by Lindsay Mead
"You're a badass, Father." Vi chuckled, her throat beginning to clear. Aaron crouched beside her and she squeezed his hand. "Your first conclusion should've been demon."
"Yeah, that's probably true." He gave her a tentative smile, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. "I do know you."
"My concierge doctor should be here soon." Ian dropped down to her other side.
Both Viola and Aaron looked at him in confusion until she asked, "A what?"
"A concierge doctor." At their continued stares, Ian explained further, "She's a doctor who does house calls for the wealthy."
"Well, that's handy," she murmured as blood rolled down her side.
"Sir, might I suggest we move her to the kitchen?" Ailbeart asked from the doorway. "For Dr. Wilson's sake."
"That's a good idea," Ian agreed, he and Aaron helping Viola to her feet.
Dr. Wilson arrived in record time. If she was surprised to discover a tattooed woman and a priest in Mr. Grave's kitchen at three in the morning, she didn't give any indication of it. She worked quickly and didn't ask questions. Fortunately, the wounds weren't as bad as they'd appeared, only requiring a handful of stitches. When the physician was finished, she gave some meds to Ailbeart and left without a fuss.
Viola nodded with approval. "Wow, concierge doctors really are handy."
"Vi, what happened?" Aaron was finally able to ask.
"It was those voices." She accepted the medication and the glass of water that Ailbeart handed to her. "They attacked me again."
Aaron gaped. "They reached you outside of the vault room?"
"Yeah, they were speaking Spanish and I understood one this time. He said, 'Leave him. Us. Us.'"
Ian crossed his arms. "What does that mean?"
"Sounds to me like they want your attention." Aaron watched her with pursed lips. "What are you going to do?"
She sighed. "Sleep on it."
Swallowing the meds, Viola downed the full glass of water. Hangovers were a bitch. Hydration was key. She then eased up from the kitchen chair, feeling the stitches tug at her numbed skin.
"Why don't you sleep in my bed?" Ian offered. They looked at him with raised eyebrows, and he clarified in a hurry, "No! I mean, you sleep in my bed since it's closer and I'll take the guest room."
Smirking, Aaron gave Viola a quick peck on the temple. "Come get me if you need me."
"I will," she said with a sleepy smile. "Goodnight."
"Ailbeart, will you move Viola's things to my room?" Ian placed his hand under Vi's arm, giving her something to lean on. As the valet followed Aaron out of the kitchen, Ian and Viola made their way slowly back to the master bedroom. "I wonder if I should stay with you for the night?"
"As much as I'd love to, I don't think we can pick up where we left off," she whispered with a smile.
"No, I know. It's just that…" He hedged, peering nervously behind them. "I don't want you to be alone. What if it comes after you again?"
"Wow, that's a really good point." The playfulness dropped from her voice. What if it attacked and didn't let go next time? Holding Ian a little tighter, Viola hated how vulnerable she suddenly felt. "You're not worried about yourself?"
He peered down at her. "I really don't think it's interested in me."
"Yeah, I guess not. Thank you…for staying with me." It was so strange for Vi to be on this side of things. She was normally the one providing assurance and protection. Ian responded by caressing her arm, and it was such a nice feeling that she considered lying down right where she was. "You'd better get me into bed because the pain meds are really hitting me hard now."
Of course, the alcohol swimming in her system probably didn't help—or it did, depending on a girl's perspective. Ian got her safely into his bed, making sure she laid on her stomach. Viola was asleep before he climbed in next to her. The last thought she remembered having was of how good his pillow smelled.
The throbbing started several hours later; an ebb and flow of pressure in her mind. Viola tried to ignore it, wanting so badly to keep sleeping. When the whispering returned, she gave up. There was no rest for the wicked in this damned house.
Morning sunlight streamed through the bedroom's mauve curtains. Despite the nagging in her head, the room felt safer than before. It was the kind of instinctual security that only came from the sunrise. Congratulations, you survived 'til morning without being eaten by a mountain lion—or a demon, in Vi's case.
Still lying on her stomach, she glanced over to find Ian sound asleep next to her. He was totally at peace. Lucky fucker.
She carefully pushed a black lock away from his face, resisting the urge to run a fingertip along his defined brow. In a strange way, he really was lucky. If Ian hadn't found her, he probably wouldn't have survived another year in this house. Unfettered evil was the spawn of so many heart wrenching-stories—stories that were turned into horror movies for people's entertainment.
Viola never understood the appeal.
Trying not to shake the bed, she tossed off her blankets and rolled to her feet. Her back burned and ached, but it was nothing compared to what the voices were doing to her brain. On the bedside table was another glass of water and two more pain pills. Feeling dehydration tingles in her fingers, Viola didn't hesitate to swallow the pills and guzzle the water. Two heavy pulses pressed against her mind, the whispering growing insistent.
"All right. I'm coming," she grumbled.
Surprisingly, it actually felt like the darkness had receded some. Vi headed around the bed. Her clothes were laid out on a chair, but she opted to stay in the dress. She could shower and change later. It wasn't worth the risk of waking Ian as she fumbled with clothes.
Vi paused before the mirror to make sure she wasn't completely haggard. While she'd been with the doctor last night, someone had cleaned away the blood and loose shards. Still, it was eerie seeing herself through cracked glass. Noticing something new in the reflection, Viola spun around.
Hellfire soot was seeping from the floor above. It permeated the wall as if it were the roots of an ancient tree, spreading downward toward the bed. Veering away from Ian, like a demonic hand, it'd been reaching for Viola in her sleep. Yeah, this had to be taken care of asap.
Ian had been right; this thing wasn't interested in him anymore. Certain that he'd be fine alone—actually he'd probably be safer that way—Vi slipped out of the room. Gently, she pulled the door shut.
"Coffee, ma'am?" came Ailbeart's voice behind her.
Viola jolted, stretching the wounds on her back. She turned and glared at the valet. He carried a serving tray with a single steaming mug, a pitcher, and an assortment of other things that Vi never put in her coffee. Somehow, he was impeccably dressed and seemed well rested to boot.
"What are you doing out here?" she whispered, stepping away from the closed door.
"My job, ma'am," he answered evenly. "Coffee?"
"Thanks." She took the mug when he extended the tray, eying him suspiciously. "You dudes are a little creepy sometimes."
"It comes with the territory, ma'am." He followed her as she headed for the stairs. "Would you like some sugar or milk for your coffee?"
"No, thank you. I prefer it black." She climbed toward the second floor.
"Did you find the pain meds that I placed on your bedside table?" He remained on her heels. "Where are we going, ma'am?"
"Yes, and thanks, I did find the pills." She gazed over her shoulder at him, finding his attention very weird. But then, it probably wasn't normal for overnight guests to wander the house. "I'm going to the vault room. I wouldn't recommend that you follow me in."
"I see, ma'am." Reaching the darkened hallway, he stayed at her side. "Might I inquire though, what would happen if I should enter?"
"You'd probably die," Viola answered as they stopped outside the soot-covered door. It looked like a portal to Hell. Observing the darkness, she blew on her coffee and then risked a big gulp. Amazingly, it was the perfect temperature. "Good coffee."
"Thank you." He watched her. "How can you enter the room without dying?"
"My tattoos help protect me." She raised an arm to show him the plethora of religious symbols. "But I also think the voices have been trying to tell me something…Maybe something they want me to do."
"Fascinating, ma'am," he responded without any real enthusiasm.
Amused by him, she took another swig of the awesome coffee and set it on his tray. "Are you able to open the door?"
"Of course." He walked over to the hidden panel and, a second later, the door whooshed open. "Mr. Grave granted you permission to enter as you please."
"That was considerate of him," Viola said and lifted the locket dangling around her neck. Bought on the streets of Egypt, the piece of jewelry had originally been some cheap knockoff. That is, until she'd sealed a certain creature within. Then, the flimsy metal chain became pure gold while the locket was transformed into solid blue jade and carved with the canine head of Anubis. Placing her lips against the locket, she whispered in Egyptian Arabic, "Shepard of Death, awake."
Opening the tiny oval, cobalt and ebony sand tumbled out. At first, it was only a tendril or two of dust but soon it began to gather. A shape formed, growing more defined and tangible by the second.
"Ma'am, what are you doing?" Ailbeart stepped back with concern.
She peered at him and smiled. "My job."
10
Aaron sat outside the vault room on a recently added loveseat. His worn bible laid open in his lap, though he'd memorized the entire book long ago. He was even well versed in the texts that the church didn't include in the official version.
Viola sat cross-legged in front of the money pallets. With her eyes shut, she appeared to be meditating but Aaron knew it was much more than that. Seated next to her was an impossibly large black, short-haired dog. He wore a gold ribbon that wrapped twice around his neck and hung down his front in two strands. More gold was painted around the dog's eyes, inside of his pointed ears, and plated his eyebrows.
"How did she get injured?" Lana asked, drawing Aaron's attention.
With her camera pointed at Vi, she was perched on the floor. Lana had bartered for it at a flea market in Russia after hearing that film cameras could sometimes capture images of the unseen world. The thing was old and clunky but taking pictures and developing them herself quickly became a passion. Now she was surrounded by dozens of her photos all scattered about the floor, waiting to be carefully examined for anomalies. Though, a few were candid shots taken in fun.
"Um, the entity threw her into a mirror." Aaron was careful to leave out where it'd taken place. Lana had been exposed to plenty at a young age and sometimes she seemed wise beyond her years, but Aaron still felt a need to shield her whenever he could—or perhaps that was how God felt. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference. "Mr. Grave called his concierge doctor to stitch her up."
"His what?" her nose scrunched.
He shrugged. "Apparently it's a doctor who makes house calls for the rich."
"I miss all the good stuff," she mumbled into her camera and snapped some more photos.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew Aaron's attention. Ailbeart was pushing a cart laden with food and drink. How did he get it up the stairs? Next to him was Mr. Grave, dressed to the nines. Did he only own suits?
"Since you both refused to come down for breakfast, I decided to bring it to you," Ailbeart said, giving Lana a chastising glare. "I hope you like homemade cinnamon rolls. There is coffee for the adults and orange juice for Miss Rose."
"Ah, sweet!" Lana quickly set her camera aside and accepted the icing covered roll. "You're a beautiful man."
Grinning at Ailbeart's subtle scowl, Aaron accepted a cup of coffee. "Thank you."
Ian peered into the vault room and his eyes bulged. "Is that a dog in there with her?"
"Don't try to pet it, sir," Ailbeart grumbled, handing his boss a mug. "It does not like that."
The valet left the breakfast cart and headed down the hall. Ian stared blankly after him, then went back to watching Viola and the dog. To get a closer look, Ian moved toward the door. Alarmingly fast, the dog's head snapped his gaze onto Mr. Grave.
"What the hell?" Ian jumped. "That's not a normal dog."
"No, he's a jackal actually," Aaron answered, trying to hide his amusement. They'd all been startled by him on occasion. "Jackals are some of the earliest exorcists. They prowl the tombs of Egypt searching for wayward souls."
"Vi caught him herself during her first year in the field," Lana added, her mouth half-full of gooey roll. "She's the only exorcist to ever successfully bind a jackal to an object. I'd have killed to see how she did it."
"It was really something. She knew right where to find him and just what to do." Aaron recalled the night when they'd broken into the Valley of the Kings. Standing among those tombs and seeing that otherworldly jackal in the beam of their flashlight had been the eeriest thing he'd ever witnessed in those days. "Jackal's don't like the living. Lore states that they'll kill any living thing that gets too close, but Viola walked right up to him…and he greeted her like an old friend."
"Is he a demon? Why would he do that?" Ian kept his eyes on the jackal while taking a pastry from the cart.
"Not a demon. As far as the church can guess, he doesn't belong to Satan or God," Aaron explained. "I believe that he belongs to death and that's why he allowed Vi to approach because they're the same."
"But I thought she'd been chosen by God. How can she be chosen by God and belong to death?"
"All things were chosen by God for a purpose, even Lucifer." Aaron sipped his coffee, watching Viola place a hand gently on the jackal's spine. "This was the role chosen for Vi. She, like the jackal, must walk the shadows that separate the living and the dead."
"His name is Anubis, by the way." Lana left her camera hanging at her neck and pulled on her headphones, blaring some female-fronted rock band as she perused the photos around her.
"Like the Egyptian god." Ian sat next to Aaron and shook his head. "So, what is Viola doing in there? Why isn't she being attacked like before?"
"I don't know." Aaron chuckled. He rarely understood what Viola did and she liked to act without explanation. "When I woke up, she was already in there with Anubis. She's been sitting like that for the last couple hours."
"Huh." Ian reclined, his mouth squished in frustration. "But do you at least know why Anubis is there?"
"Helping her listen to the voices would be my guess, and then consulting with her about it." Aaron held up a hand, forestalling Ian's next question. "They can hear each other's thoughts. That's all I know about it."
"Huh," Ian repeated, lifting his coffee to his nose.
Aaron wondered about Ian's thoughts as the man stared at Viola. From the moment they'd met, Ian had watched Vi with interest. Now there was something deeper to his gaze—not that Aaron had much personal experience with relationships. Was Ian developing feelings for Aaron's stepsister? Turning back to his bible, he smiled at the thought. Viola deserved a chance at real love if that's where their relationship was headed.
It wouldn't be easy for Ian to win her over since she kept love at arm's length. After what Billy had done, Aaron couldn't blame her. It'd devastated her, and Aaron never fully forgave himself for not being there when she needed him. If he hadn't been late for his next class because he'd been distracted by God's voice, maybe he could've stopped it…
Aaron glanced at his stepsister, pushing aside that old regret. Someone had to break down her walls eventually and show her that there was more to life than exorcising demons. God didn't have any objections, so Ian could be the right guy for the task. Though, God wasn't really known for being a hater. Perhaps he wasn't the best judge for this situation.
If Anubis hadn't been with her this time to share the load, Viola might not have been able to withstand a second onslaught. Fortunately, with Vi and Anubis listening, the early morning hours rolled by and, one-by-one, the restless souls
fell silent. The whispering now was barely a flutter against her brain.
Viola opened her eyes and glanced at her Anubis. He looked back, his lips curling in a way that had to be a smile and his tail gave two short wags. With black eyes and shining gold disks for irises, his gaze was enthralling. Anubis always struck her as shockingly beautiful.
I think you are beautiful, too, Viola Danvers, he said into her mind.
His voice was strong and rich, smooth as butter. He only spoke to her in Ancient Egyptian, which Vi loved. The language was stunning, unlike any other language she'd ever heard.
Thank you, she responded and pushed to her feet.
Anubis stuck to her side as though he'd been through heavy obedience training, but that's just the way they were together. His binding hadn't been forced. After she'd met him in the Valley of the Kings, Viola had made the offer and he'd accepted eagerly. They'd been inseparable ever since.
It is because we are companions. He looked at her as they stepped out of the vault. Companions do not stray from one another.
Ian sprang to his feet abruptly, causing Anubis to growl and flash his razor-sharp fangs. The eagerness dropped from Ian's expression as he lifted his hands in submission. Appeased, Anubis fell silent and planted his hindquarters on the floor.
You're right, companions never stray. Viola smiled at Anubis and knelt to touch her forehead to his. They peered at each other from centimeters apart as she scratched behind one of his long, pointed ears. "Thank you for your help today, old friend."
She cracked open the locket and bluish-black sand swirled out. It wisped around Anubis, enveloping him until he too was nothing more than particles of dust. Then, like some strange vortex, the mass of sand sucked back into the necklace. Viola snapped the locket shut at the very last second.
"Are you all right?" Ian asked tentatively.
"Yeah, I'm okay." Viola pushed to her feet and stretched her body after hours of stillness. "Anubis was a big help."
"The voices didn't hurt you?" His tone was even, but his eyes gave away his worry.