Necessary Evil

by Donald Hanley

  “Warlock,” Susie muttered. She was still peeved about letting Dad in on the secret.

  “Enchanter,” I corrected her. Melissa hid a smile behind her hand. She looked a lot better now after a shower and a few hours of sleep.

  “Even though he beat four other demon lords?” Dad grimaced, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying those words out loud.

  “With a lot of help,” Morgan pointed out. “Will they be there to help him the next time?”

  “Yes,” came the chorus from my side of the table, along with Daraxandriel’s “Aye.” Amy hunched down in her chair and blew a raspberry instead.

  “The coven will stand watch as well,” Mrs. Kendricks added. She sat between Prescott and Stacy on the other side of the table, with Singh and Shelby taking up the remaining chairs. Shelby looked like she should have stayed in the hospital, with her haggard features and the sling on her left arm.

  “And what about your team, Agent Morgan?” Dad pressed. He had dark circles under his eyes and I doubted he got any sleep last night. “Will you help protect – the Stone?” He probably intended to say Peter but changed it at the last moment.

  Morgan sighed. “We have a very small team, Chief Collins, and a very large country to cover. That said, I take Metraxion’s warning very seriously. Now that Lilixandriel’s been, ah, dealt with, I’m temporarily assigning Agent Prescott to monitor the situation from here. Once we have a handle on the threat level, we’ll adjust accordingly.”

  Mrs. Kendricks and Prescott glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes and then carefully looked away. Judging from the amusement teasing the corner of Agent Morgan’s lips, she knew exactly what she was doing.

  “So what do we do about what happened on the bridge last night,” Dad asked, “and what Lilith – Lily – she did in that warehouse? The Mayor’s looking for answers, the press is waiting in the parking lot ready to jump on the next person to walk outside, and there’s a whole town of nervous people out there. What do we tell them?”

  “The only witnesses to the events on the bridge are in this room,” Morgan reminded him, “plus the members of Miss Kendricks’ coven.” Mrs. Kendricks stirred and then subsided without saying anything. Morgan clearly knew about her actual marital status. “The damage to the bridge can be explained away by an earthquake. They’re rare in this area but not unknown.”

  “That’s what I said,” Susie groused.

  “As for Lilixandriel, the lack of a body leaves us in a bit of a quandary. I have better things to do than conduct a nationwide manhunt for someone I know is dead, but too many people were hurt to pretend nothing happened and my director dislikes unresolved cases.”

  “Does he know about –?” Dad waved his hand around the room doubtfully.

  “No, and I’d like to keep it that way. Agent Prescott suggested a plan that may work, though. Ryan?”

  Prescott sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “The only way we’re going to be able to close out this case is to account for all of the players. Orixnador, a.k.a. Alex Nader, is in the morgue, so we’ll claim his body and dispose of it before anyone takes too close a look. As for Lily Cantrell, we need to show the public that she’s been captured so they’ll stop worrying about her.”

  “How?” Dad frowned. “She’s dead or in Hell or wherever.”

  “We’ll meet the press outside and announce that we’ve captured Lily and we’re taking her to Dallas before extraditing her to Pennsylvania. We’ll let them take pictures of us loading Lily up and driving off. Once we’re out of sight, we’ll stage a failed escape attempt. Officially, Lily Cantrell will be killed in the scuffle and everyone can get on with their lives.”

  “So you’ll use a double?”

  “An exact double.” Prescott nodded across the table at Daraxandriel.

  “She doesn’t have silver hair,” Dad pointed out. “The witnesses were very clear on that.”

  Morgan made a short but complicated gesture. “Now she does.”

  “Verily?” Daraxandriel gasped. Her crayon red hair was now gleaming silver, glittering under the fluorescent lights. She pulled a lock of her hair down to see but it was too short, so she pulled up the hem of her dress and looked between her legs. “By my Dread Lord, I semble Lilixandriel!” Melissa hastily made her cover up, blushing on her behalf.

  “And then you’ll bring Dara back, right?” I asked carefully. “You’re just going to fake her death?” All of the Hellburn residents looked at the FBI agents, who looked at Agent Morgan. Amy just smirked to herself.

  “Of course,” Morgan said firmly. “We don’t want to upset the balance.”

  “What balance?”

  She looked at me in surprise. “Don’t you see it? You’ve been at the center of it this entire time, Peter.” I shook my head. I had no idea what she was talking about. “I’ll try to explain. Those of us who follow the Goddess and the Hunter seek to maintain balance between all things.”

  “Right,” I said. “Good versus evil and all that. That’s why you fight demons.”

  “It’s not quite that simple. Everything has its place in the world but too much of one thing or too little of another throws the world off kilter. Order brings stability but too much order leads to stagnation. Chaos brings change but too much chaos results in anarchy and destruction. There has to be balance.”

  “Okay, I see that, I guess. But what does that have to do with me?”

  Morgan’s smile shifted her to the younger end of the age bracket. “The Goddess has seen fit to make you the counterbalance to these remarkable young women.” She walked down the length of the table and stopped behind Susie. “I just met all of you a couple of hours ago but it’s easy to see you’re a very upright young man, Peter. You have a strong sense of what is right and proper and just. Susie, well, doesn’t.” Susie shrugged indifferently. “So, moral,” she gestured to me, “and amoral.”

  “I suppose,” I allowed doubtfully.

  Morgan moved down to Melissa. “The powers Amy granted you are very precise. They do what they do and that’s it. The powers Melissa has are whatever she imagines them to be and her control of those powers is, shall we say, suspect.” Melissa hugged herself and shrank into her chair, not looking at anyone. “Order and chaos.”

  She moved on Daraxandriel, who was still fingering her silver hair uneasily. “Our two worlds have been at odds since time immemorial but you two have bridged that gap. Human and demon.”

  Olivia looked up at Morgan anxiously as she approached. “We mourn the loss of friends and family,” Morgan said gently, “but we forget sometimes that the spirits of the departed continue on, in Heaven and in Hell.”

  “Or here,” Olivia murmured sadly, and Morgan touched her shoulder sympathetically.

  “So, living and dead.” She arrived at Amy’s seat and looked down at her in distaste. “Any guesses on this one?”

  “Good and evil,” everyone chorused. Amy stuck her tongue out at us and pouted.

  “Balance is necessary,” Morgan went on, returning to her spot at the end of the table. “Without you, Peter, all of them would spiral out of control. With you, they’re a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Even Amy?” I asked, eyeing the Spawn of Darkness dubiously.

  “Even Amy,” Morgan acknowledged with a nod. “If she hadn’t shown up when she did, that hellhound would have killed you and Lilixandriel would be wearing your Stone. Amy’s here for a reason, even if you don’t know what that reason is.”

  Everyone in the room was looking at me now with expressions ranging from hope and surprise to thoughtfulness and doubt to, in Amy’s case, sullen resentment. I cleared my throat nervously. “But what does all that mean?” I asked, trying not to sound whiny. I didn’t want to be everyone’s counterbalance. “What happens next?”

  “If I knew that,” Morgan said wryly, “I’d be the Goddess.”

  “Maybe she is the Goddess,” Susie suggested to Melissa. “She’s sneaky that way.”

 
“Or maybe she’s something else,” Melissa whispered back. “Did you notice her name? Fay Morgan? Morgan le Fay? That can’t be a coincidence.” They both looked at Morgan speculatively and she smiled back at them.

  “My parents were great fans of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,” she explained in amusement.

  “Because they liked the stories,” I asked carefully, “or because they knew them personally?”

  “Let’s just focus on the problem at hand,” Dad interjected. “Dara, are you okay with Agent Prescott’s plan? Are you willing to help?”

  “Aye,” she said unenthusiastically. “Would I need to speak as Lilixandriel does? Did?” she correctly herself, looking forlorn.

  “You won’t need to say anything,” Prescott assured her. “Just look evil and defiant in front of the cameras.” She nodded but I had my doubts she’d be able to pull that off. She was the spitting image of Lilixandriel now but her facial expressions and posture were completely different.

  “And I shall be restored afterwards?” she asked, touching her hair again. “Peter Simon Collins prefers me as I was.” I studied my shoes carefully as Morgan cocked an eyebrow at me and Melissa’s eyes narrowed.

  “Of course,” Morgan said, “although –” Her voice trailed off thoughtfully.

  I looked up worriedly. “What?”

  “Lilixandriel showed her true appearance in that warehouse and the victims described her in detail, horns and all. Daraxandriel may need to disguise herself after all this is over, so that people don’t confuse her for her sister.” Daraxandriel gasped in horror and grabbed her tail protectively. “At least when you’re outside,” she amended apologetically.

  Daraxandriel looked miserable. “I shall be ugly,” she said sadly as her tail nuzzled her cheek.

  “It’s impossible for you to be ugly,” I told her firmly, “no matter what you look like.” That didn’t make as much sense as I’d hoped but at least it made her smile gratefully.

  “We should get her booked and into a cell, Chief,” Prescott said, getting to his feet, “so that everything’s as legit as possible before we head out. Do you have an officer you can trust, someone who won’t ask too many awkward questions?”

  Dad nodded. “Sergeant Finney handles the jail. He’s a no-nonsense sort of man.” He chewed his lip worriedly. “How much of the truth do we share with him and the others?”

  “None, Chief,” Morgan told him seriously. “We caught the culprit and killed her accomplice. End of story.”

  “They deserve to know what they’re dealing with,” he persisted, “especially if we expect more trouble later.” Trouble meant demons.

  “Forewarned is forearmed, you mean?” Morgan sighed heavily. “Ask yourself this, Chief: will your people stop protecting the public because magic exists?”

  “No, of course not,” Dad frowned.

  “If someone calls 911, will your officers respond any differently when the situation happens to involve a demon?”

  Dad opened his mouth and then closed it. “No,” he said finally.

  “Will they hesitate to put themselves in harm’s way to protect a civilian in danger if they know the assailant’s glowing eyes and tail are real?” Morgan inclined her head to Daraxandriel.

  “No.” Dad looked around the table, clearly unhappy. “So ignorance is bliss, is that it?”

  “Hardly that, but unless you start recruiting witches to join the force, any talk of magic will just be an unnecessary distraction for your people. Let them do their jobs as they’ve always done them and let us worry about the rest.”

  “Except you’ll be gone,” Dad pointed out.

  “You have them,” she countered, gesturing around the room. “They’ve done remarkably well so far.”

  “They’re just kids!” he protested.

  “I wish I could wave my wand and make all this go away, Chief,” she said ruefully, “I really do, but ignoring the truth doesn’t change it. This is your world now and you’re going to have to figure out how to survive in it.” She looked at Dad’s face and sighed. “Let’s talk after we finish our little stage play,” she said, nodding to Daraxandriel. “We might be able to come up with some ideas that’ll help you. I can’t stay long, though,” she added regretfully. “I need to get back to London.”

  “London?” Dad asked, surprised. “The FBI doesn’t operate there, does it?”

  “The witching community is very loose-knit but we help each other out when there’s need. One of my counterparts in England disappeared last month without a trace and we’re quite worried. He was one of the foremost demon hunters in the world. If someone – or something – got him, it’s a cause for concern for all of us.”

  “You think a demon killed him?” Dad frowned.

  “That’s the most likely explanation but we just don’t know. That’s why I need to get back.”

  Dad nodded somberly as I shot a worried look at Mrs. Kendricks. Dr. Bellowes? I mouthed to her. She shook her head ever so slightly and her eyes pleaded with me to stay quiet. I wondered why she didn’t want to admit that we killed William Bellowes. It was in self-defense, after all. I held my tongue and resolved to talk to her when we had a moment alone.

  “All right,” Prescott said, oblivious to our silent exchange, “let’s do this. Dara – or Lily, I should say – are you ready?” Daraxandriel nodded uneasily and got to her feet. “Maybe you should leave the sword here,” he suggested dryly when she reached for it. “Chief, would you do the honors? Let’s make it official.”

  Dad took his handcuffs from his belt and approached Daraxandriel with a bemused expression. “Lily Cantrell,” he told her, “you’re under arrest for attempted murder, kidnapping, and conspiracy to commit murder, among other charges to be determined later. Put your hands behind your back,” he added gently. “I’ll keep the cuffs loose.”

  I gave Daraxandriel an encouraging nod when she looked at me and she complied, letting Dad guide her out of the room by the elbow after they stopped to disentangle her tail from Olivia’s arm. Prescott and Singh went with them but Shelby lingered behind, coming over to nod to me awkwardly.

  “I just wanted to say thanks,” she said, not actually looking at me, “for helping us in the warehouse. For saving my life,” she added reluctantly, as if she didn’t want to admit it. “I thought you were just going to be in the way, but I was wrong.” Now she finally looked me in the eye and smiled, sort of. “Thank you.” She held out her hand and I took it.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “I’m sorry you got hurt.” I pulled up my spell bars with my left hand and tapped Restore, letting the spell flow through our handshake. Shelby jerked back with a gasp, blinking at me in surprise.

  “What did you do?” She looked down at herself and then carefully moved her other arm in the sling. “Did you just heal me? How did you do that?”

  “Sorry. I wanted to come by the hospital but we got a bit sidetracked last night.”

  “You should probably keep that sling on until we leave, Paula.” Morgan looked amused by our encounter. “We don’t want people asking questions about your miraculous recovery.” Shelby nodded, flexing her fingers like she’d never seen a hand before. She gave me an odd look and then hurried out to catch up with her fellow agents.

  “I don’t know if I’ll have a chance to speak again before I leave, Peter, but thank you.” Morgan held out her hand and I shook it. “You’re a remarkable young man. I look forward to having you on my team some day.”

  “Have you been talking to Dad?” I asked suspiciously.

  “No, why? Does he want you to follow in his footsteps?”

  “He’d like that but I don’t know. I never expected any of this to happen,” I said, waving my hand around vaguely.

  “Sometimes our futures choose us instead of the other way around,” she smiled. She was still gripping my hand and the sleeve of her jacket had pulled back, exposing her wrist. A plain silver bracelet hung there, bearing a large oval ruby that gleamed with it
s own light.

  “That’s –” I started to say, but she released my hand and pulled her sleeve down again, looking me right in the eyes. She knew that I knew what that was. I had one of my own, after all.

  “Good luck,” was all she said.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me, you’ll need it?” I asked acerbically.

  “I didn’t think I needed to,” she laughed, leaving me to take it either way. “Goodbye, Peter. Take care, all of you.” She headed for the door but Melissa got up hastily.

  “Agent Morgan!” Morgan turned and cocked a questioning eyebrow at her. “About that chaos thing, um –” She threw an anxious look at me and then knotted her fingers together. “Is there anything you can do so it’s not quite so ... chaotic?”

  “You’re afraid of losing control again.” Morgan said it as a statement of fact, not a question.

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Can you fix me?”

  She shook her head regretfully. “I’m afraid the only person who can alter your powers is the person who gave them to you.”

  We all looked at Amy, who studied her fingertips. “Nope, can’t help you,” she said with a shrug. “Metraxion took all that away from me.” She was probably lying but there was no way to prove it. Melissa looked crestfallen and Morgan rested a hand on her arm sympathetically.

  “Having great power is a blessing and a curse,” she acknowledged solemnly, “but have faith, Melissa. You’re stronger than you think. Listen to the people you trust and let them guide you.” She was looking right at me when she said that.

  “All right,” Melissa said glumly. “Thanks anyway.” She eyed Amy resentfully.

  “I’ll check in on you after I return from London,” Morgan promised. “Hopefully things will stay quiet until them,” she added with a smile. “Goodbye, everyone.” She strode out the door without looking back.