“The little white scars on your hand?”
“Burns from a particularly nasty demon. His blood splashed me, and it was like acid. Couldn’t get it off fast enough.”
“Their blood can do that?” I asked, aghast. I was lucky I hadn’t gotten any on me from the demon I’d shot.
“Not most of them.”
“So, what, like a particular class of demons?”
“More like an age. The older they are, the more dangerous they become. Also, the purer their blood.”
“The purer their blood? How do you mean?”
Matt popped his last piece of bacon in his mouth and stood up. “Give me a minute.” He headed upstairs while I finished clearing the table, rinsing and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Not quite enough for a full load.
As I wiped down the table, Matt returned carrying a brown leather case with a crocodile pattern, about a foot and a half tall, two feet long and at least a foot wide. There were two metal buckles to either side of the handle, which he snapped open. The lid split, swinging out and back on hinges. There were a variety of items strapped into the case, tucked into pockets and set into the bottom.
“Okay, first off, there are different classes of demons, and they have different strengths, partially dependent on how old they are.”
“I remember you saying something about different types of demons that first day, but to be honest, I had trouble taking it all in at the time. Demons are fallen angels, right?” I asked.
“Yes, the cast out and cursed. Those are the oldest, the most pure and powerful. They are limited, and some of their names are known. The next level of demons are the ones produced when those fallen angels mated with the old ones, before Adam and Eve, Lilith and her kin.”
I ran a fingertip over an ornate silver cross strapped into the case. “I’ve heard the name Lilith, but how could there be someone before Adam and Eve? Plus, okay, I’ve heard all these stories, yet I assumed they were mythology. I mean, theory of evolution and everything, how could there be an actual Adam and Eve? Wasn’t that just a myth to explain things?”
Matt retrieved a small book from the case and fanned the pages. The writing was so small I couldn’t make out any words.
“Yes, and no. There was an Adam and Eve, but they weren’t the first beings God created out of nothing. The story which has grown up around them is more of a creation myth for mankind’s benefit and ease of understanding. That chronology is a little suspect and very confusing. We don’t know how many of that primary class of demons were created or all their names. The next level is the demons created when the cursed mated with humans. They’re half human, so they’re not as powerful, but they are still, if you’ll excuse the expression, hell on wheels.” I snorted, and one corner of his mouth lifted. “Then there are the demons created by those part demons reproducing with each other and with humans. Not nearly as dangerous and essentially just like the criminals we have to deal with today. In fact, they’ve swelled the ranks, can be hard to distinguish, and, for the most part, it isn’t necessary. The minor part demons are petty criminals, outcasts just trying to get by.” He shrugged.
He laid the case out on the table, so both halves lay flat. “Okay, you know you can tell if someone is possessed by a demon or if the being is a demon manifesting as a human, by touching it,” he started in a professorial tone.
“Right.” I nodded.
“You have to be able to touch it to do that, which makes you vulnerable because you’re really close to a demon. It also kind of pulls some of your energy and attention out of the here and now.”
I thought back to what had happened when I touched the man years ago, how he’d acted toward me, what I’d felt. I crossed my arms, hugging myself. “Okay, what about the invisible thing that attacked me the other day? It grabbed me, but I didn’t see anything or feel anything off it.”
“It grabbed you, but did you touch it? With your hands, I mean.”
“No, I didn’t have time. It grabbed me and threw me into the wall.”
He shrugged. “There you go. It can be hard to get a hold of a demon when he sees you coming. That’s where these things come in.” He waved a hand over the open case, then started touching the items one at a time and explaining.
A two-ounce glass bottle came first. “Holy water. It can be sprinkled on someone you suspect without hurting a human, but the demon will start to burn as if it were acid.”
I thought of the burns on his hands, but he plucked the bottle out and opened it, then dripped a few drops on his skin.
“Just water.” He closed and replaced the bottle. “If you need more, just stop into any church and refill. In a pinch, you can make more yourself, it just takes time.”
He slipped his fingers into a pouch and withdrew a small plastic case he flipped open. “Rosary. Always useful for calming yourself or making a demon uncomfortable. That’s about all it’s going to do, but put it into concert with other items, and you have a distinct advantage.”
“Crosses,” he said, flipping a sort of fabric page. It had multiple pockets which showed just the top of a variety of crosses, from simple wood to ornate, gem-encrusted gold. He plucked one out—a simple silver cross about eight inches tall by five inches across. “Silver is my favorite and works best. The purer the silver, the better.”
“I thought you said you didn’t go in for crosses much?”
He shrugged. “Mostly because the majority of lesser or younger demons aren’t affected by them anymore. You could say they’ve lost their faith, or fear.”
“Interesting. So…” I ran my hand across one of the crosses, feeling seriously foolish for asking the question, but I needed to. “Are vampires real? Like a form of demon?”
“Yes and no. It’s not a bad question.” He tucked the cross back into its spot. “I don’t know of any vampires in the form you see in Hollywood and literature, where sunlight will burn them, and you need to stake them in the heart to stop them or cut off their head and take it into the sun, but there certainly are demons which hate the sunlight. Plus, demons inhabiting human bodies will die if you stake them in the heart or cut their head off. I imagine most stories like that have some basis in reality. And there are demons who will drink blood, though I don’t believe they need it to stay alive.”
“Okay.” I felt a little less ridiculous for asking. I noticed a mirror peeking out and touched it. “A mirror?”
“Yes,” he said, holding it up so I could see. It fit neatly in his hand and simply reflected my face. “Demons of the first magnitude hate to see themselves, to see how far they have fallen. They often have some kind of mark or marring on their face which shows their corruption due to falling from grace. They can hide it some of the time with a sort of glamor, but a mirror shows it to them. They hate that. Now, it won’t hurt them except to give them a moment’s pause. It may even enrage them, which could be bad since you’re dealing with the most powerful of the demons, so it’s sort of a desperation move. However, if it can buy you a tiny bit of time to get something else ready or flee, it is occasionally worth it.”
“The demon I banished as a child had some kind of pock marks, like acne scars, on his face. Were those a sign he was a demon?”
Matt put the mirror back and folded his arms. “Did you see them before or after you laid hands on him?”
I thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, if you saw them before, then probably not. Lots of people have such scars for different reasons. If they only appeared after, then yes.” He selected a small, black metal flashlight.
“For demon hunting at night?” I guessed.
His lips twitched. “Well, it is handy in a way because demons can see in the dark where we can’t, but there’s more to it than that.” He turned it on and played it around the room.
The light shone a brilliant white and was somehow different from a regular flashlight. I looked at him quizzically.
“How would you bottle sunlight so it can be
used against a demon?” He grinned. “Flashlight with a full spectrum bulb. You can’t pick these puppies up at the local hardware. Some demons just don’t like it, some will turn away from it.”
Next, he picked up a corked vial with a splinter in it and handed it to me.
I laughed. “Seriously? A splinter? Is this for lions or something? Shove it in their foot so they’ll lie there and cry about their wounded paw?”
Matt plucked the little glass vial out of my hand. “This is much more serious than that. Relics of saints are a strong tool against demons, especially older ones. A relic of Jesus Christ will vanquish them in seconds flat. This is supposedly a splinter of the actual cross Christ was crucified on.”
“Supposedly?”
He shrugged. “There’s a big market in fake relics. The danger here is always that it’s a fake. You try to use a fake against a demon, and you’ve wasted precious seconds. It may be just the edge they need to eliminate you or at least to flee.” He looked at me speculatively for a moment. “I’ve never had a way to test them, until now. Let’s see if you get anything by touching a couple of them. You get impressions off people. Let’s see if you can get an impression off a holy relic.”
He placed the vial back into its pouch and slipped a packet out of an elastic holder, then opened it carefully and slid out a piece of fabric. “Let’s start with something a little less precious or volatile and see how it goes.” He held the fabric out.
I took it and cupped it in my hands, and felt nothing, not even a tingle. I closed my eyes and tried to let my mind go in search of any sensation the fabric gave me. All I got was a musty smell and the rough texture of it.
Opening my eyes, I held the fabric back out to him. “Nothing. I must not be able to get impressions of things that aren’t alive.”
Matt shrugged. “It’s possible, but let’s not give up yet. I wasn’t sure about that one. Like I said, there’s a big market in fakes.”
He retrieved the vial with the splinter of the cross and uncorked it. “I’m reasonably confident in this one. Hold out your hand. Be very gentle with it, it may be brittle.”
I cupped my hands, and he tipped the vial, so the item dropped into them. As soon as it made contact with my skin, light exploded across my vision. I no longer stood in my kitchen. I peered around. A crowd shouted. Wind whipped dust into my face. Several people were on their knees with heads bowed. I looked up, craning my neck, to see Him, nailed to the cross, blood dripping from his hands and side, as well as the thorns pounded down onto his head, which hung as if past all human endurance.
Then I was back in the kitchen, on my knees, panting. Matt stood next to me, his hands on my shoulders. “Ally? Ally!”
I gaped up at him.
“What?” he asked. “Did you see something?”
“It’s real, for sure,” I said, as I reached for the vial on the table with shaking hands and gently tipped the little splinter back into it. “I saw Him, on the cross.”
Matt's eyebrows shot up and his mouth opened wide. “Yes! I knew it.”
I groaned and got one leg up, then steadied myself on the table as I stood. After what I’d just experienced, his glee seemed inappropriate. “You knew what might happen, and you didn’t warn me?”
His face took on a wary look. “Um, well, I thought you’d be sensitive enough to see something, to pick up impressions off an item with that much significance, I didn’t think you might actually see something. I figured you’d just pick up impressions. I didn’t think about what you might actually see.” He stopped and took a breath, which was good because he was babbling. He smiled weakly and finished up with, “Sorry.”
I grimaced. “Okay. Let’s be more careful about me touching relics from now on. What’s next?”
Matt pulled out a little leather-bound book, three inches wide by four inches tall. “Prayer book. Latin is good. Aramaic is even better, though a bit harder to pronounce. Plain old American is fine too. The intent is the important thing.”
“Don’t you need a particular ritual to exorcise a demon, or to know their true name or something?”
“Well, that’s the sure and simple way to do it, but the names are hard to come by, and the rituals are good. However, sometimes, you have to improvise. Besides, they were created by humans, and while we are humans, we’re not just humans. You’ve had experience yourself with banishing a demon by simply blessing it and laying on of hands.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. That had been an accident and horrifying enough. Did I really want to get into this? Did I have a choice?
“You okay?” Matt asked.
I met his eyes but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know.
“Three more items, and then we’ll take a break.” He pulled out a bag of what looked like coffee beans. “Coffee.”
I snorted. “For real?”
He grinned. “It’s good for staying awake while you’re trying to take down a demon. Sometimes it takes a lot of energy and hunting one can take time. Which also means the next item is useful.”
He tucked the beans back in and withdrew a chocolate bar. “Chocolate to draw out the very minor demons or just because, you know, chocolate. It can boost your energy when you’re feeling drained from banishing too.”
I cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “Chocolate can draw out demons? For real?”
“Picture starving street urchins.”
I shrugged. “Okay.”
“One last thing.” He put the chocolate bar back and picked up the book he had taken out earlier. He handed it to me. I smoothed a hand over the brown leather. “The grimoire—a list of demons and instructions on how to exorcise them. Of course, it’s just demons from Christianity. I have a separate notebook and items for exorcising demons from religions other than Christianity.”
“Wait, what?” I asked. “You’ve dealt with demons from other religions? How can they exist? From all the religions? From certain ones?”
He shook his head, and his brow furrowed as if he did not want to discuss it. “I’m still working that out. I’ve only met a few from other religions.”
I felt mightily confused. “Doesn’t one religion being true discredit the others?”
“Well…” He sighed and crossed his arms. “Apparently not.”
I had to think for a minute. “We’re talking about what happened over on His side of the equation, in heaven. The demons which were created were the fallen. How can those from other cultures exist too?”
He shrugged. “God is infinite. He contains multitudes. We work with what we have, and when we go off map, we deal with it the best we can.”
I gave a mental shrug and filed my question away. Okay. I noted the time. Nine o’clock. “I’m going to grab a shower. I’d like to be there for visiting hours at ten.”
Matt tucked the book back into its spot and closed then latched the case. “Don’t you think, considering there are demons running around hurting people, sometimes people you love, that studying up on how to get rid of them should take somewhat of a precedence?”
I scowled at him. Seriously? “Well, yeah, but Jen needs me too. I can’t just not be there for her.”
“So, let’s take a break, you get a shower, then you spend the morning studying the grimoire,” he said. “Then, we’ll have lunch, and we’ll do a little more training. Then, we’ll go into town and visit Jen until dinnertime. Home and some more training.”
My eyebrows went up. He was serious about preparing me.
“You can’t fight what you don’t understand, and there’s a lot to understand,” he said mildly.
“Okay,” I agreed, a little put out at having my day arranged that way, though he hadn’t said I couldn’t go see Jen, just that I had to place a priority on preparing to defend against these things. Considering what had happened to Jen, he was probably right. I really knew very little about them, but I knew enough to be afraid of what I didn’t know. Hell, from the way he spoke, he didn’t know enough, he just extrapolated from
what he did know when he came up against a new threat.
Upstairs, I got clean jeans and a faded V-neck purple T-shirt out of my dresser with fresh underwear and went into the bathroom. Dim light from the window filtered in, so I flicked on the overhead and turned the dial for the vent fan. I unbuttoned my cardigan and shrugged it off, then hung it on the back of the door.
I had woken that morning feeling hopeful and even playful thinking of Matt, but he had quickly doused those hopes and thrown some of the scariest thoughts yet at me, along with the tools for fighting demons and the information about the different types of demons. Yet, I still felt like he was withholding information, like when he wouldn’t talk about non-Christian demons. He had told me so much—what could he be holding back? And did he not know, or did he think I wasn’t ready to hear it?
I turned the water on and ran my hand under the stream, waiting for it to heat up before flipping it from tub to shower, then I stepped in and tugged the curtain across. Turning under the hot water, I washed my concerns away. The water coursing over my skin comforted me. I slowly soaped my body, working down my neck, over my arms, and down my chest to my belly. I wasn’t the voluptuous sort, but very tall with a bit extra in all the right places. Matt was a bit shorter, and I couldn’t help thinking his mouth would be just the right height to tilt and… I sighed. There was no profit in letting my mind go there. I finished up quickly and got out of the shower. I toweled off and wrapped the giant towel around me then opened the door to pad swiftly down the hall to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me and turned to flick the light switch on.
A distinctly male chuckle came from behind me.
My head shot up as someone shoved me forward, pressing against me from behind and grasping my forearms I had managed to brace against the wall. The right side of my face pressed against the wallpaper. I could feel a hand grasping my left forearm, holding it, but there was nothing there. Alarm pushed adrenaline through my body. What the fuck? I drew breath to yell.
“Hello, my sweet Alstroemeria,” a deep male voice murmured in my ear.
At the first touch of hot breath on my ear, my panic slid away, and a sense of lethargic contentment bubbled up. He nudged my hair aside and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin at the side of my neck just behind my ear.
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