Necessary Evil

by Donald Hanley

  “So I can only talk about her if you’re a ghost,” I murmured to myself. “Maybe you’re canceling out whatever Amy’s doing to me.” I grabbed my phone and called Mrs. Kendricks back. “I need to tell you about –” My words stuck in my throat again. “Damn it! You still remember what we were just talking about, right?” I asked Olivia.

  “About Amy?” she frowned.

  “Yes!” That was a major triumph but not a terribly useful one since no one else could hear her. “Mrs. Kendricks, do you know anybody else who can talk to ghosts?”

  “Why can’t you tell me what she’s saying?” Mrs. Kendricks asked doubtfully.

  “It’s complicated,” I sighed.

  “Why doesn’t Olivia just manifest and tell me herself, then?”

  “It’s still complicated. Do you know any mediums or something like that?”

  “I’ve never had to deal with ghosts until now. I can ask the girls in the coven if they’ve ever conversed with spirits but I imagine they would have mentioned that before now.”

  “What about that crazy lady in the library?” Olivia suggested.

  “Who? Oh! Mrs. Whats-her-name, the one who was looking for cats.”

  “Mrs. Phipps?” Mrs. Kendricks asked.

  “Yes! She could see and hear Olivia. Do you have her number?”

  “Peter, it’s one in the morning. I’m sure she’s asleep. Is this really important?”

  “Yes! Well –” I reconsidered that. So far, Amy was helping us in her annoying, painful, and self-centered way, but we needed to stop her before things got out of hand. “I guess it can wait a little bit,” I agreed reluctantly, “but we need to talk to her first thing.”

  “I’ll try to get hold of her in the morning. Perhaps we can speak with her while Ryan’s in Dallas picking up those other agents from the airport.”

  “Yeah,” I said absently. What’s Prescott going to think about all this? I wondered. We’ve suddenly gone from a bunch of useless kids to Demon Hunters, Inc. in just a few hours, but the FBI doesn’t want amateurs running around getting in their way. They’ll probably just lock us up in protective custody while they deal with Lilixandriel. Right before Dad arrests Prescott for her murder. I blinked at that thought. “Oh, shit.”

  “Peter!” Olivia protested.

  “Dad thinks Olivia and Agent Prescott are involved in some convoluted conspiracy to fake her death in order to find Lily Cantrell and murder her!”

  “What?” If Olivia weren’t already a ghost, she would have popped right then.

  “What are you talking about, Peter?” Mrs. Kendricks asked. I explained Dad’s reasoning, leaving out my shameful use of Bewilder. “Goddess guide me,” she murmured. “This is bad.”

  “What are we going to do?” I asked.

  “I have absolutely no idea,” she confessed. “I’ll call Ryan and tell him what happened. Perhaps he can come up with something.”

  “He’s not going to do anything to Dad, is he?” I asked worriedly. I wasn’t going to let that happen, no matter what.

  “No, certainly not,” she said firmly. “Our current disagreement aside, Ryan’s one of the good guys, Peter. We’ll figure out some way to explain Olivia’s situation that doesn’t cause more problems than it solves. I don’t suppose your father believes in magic?” she asked hopefully. “After all, Susie’s a very capable witch.”

  I had to snort at that. “Are you kidding? He and Mom have been trying to convince Susie to give up all this nonsense ever since she started waving her wand around.”

  “But they’re both church-goers? They believe in God?”

  “Well, sure.”

  “Then they believe in magic of a sort. What we do isn’t all that different.”

  “I doubt they’ll see it that way.” The pastor of our church was a real fire-and-brimstone sort of preacher. He’d probably resurrect the Salem witch trials if he ever caught one of us casting a spell.

  “It’s a start, anyway. All right, try to get some rest, Peter. I’ll call you in the morning once we sort things out.” I appreciated her attempt to sound positive and reassuring but I suspected Mrs. Kendricks felt as overwhelmed as I did. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” I said glumly. I hung up and sat back in my chair, closing my eyes as I massaged my forehead. Between Lilixandriel’s attacks, Amy’s interference, and Dad’s suspicions, I had the beginnings of a major headache blooming under my fingertips.

  I couldn’t do anything about Lilixandriel until she found another demon lord to send after us and Agent Prescott was going to have to somehow convince Dad of his innocence, but there had to be something I could do about Amy. Relying on a doddering old woman to relay messages through Olivia wasn’t a viable long-term solution, assuming we could talk her into it in the first place.

  Is Amy’s control over me a curse or a spell or something else? Can I cancel it out somehow? I reached out with my left hand and flipped through my active spells, but they were pretty much geared towards killing demons and personal survival. The only buffs Melissa left me were Restore and Iron Hide, neither of which were any good against control spells and the like.

  “Wait a minute,” I murmured, sitting up straighter.

  “What?” Olivia asked uneasily.

  “Where’s Clarity?”

  “Who?”

  “My Clarity spell. I always have Clarity. It’s the best debuff remover in the game.” I shoved myself back from the table, almost toppling my glass again. “Come on!”

  I ran down the hall and bounded up the stairs two at a time, barging into Melissa’s bedroom. Fortunately, it was still unoccupied and I threw myself into her chair, jiggling her mouse impatiently to wake up her computer. Olivia caught up with me just as I finished logging in to Legends of Lorecraft.

  “What’s going on, Peter?” she demanded. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to get Amy out of my head.” I pulled up Coronox and accessed his spell book, selecting Clarity. Then I flipped through my memorized spells, trying to decide which one to replace. I finally chose Charm, made the exchange, and hit Save. “Okay,” I said, letting my breath out nervously, “here goes nothing.” I targeted myself and tapped Clarity.

  The room wobbled around me for a moment and then settled down, leaving me blinking. My head felt a bit hollow, as if something was missing, and I gasped in sudden alarm. Did I just cancel out my own magic? I hastily swung my right hand around and the objects in Melissa’s rooms glowed white as the reticle passed over them. I sat back with a sigh of relief.

  “Is something wrong?” Olivia asked doubtfully. “Did it work?”

  “Let’s find out. You still remember about Amy, right?”

  “Yes,” she said carefully.

  “So turn solid again and see if you still do.” She heaved a put-upon sigh and headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

  “My clothes are downstairs.”

  “Worry about that later. Just change here.”

  “Peter!” She clutched her nightgown to her chest.

  “I won’t look,” I promised, turning my back to her.

  “You’ll peek!” she insisted.

  “I won’t. It’ll just be for a minute, anyway,” I assured her. “You can change right back afterwards.”

  “No!”

  “This is important,” I told her, exasperated. I looked around for a solution and pointed at Melissa’s bed. “Get under the covers, then. I won’t be able to see a thing.”

  “But –”

  “Just do it. Please?” Olivia hesitated and then sidled over to the bed, keeping an eye on me the entire time. It took her a couple of tries to lift the covers up high enough to slide underneath but she finally got herself positioned in the middle with the blankets pulled all the way up to her chin, watching me nervously. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

  She took a shuddery breath and bit her lip. A moment later, she gave me a jerky nod. I peered at her but she looked exactly the same to me. No, I realized
, her colors are a bit brighter now. “You’re solid?” I asked, to be sure, and she nodded again. “And you still remember Amy?”

  “Yes,” she whispered nervously, but she didn’t really need to answer. The fact that I could ask the question was proof enough.

  “All right, it worked!” I pumped my fist in victory. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” I pulled out my phone and tapped Mrs. Kendricks’ number. “Let’s see what we can learn about Amy, Spawn of Darkness.”

  Mrs. Kendricks was surprised to hear my voice again so soon and astonished to hear about Amy. “I’ve never heard of such a person, demon or otherwise,” she confessed. “She was trapped inside your Philosopher’s Stone all this time?”

  “That’s what she told me,” I acknowledged. “Do you think she’s really the Dread Lord’s daughter?”

  “I’m not sure I would trust anything she says. She obviously doesn’t want the rest of us to know about her, so it’s clear she has some ulterior motive.”

  “She needs us to fight Lilith for her,” I noted. “Maybe she’s not as powerful as she wants me to believe.”

  “Maybe.” Mrs. Kendricks didn’t sound convinced. “She’s powerful enough to stop time and to give you and Melissa your powers back. None of us can do that.”

  “Maybe Dara knows about her. I’ll ask her when she wakes up.” Mrs. Kendricks remained suspiciously silent. “Hello?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Peter. If Amy suspects the rest of us know about her, she may take action to protect herself and we have no idea what she’s really capable of.”

  “But how are we going to get rid of her if we can’t talk about her?” I protested.

  “I’ll make inquiries,” she promised, “but let’s keep this between you and me until we get some answers. Amy’s still helping you for the moment so we don’t need to make any rash decisions just yet. All right?”

  “All right,” I sighed reluctantly.

  “In the meantime, stay alert. Lilith’s still out there somewhere.”

  “I know.”

  “Good night, Peter, and good luck.”

  “Thanks, I’ll need it. Good night.” I hung up and leaned back in the chair, rubbing my eyes. “Crap.” I’d hoped for something more definitive than I’ll make inquiries, but at least someone else knew about Amy now. Two someones, I realized. I turned around and saw Olivia still huddled on Melissa’s bed with the blankets pulled up to her nose, staring at me with wide eyes. “Did you hear all that?” She nodded. “So you know to keep Amy to yourself, right?” Another nod. “Are you okay?”

  Olivia carefully lowered the blankets to uncover her mouth. “Can I go back to being a ghost again?” she asked meekly.

  “What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.” A moment later, the covers slumped onto the mattress, leaving Olivia sitting on top in her nightgown, looking relieved. “Thanks for your help.”

  She slid off the bed and stood, carefully settling the skirt of her nightgown around her legs. “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to try to get some sleep. I guess I can use this one,” I mused, eyeing Melissa’s bed.

  “What?” Olivia gasped in alarm. “This is a girl’s bed!”

  “So? What’s the difference?”

  “A girl sleeps in here! What’s wrong with your bed?”

  “It’s filled with girls,” I explained wryly.

  “What?” It was a good thing Olivia was a ghost again, because that would have woken everyone up. “What are they doing there?”

  “Keeping me from sleeping in there. Don’t worry about it, nothing’s going to happen,” I assured her. “Just go to bed and we’ll sort everything out in the morning. Okay?”

  “But –”

  “Go.” I shooed Olivia out of the room and into the hallway. “Good night.” I said, and I closed the door in her face.

  “It’s not right!” she called, her voice muffled by the door.

  “Good night!” I turned off the light and made my way back to the bed by the dim glow of moonlight against the curtains. I stripped down to my shorts and slid under the sheets, laying my head back against a pillow that smelled faintly of Melissa’s perfume.

  Second base is next, Little Peter reminded me slyly. You know what that means.

  It doesn’t mean anything, I told him firmly. I’m alone.

  If Melissa wakes up and discovers you’re not in your bed, she’s going to come looking for you. If she finds you here –

  Nothing will happen. I’m the alpha male, remember?

  The only alpha anything in this house is Melissa, Little Peter sneered. She’s going to go around those bases as fast as she can and there’s nothing you can do to stop her.

  Shut up, I told him. That wasn’t really a compelling counter-argument but I was too tired to come up with a better one. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about baseball.

  12

  Women have an unfair advantage over men, one that almost invariably drives every red-blooded male to distraction. I’m referring, of course, to their breasts. A mere glimpse of cleavage or side-boob can throw men completely off-kilter, while even a hint of a nipple pretty much shorts out the circuitry inside their skulls.

  I know that breasts exist to feed and nurture babies. I’m aware that breasts aren’t inherently sexual and that my obsessive interest in them is largely a product of the society I was raised in. I understand that different cultures have wildly varying opinions on the subject, ranging from Meh, they’re just breasts to Oh my God, cover those up, you’re corrupting the young and innocent! None of that really matters to me, though. I just like looking at them, although I try not to be too obvious about it.

  Movements like #FreeTheNipple have made some inroads towards removing the stigma of naked breasts in public and a handful of cities in North America have actually made it legal for women to walk around topless. Sadly, Hellburn is not one of those enlightened communities, but it’s probably just as well. My heart would seize up on the first day and the undertaker would have trouble getting my eyes to close as he laid me out for burial.

  “Peter!” I sat bolt upright, scattering pillows left and right as I tried to remember where I was. The blue cover tangled around my legs and the shipping boxes scattered around the floor hinted that I was still in Melissa’s bed but I obviously wasn’t alone in the room anymore. “Help me find my other shoe!”

  “Huh?”

  Something black hit me painfully in my chest and dropped into my lap. I picked it up and discovered a low-heeled leather shoe. Melissa herself was on her hands and knees under her vanity, sweeping her hands through the shadows cast by the early morning light oozing through the curtains.

  “Find the other one!” she ordered in exasperation. “I have to get my makeup on and grab something to eat before I go.” She extracted herself and perched on her chair, snatching up a gold compact and a brush as she leaned into the mirror. She wore a black pleated skirt with a white bra and not much else that I could see. “Hurry!” she insisted, glaring at my reflection as she swept the brush across her cheeks.

  “What’s going on?” I wiggled over to the edge of the bed and retrieved my pants from the floor, trying to get my brain back into gear.

  “Mr. Franklin called. The power’s back on in the office so he wants me down there when he opens.” She used the tip of her little finger to smudge dusky eyeshadow across her lids and then carefully applied mascara to her lashes. I pulled on my pants, pretending not to notice her pretending not to watch me.

  “Oh.” I looked around, searching for the shoe’s twin. There were three other pairs distributed around the floor but none of them matched the one she’d lobbed at me. “So you’re going to be at work all day?”

  “I’ll bring my wand, just in case,” she assured me. She assessed her glossy black nails critically but their warding benefits clearly outweighed the dress code violation and she left them alone. She rattled through a drawerful of lipsticks, inspe
cting several before finally choosing a dark cherry hue. She pressed her lips together, kissed a tissue to remove the excess, and then turned to face me. “How do I look?”

  I cleared my throat awkwardly. “Unfinished.” She just smirked, waggled her shoulders at me, and then navigated her way around the boxes to her closet.

  “Shoe,” she reminded me as she plucked a short-sleeved blouse from its hanger.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I muttered.

  “Do you think Lilith is going to send any more demons after us today?” she asked, shrugging on the blouse. “I can tell Mr. Franklin I’m not feeling well or something.”

  “No, she probably doesn’t know where we are.” That’s what Amy thought, anyway, and I didn’t have a reason to doubt her assessment. “We should be safe for the moment.”

  “If you say so. Better?” This blouse had a scooped collar which just hinted at her feminine charms. With her makeup and her hair pulled back, she looked five years older.

  “You look good,” I told her sincerely. “I don’t know about better.”

  “You’re so sweet,” she smiled. “Where’s my shoe?”

  “Working on it.” I knelt beside the bed and peered underneath. There were five mismatched shoes hiding there and I snagged the only black one. “Here.” I held them up and she grabbed them from my hand and dropped them on the floor beside me, leaning on my shoulder for balance as she wiggled her toes into them.

  “Thanks!” she said, blowing me a kiss to avoid smudging her lipstick. “Call me if anything interesting happens.” She was out the door before I could point out the flaw in her plan.

  I went across the hall into Mr. Andrews’ bedroom and found Daraxandriel still sprawled across the bed fast asleep. Susie was gone, though, and I wondered where she was. I dug a clean shirt out of my backpack, pulled on my socks and shoes, and headed downstairs to see if Melissa noticed her mistake yet. She rushed past me before I even reached the kitchen.

  “Later!” she mumbled around her cream cheese bagel as she slung her purse over her shoulder and hurried towards the garage. She slammed the door behind her and I started counting. One, two, three – The door flew open again. “Peter! Where’s my car?”