The Demon Trappers: Foretold (2 page)

This duo was probably part of the team of girl exorcists who had arrived in Atlanta a couple days earlier. From what Riley had heard, they’d been trying to cast out demons 24/7, including
one supposed exorcism in the middle of a bowling alley.

‘You are consorting with Hell and your soul is peril,’ one of the girls said solemnly, a petite brunette.

Riley’s soul was already the property of a certain Fallen angel, at least if Ori was still alive. She decided it was best not to mention that.

When she didn’t reply, the girl tried again. ‘We have come to save you. We will exorcise your devil and free you this very night.’

‘Look,’ Riley began, ‘I appreciate what you’re doing, but I trapped four demons today. People who work for Hell don’t do that, OK?’
Well, actually they can
but . . .

‘The Enemy is keeping you from God’s grace,’ the girl replied, raising her cross.

Riley’s enemy was currently in Hell, Lucifer’s prisoner, but these girls weren’t going to buy that. She didn’t begrudge them their job, but she didn’t want to get
caught up in it.

‘Sorry, gotta go,’ she said.

The chilly Holy Water hit her a moment later, drenching her. The cross was in her face next, along with some words that made little sense. It certain wasn’t Latin.

These aren’t real exorcists.

When Riley wiped the water out of her eyes, someone grabbed her left hand, the one with Heaven’s mark and the cross was pressed against it. There was no reaction. She didn’t want to
find out what would have happen if they tried it on Hell’s brand.

Riley wrenched herself free and backed away. ‘Will you stop that!’

The girls seemed bewildered. Apparently they’d figured the combo of Holy Water and cross application would have caused her to cast out her devil like in some late-night horror movie.

Definitely wannabes.

‘Riley?’ Beck called out as he and Simon hustled up to the scene. ‘What’s goin’ on?’

When one of the girls tried to explain, Simon cut her off. ‘Just leave her alone. You worry about your own souls.’

‘You’re working for the devil. Don’t you know that?’ one of the girls called out.

‘No more than you are,’ Beck replied. ‘Now get out of here.’

Her tormentors retreated, noticeably disappointed that they’d failed in their mission.

Riley slumped against her car, wiping her face free of mascara. If this kept happening, she’d have to buy the waterproof kind.

‘Thanks, guys.’

‘Sorry,’ Simon replied, as if he’d been responsible for the fray.

‘Part of the job, I guess,’ she replied.

Beck’s cellphone rang and he stepped away to take the call. As he listened, his expression darkened. ‘Understood. I’ll see she gets home safe.’

Before Riley could ask what that was all about, he offered Simon his keys. ‘Follow us to Stewart’s house, will you?’

‘Wait, you don’t have to—’ Riley began.

‘Yeah, I do,’ Beck retorted. ‘Just get in yer car and don’t bother to argue.’

Simon took the keys and retreated.

Wish I could.

Beck drove, mostly because her eyes were still stinging and watering.

‘Ya gonna be OK?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. I’m getting really tired of this crap.’

‘Ya were the one who put herself in the middle of it.’

When his ‘you’s’ became ‘ya’s’ he was upset. But then so was she.

Riley glowered at him. ‘Why are you being a jerk?’

‘I’m drivin’ you to Stewart’s, aren’t I?’ Then he fell silent and glowered at the traffic.

Here we go again.
Riley knew exactly where their problem lay and it wasn’t her: it was his ex-girlfriend, the reporter chick, and whatever dirt she’d uncovered about his
past.

‘I don’t see Justine backing off,’ she retorted. ‘You know, if you hadn’t slept with her, you wouldn’t be in this situation.’

She knew it was a mistake the second after she let her jealousy off its leash. Beck reacted instantly, his foot jamming hard on the brakes as they reached a stop sign. Only the seatbelt kept her
from launching into the dash.

‘Yer just like her, always tryin’ to screw with my head,’ he said, the veins sticking out on his neck. ‘I’m startin’ to regret the day I met ya.’

That stung after all they’d been through. ‘You. Are. Lying. Tell me what Justine knows that has you so scared. Come on, spill it.’

‘It’s none of yer damned business,’ he said, surging through the intersection, narrowly missing a slow-moving station wagon. ‘Give it a rest, will ya?’

Riley stared out of the side window, surprised the glass didn’t melt from her fury.

One of these days I’ll know the truth.

Beck pulled into Stewart’s driveway, then bailed out of the car though the engine was still running. Simon had barely pulled up to the kerb when he was rousted from
driver’s seat. A moment later Beck turned his truck round in the street and drove away, without ever looking back at Riley.

What a drama queen.

Riley turned off the car and gave herself time to calm down. These sorts of confrontations would continue until one of them cracked. If she was lucky, Beck would break first.

She gazed up at Master Stewart’s home while the car made funny
tick-tick
noises as the engine cooled down. Not every window in the grand Victorian structure was illuminated, but
those that were gave off a welcoming glow. Her apartment seemed so empty now that her dad was gone and, in stark contrast, this place was full of life. With its fancy gable fretwork and the
multi-storey turret, Riley swore this building had been transported to Atlanta from another century. Love felt real here, along with the promise that it could be nurtured and protected from a
violent world.

Until the Vatican’s Demon Hunters said otherwise, she was to remain under Grand Master Stewart’s wing. It wasn’t a bad thing: Stewart was a nice older Scottish guy, his house
was huge and his housekeeper was an awesome cook.

The master was in his sixties with silver hair and penetrating dark eyes. A member of the International Demon Trappers Guild, he’d lived in Atlanta for a decade, spoke a number of
languages and carried a lot of weight with both the local trappers and the Vatican. Behind the jovial smile was a clever mind and a ready wit. Her father had apprenticed with Stewart and had always
spoken of him with genuine affection. Now she knew why.

After locking the front door behind her, Riley kicked off her shoes and laid the scorched jacket on top of them. She really didn’t know why she’d kept it.

‘Lass?’ a voice called out, a rich timbre overlaid with a muted Scottish accent.

‘Coming,’ she said.

It was a habit now: when she arrived home in the evening, she would spend some time with Stewart before she went to bed. He’d be in that big den of his, sitting near the fire in the stone
hearth. They’d talk about school, about everything. It was something her father had done over breakfast every morning and after he’d died, she missed that so much. Though this
wasn’t her dad asking the questions or gently guiding her through life’s mysteries, she looked forward to this time.

As with previous nights, she found the owner of the house in his favourite chair with a copy of a Scottish newspaper in his lap and a glass of whisky at his elbow. A pipe rested in a stand near
a fat pouch of tobacco.

Though Riley was actually apprenticed to Master Harper, it was Stewart who had come to her aid when the demon hunters had arrested her, using his rank with the International Guild to plead her
case. When the ‘Inquisition’ was over, an agreement had been struck – Stewart was responsible for her behaviour and would pay with his life if she strayed too far off the
path.

Riley settled into one of the overly comfortable chairs, placing her backpack at her feet.

‘Good evenin’, lass.’

‘Master Stewart,’ she said politely. ‘Is there some reason you told Beck to drive me home?’

‘Aye. The Guild received a death threat today.’

If it’d been against the entire Atlanta Guild, Stewart wouldn’t have called Beck.

‘It was for me, wasn’t it?’

‘Aye.’

What could she say to that? Someone hated her enough to threaten to kill her, all because she’d stood between the armies of Heaven and Hell and talked them out of the Big War.

‘A few folks have figured out what happened and they’re talkin’. Some still believe ya helped those demons attack the Tabernacle. Yer just too high profile right
now.’

‘I won’t hide,’ Riley protested. ‘I have to work to pay my bills.’

‘Aye. We’ve passed the letter on ta the police and hopefully they’ll find whoever is behind it.’ Stewart loaded his pipe with tobacco and then tamped it down. ‘Give
me the run report,’ he added. ‘Harper’s at an AA meeting, so I’ll pass it on ta him.’

It wouldn’t do her any good to freak out about the threat, so she delivered her report.

‘It wasn’t a clean capture,’ she explained, ‘but we did trap that Pyro at the Five Points MARTA station.’

‘How did Simon do?’

‘OK. He didn’t freeze up or anything.’

‘How about Beck? Is he still bein’ a bear with a sore bum?’

He’d totally pegged Backwoods Boy.

‘Defnitely.’

‘Are ya willin’ ta tell me what happened between the two of ya ta make him that way?’

I swear this guy is psychic.
‘How’d you know it was about us?’ she asked, puzzled.

‘I’m good at readin’ people. It’s part of bein’ a Grand Master.’

Riley could try to avoid the question, but that wouldn’t work as Stewart would get the answer out of her eventually. Maybe he could help her figure out how to break through Beck’s
defences.

‘We had a huge argument after the trappers’ wake. I thought everything was fine between us after we . . .’ Riley’s cheeks warmed at the memory. ‘. . . kissed at the
cemetery.’

Sure they were both going to die, Beck had let down his guard, admitted he couldn’t live without her and delivered a heart-melting kiss that had completely rocked Riley’s world.

‘I was the one who told him not ta let the moment pass,’ Stewart said. ‘I told him he might not have that chance again.’

‘Oh, so that’s why he did it,’ she said, disappointment welling up inside her. ‘I thought . . .’

‘He took that bold step because he’s verra fond of ya, lass. That wasn’t a kiss between friends and ya know it.’

‘Noooo . . .’ It had been epic. Everything she’d ever hoped for.

Her host was still waiting for an explanation.

‘The morning after the wake, I went to see him. When I got to his house, that skank of a reporter chick was just leaving. Whatever she said to him set him off. He was furious.’

‘Ah, Justine Armando again. Do ya know why she was there?’

‘Beck said she’s writing another article about him and he was really worried about it.’ Riley shook her head in dismay. ‘Then suddenly he tells me to leave, says that he
doesn’t want to see me ever again. At first I thought it was something I’d done. Then he said I deserved someone better than the bastard son of a drunk who couldn’t read or
wr—’

Oh crap.
She’d let one of Beck’s biggest secrets loose in front of a master. That was very bad. ‘Oh, man, you didn’t hear that.’

‘I know he’s semi-literate, lass,’ Stewart replied. ‘Yer father told me.’

Riley sighed in relief. ‘He’d be way mad if he knew I’d said anything to you.’ Then she rolled her eyes. ‘Like it matters. He’s pissed off at me
anyway.’

‘Aye, and that troubles me. There’s somethin’ else goin’ on or Beck wouldn’t be treatin’ ya this way. Not when he was so
keen
with ya at the
cemetery.’

‘Maybe it has something to do with his mom.’

‘I’m sure he’s upset about her illness, but it’s more than that. Beck’s a warrior at heart and he will always protect those around him. In your case, it’s
even more than that, which makes me think the reporter knows something he feels will harm ya. Or change yer opinion of him. Either way, his protective instincts would come inta play.’

It was a shrewd analysis of the situation and a lot freer of emotion than Riley could manage.

‘He won’t tell me anything about his life before he came to Atlanta. It’s like he’s embarrassed or something.’

‘Paul told me a bit, but even he never got the full story.’ Stewart flicked his lighter and took a few puffs of the pipe. The sweet scent of caramel and lemon filled the air.
‘Anythin’ else?’

Riley told him about the near exorcism outside the MARTA station. He didn’t seem surprised.

‘I want ya out of sight for the next little bit. Beck’s mother is much worse and he’s leavin’ for his hometown tomorrow mornin’. Harper and I both agree –
we’d like ya ta go ta Sadlersville with him.’

Riley shook her head. ‘I’m not the best choice. He’s so mad at me I’ll only make it worse.’

‘Beck has confided in ya more than any other person I know. Though he might be actin’ like a total arse, he truly cares for ya.’ Stewart paused. ‘Even loves ya in his own
way.’

Riley’s breath caught. Maybe it hadn’t been her imagination.

‘He’s not real stable at present, and when his mother passes over it’ll be worse. He needs ya at his side, Riley, even if he denies it.’