Demons & Devils: Demon Hunters

by M A Roth

  “I was looking for you,” Blake announced, his face serious, his brown eyes searching mine.

  “Who sent you, Father Peter or Zee?” I answered, annoyed. What could I possibly do on an airplane?

  “No, I wanted to talk to you. And why do you call him Zee?”

  That stunned me a little. “I just do and, what? You want to talk here, in the walkway, while we’re blocking everyone?” He gave me a hard look. I rolled my eyes and not waiting for an answer, returned to my seat where Simon sat, lifting down the small plastic table and pushing it back up. “Simon, can you sit with Zee? I just want to talk to Blake for a second,” I asked.

  Simon gave Blake a look, a protective one of me. I could feel Blake looming behind me.

  “Sure,” Simon said.

  I sat down and Blake took Simon’s now vacant seat.

  Blake sat quietly for far too long. I cleared my throat to pull him out of his thoughts and he looked at me then. His brown eyes looking lost for a moment. My stomach tightened.

  “I used to live beside a lake, my dad would always take me fishing.” A small smile came to his face. “We never caught much, but I loved spending the time with him.” His smile faltered, and we sat in silence for a few moments.

  It made me think of my own dad. He never took me fishing. He never really did anything with me or Sam when I think about it. All my memories of my childhood were based in my room where Sam and I played together. But it didn’t matter now, Sam and Dad were dead. I looked at Blake, still staring at the seat in front of us.

  “Did your dad die?” I asked gently.

  Blake’s face was serious. “No, he’s alive. When I was seven, my mother went missing one day. She suffered with depression nearly my whole life and it wasn’t the first time we couldn’t find her. Normally, it would only take an hour or two and she would be strolling through town or sitting out back behind the shed. She always went there. When we would find her, she would be staring at a tree, lost in whatever thoughts that went through her head. But on this particular day, she wasn’t in any of her usual places and it soon started to get dark. The next day, she was still missing.” He let out a heavy breath and I could see he was struggling with telling me this. I kind of knew how this ended and why he was telling me. It would be something we had in common, some form of common ground to stand on.

  “You don’t have to tell me, Blake,” I said, but he shook his head as if it would clear away the assault of memories I knew he was experiencing.

  “No, I have to. The next day, my dad took me to the lake to take my mind off mum, but he couldn’t shield my eyes once we reached it. There she was, floating in the water, still in her pajamas. I had never seen anyone look so grey or bloated. Two days, she had been there after she killed herself. Two days of rotting away in the water. The weeds at the bank had wrapped around her body keeping her afloat,"

  I squeezed Blake’s hand. “I’m sorry. I really am.” And I meant it. I understood - they were images that would haunt him every night for the rest of his life.

  “I wanted to share this with you to let you know. I understand how it feels. You and I are alike in more ways than you know.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Blake.” I wasn’t sure what to say.

  Blake sat there saying nothing as if he was waiting for something.

  “How did your mom do it?” he asked, and I cringed inwardly. I couldn’t exactly not tell him, but I didn’t want to. So I went with the short version.

  “I found her. She had slit her wrists,” I said.

  “What age were you?”

  “Around six. Like your mom, mine also suffered with depression.” I tangled my fingers together. I hated talking to people about this, especially mostly strangers.

  “Did you find her?” Jesus, he wasn’t afraid to ask.

  “Yes.” I gave a short answer, letting him know our bonding was over.

  “Did you notice anything odd when you saw her, like did you notice anyone else?”

  My spine went rigid. No. He couldn’t know. I never told anyone. Only Zee knew. Zee wouldn’t share that information with anyone. “Did you?” I fired back, not hiding my accusation behind it.

  “Yes, a figure, in a black cloak. I couldn’t see its face.”

  My stomach and heart clenched. I knew my face said more than words and with the nod of Blake’s head that he understood. I looked away. He moved in closer, whispering now so no one could overhear us.

  “I don’t believe it was depression and the thing that was there when my mother died terrified me, but I feel it’s also tied to me in ways,” he said.

  I turned to face him, to ask him to explain and my nose brushed off his, I pulled away abruptly.

  “What do you mean tied to you?” I kept my voice down, but it came out as a squeak. It was that strained.

  “My mother was fine until I was born, and when her depression kicked in, she got worse. Everyone would say she was fine before I was born. So I feel like I was the reason she died and that thing that was there knew it.”

  “Blake, it’s not your fault. People get the baby blues all the time. You can’t blame yourself for her depression,” I said, not fully believing my own words.

  “Then explain what we saw, Abigail.”

  Oh God, I needed a drink.

  “I can’t, because I don’t know what it was.” I turned front ways, hoping to end this uncomfortable conversation.

  “Do you believe in guardian angels?”

  My body froze once again. I didn’t turn to Blake, but threw him a sidewards glance.

  “No, I don’t.”

  Liar, liar, liar. I could hear the chant in my head. The evidence was sitting a few seats down, probably wondering what we were talking about.

  I could feel Blake’s full stare bare down on me like a ton of bricks.

  “Please, fasten your seatbelts as we start our descent. Thanks for flying with Orange Airways!” the air hostess said happily over the intercom.

  I let out a sigh of relief, but Blake gave me a hard stare. “You better go back to your seat,” I said, and he stood and left without a second glance. Simon returned, giving me a quizzical look. I shook my head. “Really, you don’t want to know,” I said and fastened my seatbelt.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Abigail

  We landed at Leonardo Da Vinci Airport (at Fiumicino). I was grateful to get off the plane for some fresh air. The sky overhead was cloudy, but I kept my sunglasses on the whole ride. We were only thirty minutes away from The Reote, but we were staying in the Portico d'Ottavia. At least, it gave us twenty-four hours before we met Steven.

  Once we checked in, Father Peter gave us the keys to our room. I was staying with Cathy. The silence in the elevator was almost suffocating. Everyone else was caught up in their own thoughts. The music hummed in the background and I fidgeted with my hands. I needed to get out of this confined space. The ding of the elevator was like angels singing in heaven. I let out a heavy sigh and followed Cathy to our room, before entering, I looked back and locked eyes with Zee. We hadn’t spoken about Jason or all the things he had told me before the crash. I needed answers, but wasn’t sure if I could handle them. I turned and entered the room, kicking the door closed behind me. We weren’t in two seconds before Cathy started.

  “Two rules while we’re sharing.” I stopped unpacking and turned to Cathy as she stood staring at me with two fingers raised. “Rule number one, tidy up after yourself. I’m not your maid.” I wanted to roll my eyes; she never lifted anything at the base. Not even a mug. “Rule number two, if you’re going to drink, don’t get drunk, because I am not picking you up!” She gave me a fake smile. “Got it?” she asked while I stared daggers at her.

  “You stay on your side and I’ll stay at mine.” I returned gave the fake smile before continuing with my unpacking.

  The door opened and Simon walked in, not even knocking.

  “What is wrong with you, Simon? Have you no manners? You could have knocked
. What if I were naked, or for that matter, Abigail? We don’t want to scar your fragile mind.” She gave me a look.

  “Never mind her, Simon. She’s on overdrive.”

  It took him a moment to regain his composure and the redness soon disappeared from his face.

  “Father Peter said we are all going out for food. Be in the lobby in thirty minutes, and sorry… I’ll knock the next time,” he said.

  “You should, once Abigail is in this room, you never know what you might see.”

  I wanted to tell her to give it a rest, but instead, I got ready.

  I slammed the bathroom door with frustration at Cathy, Zee, and the damn Reote. I wasn’t sure which person I was angrier with, but my body sizzled for release. The hot water did nothing for me, so I washed quickly and started to get dried before entering the room. Cathy was getting changed, her clothes laid out neatly on the bed. She could go out in a bin bag and still look good. She was really beautiful until she opened her mouth.

  I was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans when Cathy interrupted me.

  “Can I say something?” she asked.

  “No.” I buttoned up my jeans.

  “I can’t bear to see you in the same old jeans. For our sakes, Abigail, wear something different. Really, you are starting to look like an eyesore!” I swung around to Cathy as she stood in a lacy red bra and a matching thong.

  I shook my head while pointing at her. “What are you wearing? Do you think we’re on holiday?” I asked, shaking my head.

  She tutted while pulling on a red, tightly, fitted dress that could cut off her blood circulation.

  “I am on holiday. It’s your sorry ass they want, not my gorgeous one.” I rolled my eyes and pulled on a black tank top. “For the love of God, please, wear a dress.”

  She turned her back and rummaged through her suitcase that would keep any woman clothed for an eternity. She threw me a pink dress, covered in bright yellow flowers.

  “Not for love or money would I put that rag on my back,” I said. She couldn’t be for real.

  “Rag? That is a designer dress. It cost me three hundred pounds. Only someone like you would call it a rag!”

  “Someone like me?” I questioned.

  “Yes, someone with no taste.” She turned her back to me again and pulled out a simple black dress that had short sleeves. It was tight on the top, but swung out at the bottom, it was knee length. “Try this.” She threw it at me once again and turned to apply a bright red lipstick. I looked at the dress and then down at my jeans. I could hear Cathy smack her lips together and place the lid back on her lipstick. She stuck it in her handbag and turned her eyes on me. “Look, I am only ever going to say this once. You have a good figure, though not as good as mine, and I think it would do you good to show off your legs. You never know.” That was as close to a compliment I would ever get. I stripped and pulled on the dress. “That wasn’t so hard,” Cathy said as she moved towards me with a pair of black heels. “And you're still in all black.” She flicked her hair, dropping the heels to my bare feet. “Meet you in the lobby.” She sauntered out the door as I stared at the shoes.

  “For crying out loud, Abigail, they are only shoes!” I told myself out loud and slipped them on.

  I pulled my hair out of the bobbin and let it hang free down my back. A bit of lip gloss, and that was as far as I was going. As I left the room, I fidgeted with the dress, running my hands down the front, ironing out non-existent creases. I stood in the elevator alone. “For the love of god, Abigail, it’s only a dress!” I scolded myself again.

  The ding didn’t sound like heaven this time. It was the sound of doom. I was bound to fall over in the high heels and make a fool of myself. I let out a heavy breath and moved to everyone as they stood waiting for me in the lobby. I was the last to join.

  The moment I arrived, he saw me, causing all eyes to fall my way.

  I squirmed uncomfortably. “Wow, you look beautiful!” Simon said.

  “Simon’s right, you do look beautiful,” Father Peter said, giving me a warm smile.

  I blushed, not liking all the attention.

  “I’m starving,” Cathy said, averting all eyes from me, and I was grateful.

  Zee gave her a look of stone.

  “What?” she asked before he turned his gaze to me.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, taking my arm.

  “Yeah.”

  “You look beautiful to me every day,” Zee said without looking at me, causing my heart to race.

  “You look good, too,” I said and meant it. He wore a pair of black slacks with a snow-white shirt. His eyes shone with such a clear blue colour that it was hard to look anywhere else.

  ***

  We got out of the taxi and arrived at a small European restaurant. It was fairly full, but the waiter found a table for the six of us at the back. Our chairs were pulled out and napkins were laid out on our laps. It was a great service, one that I wasn’t used to. I loved fast food or just vodka. I wasn’t one for dining out.

  The menu was in English, thank God. I had feared it would be in Italian and I would be a sitting duck. I ordered steak and chips.

  “What would you like to drink?” the waiter asked everyone, starting with Cathy.

  She ordered wine and, Zee, Blake, and Father Peter stuck to soft drinks. Simon opted for wine, too. I ordered vodka and tried to ignore all sorts of looks from my companions.

  The waiter left with our orders.

  “I thought you were stopping,” Zee whispered in my ear, but I knew everyone had heard; they were all too quiet.

  “I want a drink. I’m a big girl. But thank you for your concern, Daddy!” I said, causing Zee to flinch. He looked at me with hurt in his eyes, but I averted my gaze, meeting Blake’s eyes instead. He smirked. Zee must have seen the smile as he went rigid at the table.

  “Is something amusing?” Zee bit out the words.

  “Actually, a lot of this is amusing, Daniel, don’t you think?” The look of hate on Blake’s face confirmed my suspicions - something was going on between the two of them.

  “What’s amusing?” I asked.

  Blake moved his mouth to speak, but Zee cut him off. “Nothing,” he said, giving Blake a warning look.

  The waiter arrived with the drinks and we all sat still as he laid them on the table. The tension was rising. I wanted to know what was going on. The waiter seemed to notice, and the drinks were laid down with incredible speed before he left.

  “What is going on between you two? And don’t tell me nothing!” I said, turning my body to Zee.

  He looked at me intently and a resigned look came over his face.

  “We’ll speak later.”

  “No,” I protested. I wanted to know now.

  “Please,” he said.

  I turned back in my seat and took a deep drink of vodka.

  Father Peter hadn’t interrupted, but was looking from Blake to Zee. I don’t know what he was thinking. Poor Simon just looked uncomfortable and Cathy looked amused by the whole thing. She would. Blake continued to stare at Zee and Zee stared back. This was a great meal.

  “How long are we staying here?” Cathy asked Father Peter, much to my relief.

  She had done this a few times, interrupting my thoughts or cutting in just at the right time. I wondered if it was intentional.

  “I’m not sure. It’s as long as Steven wants us present, but I hope it won’t be too long.”

  “He only wants Abigail, not the rest of us,” Cathy said, taking a sip of her wine.

  “Try to make it quick for us all, Abigail, so we can go home,” she said, raising her glass to me before she took another drink.

  “I’ll do my best for you, Cathy,” I said bitterly before taking a sip of my own drink.

  “Could we please all be civilized for one night?” Father Peter said, sounding exasperated. “I expected more from you, Abigail.” He said, and he sounded disappointed.

  “Well, you shouldn’t!” I said as tears
stung my eyes. I stood and threw my napkin on the table. I couldn’t do this. My emotions were too fraught and my head was all over the place. “I’m tired. See you all tomorrow.”

  I left without a second glance. I couldn’t pretend, not tonight.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Abigail

  I walked out of the restaurant with my head held high and tears blurring my vision. “I will not cry like a child,” I chanted to myself.

  “Are you alright?”

  I was surprised to find Simon standing behind me. I had really expected Zee to follow me.

  “Yeah, go back in, Simon. Don’t worry about me. I’m just moody.” I smiled. But he didn’t go back. Instead, he waved down a taxi and held the door open for me.

  “I don’t want to be there either,” he said.

  I gave him a smile of genuine gratitude, and we climbed in, returning to our hotel.

  We went to my hotel room and Simon lay on my bed, turning on the TV.

  “I’m going for a shower,” I told him. My second shower, I thought.

  I needed to wash away my problems, get out of this outfit and into something that felt more like me. I felt better when I was dried and in shorts and a t-shirt. I felt more like myself now.

  Simon switched the channel as I walked back into the bedroom.

  “Hungry?” he asked as he opened the minibar, pulling out two packets of peanuts. “You like peanuts?” he said with a cheeky smile.

  I couldn’t help, but laugh as he poured them into a small bowl and retrieved two cans of coke from the fridge.

  “Anything stronger?” I asked.

  “Have I got anything stronger?” He pretended to be insulted as he pulled out a small vodka and Jack Daniels from the fridge.

  He handed me my drink as I sat on Cathy’s bed. I nearly choked, not expecting it to be so strong.

  “You want more coke?” Simon asked.

  “No, let it burn,” I said as I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the headboard.

  “So, trouble in paradise?”