by Harley James
Jade whistled. “Damn, girl, you’re glowing. But with a sex-god Viking taking care of you, I shouldn’t be surprised. Seriously, you look great, honey.”
“Thanks.” Katherine examined the bodies in the Devil’s Trap on the dance floor. Only six of them. Her heart rate sped up. “Where’s Makoa?” She turned back to Jade. “If he’s not healed by now...”
Jade chuckled without looking up. “Put your claws away. Ari made Father Angus exorcise Makoa first. He’s in the break room grabbing lunch with Nani and the priest.”
“What about the other priest—Father Murphy?”
“Alexios and Ari took Murphy to San Francisco to help with the shitstorm there.”
“As they’ve done the exorcisms, have either of the priests shown any ill effects from the Nephilim toxin?”
“Ari was really careful about that, but thankfully, no. Looks like it only affects Healers because of the way you guys suck the essence into your bodies, unlike the priests who use the sacred ritual.”
“Good.” Katherine exhaled, her neck and shoulders relaxing as she moved past the tables toward the dance floor where the Possessed watched her approach with shifting gazes. Usually the newly Possessed were a noisy lot, flocking to nightclubs where the normal chaos of the setting made it easier for them to hide their crazy. But during the low-key hours before the club’s opening, this calm behavior on their part was eerie.
She glanced back over her shoulder at Jade. “Why are they so quiet?” she asked.
“They must’ve worn themselves out when they watched the priests work on the others,” Jade said. “I ’spose they’re conserving their energy to fight Father Angus when he comes back from lunch.”
It sucked that they had to do all the exorcisms the old-fashioned way, but she and other Healers couldn’t afford constant tainting by the Nephilim blood. So, time to stop gawking at these freakishly quiet possessions and get to work.
She’d almost reached the break room when a well-built man with a steel-colored beard and spiked hair emerged from the kitchen wearing pink jeans and a short-sleeved gray clerical shirt and collar. And behind him…Makoa.
Katherine smiled at the young Hawaiian, her heart easing when he nodded with an answering smile. His color looked good, and though his warm brown eyes didn’t quite project that peaceful serenity she’d yearned to bottle a million times in the last decade, his comportment was calm.
She held out her hands to the priest. “It’s about time you two stopped stuffing your gourds. You’ve kept me waiting.”
Father Angus bypassed her hands and went in for a sturdy hug. “Happy to see you, too, lass.” He stepped back and thwacked her shoulders, his sleeve tattoos shadowed in the darkened hallway. “Seems like ages since we stuck it to Asmodeus’s bastards at Mirage.”
Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “Indeed. Maybe because we both almost died.”
“Och, that hard chaw Viking wouldn’t ever let that happen to you. What’s the story on you two anyway?”
She decided to let the Viking inquiry pass as much as it made her stomach swirly. “Not much juicy gossip around here.”
He chuckled bawdily. “That’s not what I heard with my own ears a couple hours ago.”
Her face heated as the priest stepped aside to bring Makoa into the conversation. The men shared some unspoken communication that had her glancing between them.
“Katherine, may I have a word in private?” Makoa asked.
His soft-spoken words made her heart begin to pound. Had she missed something in his demeanor? She stared at him for a moment before she turned and led him down the hallway to the business office she shared with Jade. Once the door was closed, Katherine reached for Makoa’s hand, the gesture making her feel exposed, but unwilling to let it stop her.
She hadn’t been much of a mother figure to him these past ten years, but she’d done her best to clothe, house, feed, and educate him and his older sister. He’d been a boy of eleven, Konani just fifteen, when she’d found them. She’d probably always feel they were hers—even when they were old. The thought of them not being around someday…
She swallowed past a hard knot in her throat. “You had us worried. How are you feeling?”
His other hand came up to sandwich hers between his two palms. “I’m grateful to be free of the demon, but I feel awful that I’ve been living a lie. I believe it led to my possession. I could’ve hurt you, my sister, or the others.”
Katherine shook her head. “But you didn’t. You fought the demon and were ready to kill yourself to prevent that. And if this is about you coming out, you have nothing to fear. I’ve known for a while.”
Makoa’s eyes widened. “No.”
She smiled and nodded. “For about two years.”
He looked down at their joined hands, then quickly back up at her, trying to read something in her steady gaze. Finally, “You’re not ashamed of me?”
His whole body was shaking. She dropped his hands and pulled him in for a hug. “God, no. I’m the one who should be ashamed for making you wonder. You are the gentlest soul I’ve ever known. Being gay is not what made you vulnerable to evil. It was your guilt. It’s a poison that eats away at your insides.” She should know. She held on to him until his quivering ceased, then brushed at her eyes and pulled back. “Love is a gift no matter who it comes from. All I want for you is to be happy.”
Makoa squeezed her again, rocking her side to side. “Where would Konani and I be without you?” When he stepped back, his smile shone like diamonds in the snow of Ari’s homeland. “You gave us new life when we had no hope. Now, I feel like I am reborn once more. Thank you, ʻānela kiaʻi.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone finding those children and not doing anything. “Just so we’re clear, the next time you have such a huge weight on your mind, don’t wait so damn long to tell me. And no more guilt. Got it?”
He nodded with twinkling eyes. “That ‘no more guilt’ also applies to you, you know. As my role model, you’re obliged to take care of yourself, too.”
Katherine snorted. “Your role model, huh? That might be the biggest lie you’ve ever told, brat.”
“I love you, Katherine. I also want you to be happy.” He leaned down to kiss both her cheeks, then walked out of the office, quietly closing the door behind him.
Katherine stood, staring at Jade’s bulletin board filled to the brim with notes and pictures that called to mind happy times. How had she managed to have such wonderful people in her life?
They even loved her.
She thought about that—really thought about it—for the first time as she slumped down into the sumptuous white leather chair she’d bought for Jade after seeing her admire it in a catalog. Jade had cried when it was delivered, going on about how thoughtful it was. Katherine had imagined it was only because of the price tag.
Yet Jade had also cried when Katherine had brought her her favorite flower, which she’d picked along the side of the road on her way to work.
Katherine sat in Jade’s chair and ran her fingers along the buttery-soft armrests, smiling as a strange new lightness settled in her chest.
Maybe it was finally time to let go of the past. Time to believe she deserved the love of the special people in her life. They hadn’t stuck around for no reason, right? She paid well, but so did a lot of other places where they wouldn’t have to deal with demonic horrors on a near-daily basis.
And of course, there was her Viking.
She reached into the ether to find him. To tell him she wanted him back as soon as possible. When she found his essence at Spencer’s club, there was a startle and a sudden disturbance, which meant he was engaged in battle. She gathered her strength and sent as much power as she could through their connection, praying to the God who’d given her this second chance that Ari would prevail and come back to her.
That she would overcome the evil that was currently on her own doorstep.
And inside her.
She stood and was on he
r way to gather all her staff so they could devise a strategy for dealing with Leviathan, Siolazar, and the rest of their problems when a knock sounded. She opened the office door to find Father Angus. “Is everyone okay?”
“Aye, rest easy, lass. Jade dispatched me to find you. She figures you’d be the least surly with me since I haven’t had much chance to annoy you.”
“Don’t worry, priest, the day’s young yet. You’ll have your chance.” They both laughed as they walked down the hall toward the dance floor. “I hear you’ve had a full morning of exorcisms. I feel terrible that I’m not able to assist in my usual manner. You’ll have to refresh my memory on how to do things the old-fashioned way.”
“We’ll do fine. Things aren’t as bad here yet, not like what Spencer’s dealing with against Archdemon Baal. For whatever reason, your archdemon is acting the maggot with you instead of going full-court press.”
She stopped and turned to him. “Then you should be in San Francisco fighting Baal with the others.”
The priest hooked his arm through hers to continue walking them toward the Devil’s Trap, where the Possessed broke their silence to strike up bone-jarring shrieks. “Life is going on as usual here on O‘ahu for most everyone, but something is brewing. I’m sure you feel it,” he said.
“But—”
“Someone has to do the exorcisms. Plus Michael instructed me to remain here. That’s all I need to know.”
Interesting. Or unnerving. “Is the archangel appearing to you?”
“Well, not exactly. But trust me, the scary bugger’s getting his message across.”
Katherine nodded. That she knew all about. She looked at the bedeviled humans, feeling her unease about Ari’s absence fade. This was her purpose. To heal humans for as long as she could. It didn’t matter if they deserved it or not. That piece of the puzzle wasn’t hers to judge. “How do you want to do this? Each one together, or divide and conquer?”
Father Angus assessed the writhing mass of bodies and cracked his knuckles. “I think we make a go of ’em together. They’ve had a chance to perk up, and I’m not liking the look of that gouger on the right.”
Katherine agreed. The man was built like a wine barrel, and his eyes had already started blinking in and out of that black, soulless gaze. She narrowed her eyes and smiled. “Let’s do him first.”
“You have a streak of the devil in you as well, do you not?” He returned her smile. “But then, I suppose you Guardians have to have a little black in your marrow to carry your yoke.”
Katherine signaled for Stark before turning back to Angus. “Are you saying you don’t, Father?”
“What, have a touch of the devil in me? Of course I do. More than a touch, I’d wager.” His eyes probed hers. “You still feeling the darkness inside? Ari mentioned the Nephilim toxin because he thought it might be important for me to know.”
She chafed at the thought that others knew of her vulnerability, but she supposed he was right. She nodded. “The sense of waiting and watching in my blood is there, but physically, I’m much better since I’m no longer exposing myself to the poison over and over. I’m trying not to think about it. There’s too much to be done.”
Angus put a hand on her shoulder, saying a prayer of protection in a loud voice. When he finished, he squeezed her shoulder. “Let me know if the exorcisms get to be too much.”
“I will,” she replied.
Stark’s heavy boots scuffed the dance floor as he approached with his usual swagger. Katherine lifted her brows, but didn’t say anything for once. There was a time when she’d have made him get down on his hands and knees and buff the marks out with the shirt on his back.
And he’d have sported attitude the whole time, then retaliated in a more private fashion later. Like leaving her to deal with a catty staff member instead of taking care of those little dramas like he usually did.
She appreciated his irreverence and discreet rebellion.
He liked that she wasn’t up in his business all the time.
They understood one another.
“Stark, bring the iron chains.” He started to turn away to ignore her when she added, “Please.”
He raised a brow, and she grinned, tickled that she’d thrown him off guard with unexpected civility. When he returned with the chains from the storage room, he ignored her outstretched hand and presented them to Father Angus. Insurrectionist. She glowered at him.
His lips turned up in a patently fraudulent all-American-boy smile.
Katherine raised her hand and used water from one of the pools to shoot a forceful, carefully aimed water spout at the side of Stark’s head after he transferred the chains to Father Angus. “Rock, paper, water. I win.”
Stark shook his head like a wet dog, then sulked off, muttering, “I’m gonna drain those fuckin’ pools.”
The trapped fiends began wailing and tearing into each other. Father Angus lifted the chains cautiously. “These aren’t the apostle’s now, are they?”
“No, St. Peter’s Chains are safe in the sanctorum’s reliquary. These are regular old iron chains. Stark should have made sure you had them earlier.” She threw a withering look at her head of security where he was tipping his head back to drain a shot at the bar.
“Very good. Ready then?” Father Angus asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” She nodded to Jade and Konani, armed with holy water and chrism oil, who’d moved onto the floor. “When the demon’s shade leaves its host, don’t let it get out of this room alive. Do you guys know what to do?”
“Yep,” Jade assured her. “Holy water on the colloidal form to stun it, then a drop of chrism oil to vanquish it. No more than absolutely necessary. We’ve been over this a million times.”
“Good. Don’t muck it up.”
Jade smiled brazenly.
Father Angus transferred the bulk of the iron chains to one forearm and pulled a crucifix out of his back pocket. “How you wanna work this?”
“You mind getting a little wet?”
The priest winked at her. “You’re talking to a native Dubliner, lass. Bring on the rain.”
Katherine built up her aqua element, borrowing more water from the terrace pools to spew horizontal geysers at four of the possessions. She knocked them to the opposite side of the Devil’s Trap, away from her and Father Angus’s first mark. The stocky man they planned to exorcise first bellowed and launched toward her position where she stood outside the circle.
“I’ve seen visions of your death, Guardian. Alone. Drowning. The water filling your lungs, dragging you down into the cold, dark water,” he yelled.
Katherine shuddered. Her element faltered, the water restraints suddenly failing to hold off the other possessions. They scrambled up from the floor, one of them grabbing the stocky man by the ankles.
Father Angus tossed the chains and caught their quarry on the left shoulder with the iron weights, taking him down. The crazed human screamed, the whole left side of his body smoking where the iron made contact with his skin. The priest lunged into the circle the same time as Katherine. “Stark, Maddox, get over here!”
With the two men’s help, they pulled their target out of the Devil’s Trap so they wouldn’t be accosted by the other possessions while they worked on him. The first set of chains and a second set produced by Jade were looped around both of his arms, legs, and crisscrossed over his chest and pelvis. He shrieked and bucked beneath the chains.
Katherine dropped to her knees beside Father Angus and used her palm to press a St. Benedict medal again the fiend’s forehead as her voice joined his. “Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde…”
The man’s body smoked, the tips of his hair catching fire so often that Katherine conjured a dense mist in the room to prevent burns for all involved. This process was different from her regular method, requiring so much more physical strength. Her Guardian process was almost purely spiritual. And this way took much longer.
She dared not move her hands, but she glanced up at
Father Angus, his brown eyes clamped shut as his lips moved with the old words, his gray priest’s shirt clinging damply to his toned shoulders. She caught movement beyond, where Jade and Konani stood at the ready to touch the demon’s shade with chrism oil.
Katherine extinguished the artificial mist and squinted at the club’s entrance, where a form hovered in the shadows. She didn’t have time to reroute another wayward tourist looking for a drink. What was wrong with these humans? Couldn’t they tell something was off? Obviously most of them had no self-preservation instincts. Or they didn’t pay attention to them.
Sometimes she wondered how the species made it past their elementary years.
“Go back to your hotel, we don’t open until eight!” she yelled toward the doorway. The possessed man roared, still more beast than man, his head shifting back and forth on the wooden floor, his mouth filling with foam. Almost have you, you evil bastard.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the form slip behind one of the potted ferns.
Great. She did not need a freaked-out human to contend with on top of this crap. “I said we’re closed! We have to practice our skit privately, or it won’t be any good for the paying customers!” She glanced at her security head. “Stark, deal with this.” She tossed her chin the shadow’s direction. Stark nodded. He turned as the shadowy figure stepped out from behind the plant. Katherine’s gut dropped.
Leviathan.
Katherine lurched to her feet, the St. Benedict medal burning in her palm as she took in Leviathan’s new look. Shoulder-length bob, subtle makeup, khaki pinstripe suit, navy designer pumps. She looked beautiful, human, and…harmless.
Yeah, right.
Katherine’s heart slugged at her chest. She sent a telepathic message to Ari letting him know the archdemon was here. “Everyone to the safe room!” None of her team moved. “Now!” she barked, keeping her gaze on Leviathan, praying she wasn’t wrong about the archdemon’s lack of interest in her staff.