River. Katra burned with demonic heat.

"It hurts so bad."

"Bob is going to fix it."

As if on cue, Bob began chanting again. This time, the words didn't even sound like English although Sara recognized some.

"Jehovah, Yahweh, Alpha, Omega."

Katra/Jack winced at each word in Reverend Bob's chant.

Reverend Bob trailed off. “I never really learned any of the angel's names."

"Why isn't it working?” Time was definitely not on her side.

"I can't do it.” Bob closed his Bible and sat on Katra's couch. “It's up to you."

"Me?” Sara objected. “I don't know anything about demonic possession."

"I warned you this could happen. You brought him here. You know his true name, which I don't. When you call on the names of power, he has to listen."

"But—"

Reverend Bob surged back to his feet. “If you value your friend, you'll cast out this evil demon before he consumes her utterly."

"Don't listen to him.” Katra's voice. “He's not hurting me."