Wickedly They Come (The Wickedly Series Book 1)

by Cathrina Constantine

  Jordan could almost feel the insatiable fervor rising in her mom’s speech. The audience clung to every syllable, slanting forward, nodding reflexively, refreshed by the words.

  “One person can make a difference,” she continued. “And, bit by bit, little by little, moral decency can and will prevail.”

  Father James eased into the pew next to Jordan, his eyes on Seeley. “She’s good. When I introduced her, I thought she was going to faint. But I can tell she’s touching a nerve. People are listening.”

  “Yeah, but there aren’t many here,” she said in a hushed voice.

  “People will leave here tonight, and hopefully, talk to other people. Goodness spreads like wildfire. Besides, we have many churches to visit. We’ll be at Saints Peter and Paul next week, and more people will carry the torch.”

  “Why don’t you tell them about demons attacking humans?” She cast him an indignant look. “That’d change things real quick.”

  Swallowing a breath, he shifted to face her. “Altercations between demons and humans have occurred for centuries. Most people are aware of evil.”

  “No, Father,” she said. “Not mind control or deception. I mean literally killing humans.”

  “I’d be afraid of people going off the deep end. It could cause panic, suicides, and depression. People would be scared to leave their homes. Civilization would come to a standstill. No, we cannot let Satan rule by fear.”

  Jordan twiddled her fingers. “Father, would you be disappointed if I decided not to fight? Demons, I mean.”

  “I sense you’re at a crossroads.”

  “Don’t say crossroads. Markus and Ezekiel just told us about the half-breeds.”

  “Ah–h, now I understand.” Father James’s stolid face brightened with a smile. “Jordan, I have it on good authority that God’s in control. It doesn’t appear that way, but have faith. The greater the faith, the more is expected of you. Belief will give you the confidence to persevere in your trials. We all have our crosses to bear, one way or another.” Seeley beckoned to him. The priest patted Jordan’s hand and rose, but before walking away he said, “Don’t be afraid, He is with you.”

  At the end of Seeley’s speech, people milled about, asking her questions and buying Jack’s book, which Seeley had appropriately titled, Beware. The proceeds would go toward another printing, due out in February.

  Shouldering their coats, Seeley thanked Jordan for her support. “How’d I do?”

  “You did great. Your voice carried loud and clear. I heard you from the last pew.”

  Heading for the car by a streetlamp flowing into the parking lot, Seeley unlocked the doors and huddled behind the steering wheel. “Whoa, it’s so cold.” She waved to Father James as he strode from the church. “He’s a good man and a holy priest. I saw you talking with him.” The engine roared to life. “Did he help?”

  “A little. Do you think I could try being normal? Take a break from the doom and gloom?”

  “I don’t think it works that way.” Hitching up her shoulders to her neck along with the lapels of her coat, Seeley shivered. “You can’t say you want the demons to leave you alone for a month, and then next month say, okay I’m back. You’d have to leave the battle completely. Even then, with your past,” she negotiated a turn, “I can’t be positive what would happen.”

  “I told Markus I have a tracking device with a bull’s-eye attached to my back.”

  Seeley slammed the steering wheel. “I know, I know.” On the verge of tears, her mom cried, “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what I’d do if anything…if anything ever—”

  Jordan cut her off. “Mom, I’m okay, really. Never mind. Forget what I said.”

  Glistening tears rolled down her mom’s face.

  THE ARROGANT HAVE RISEN

  WHISTLING A TUNE, Seeley shrugged on a new lavender jersey dress and wedged her feet into matching heels. Absorbed with Declan and their growing rapport, she glowed like a teenager. She swept a brush through her hair, and following a makeup inspection, trekked to the kitchen where her parents were eating dinner.

  “Phew, you look like Jordan,” Henry complimented and winked. “This Declan guy seems like an okay fella.”

  “He is, Dad.” Her stomach grumbled, and she snatched a carrot to fill the hole.

  “We should have him over for a family dinner,” said a thoughtful Emily. “Seeley, what do you think?”

  “It may be too soon.” She munched on the carrot. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

  “Are you embarrassed of us?” Henry protested in a gruff tone. “Think we’d frighten the poor guy away?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” she said. “I meant he’d think I was getting serious. You know what I mean.”

  “Well, are you serious?” Em asked with an expectant eye.

  Seeley drew in a breath, watching her parents on the edge of their seats. “He’s…he’s just right.”

  Em’s giddy smile enhanced her crow’s feet.

  “By the way, Dad, Declan isn’t a poor guy, and you’d never scare him off.”

  “Here he is now. Remember, Jordan’s at the diner with Thrill and should be home by eleven.” She slipped into her coat and swung open the door, then said over her shoulder, “Don’t wait up for me.”

  Declan stared at her feet. “You’re wearing those shoes?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Did you happen to look outside?” He said. “Snow, snow, and more snow.”

  “Don’t you like them?” She turned a shapely leg, showing off the comely heels.

  Declan’s appreciative smile answered that question. “They’re lovely. Come on, let’s go.”

  He clasped her elbow, and they made it to the car without any mishaps. Observing his surly brow and tense lips, she hoped a mood change was in order. He drove toward the city then detoured to the north. She’d assumed they had reservations downtown.

  “There’s been a change in plans,” he said, stone-faced.

  “Is there something wrong? You seem more than uptight.”

  His normally light eyes, darkened with his mood, flit to her and back to the road. “That bastard’s put me in quite a predicament,” he said. “Upper management’s breathing down my neck, and now I have to kiss his ass.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “Asa Trebane.” Declan seethed, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “His lawyer contacted The Courier and said he’ll sue for libel with the goal of taking over the paper or shutting us down. He implied the newspaper was a waste of natural resources.”

  “He signed the consent forms for publication. I did everything by the book, Dec.”

  “Yes, well, that’s not how he sees it. He claims you twisted his words and maligned his upstanding good character. ‘His benevolent disposition wrongly misrepresented by Seeley Chase,’ I believe was the exact quote.”

  Now it was Seeley’s turn to fume. “He said that? That contemptible, foul—”

  “Okay, okay, don’t get me going. We have to smooth this over.”

  “What’d you mean?” She didn’t like the sound of it. “How do we do that?”

  “Asa’s invited us to his country house tonight for an elegant dinner party. We are to proclaim our good host as an exceedingly charming man of sound and upright character.”

  “I can’t go there. This is like blackmail.” She clutched her purse. I forgot Holy Water.

  “You have to go with me, or we’ll both be out of a job by tomorrow. His lawyer insisted.”

  “Oh, Dec.” In dismay, she covered her eyes. “You don’t understand. That man, I despise him. He’s evil.”

  Swerving sharply to the curb, Declan banged the car into park. “Seeley, these financial geniuses think they rule the world, but they’re just rich sons-of-bitches. I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass if it didn’t mean our jobs.”

  She gazed at him striving to ward off her tears. When he glimpsed her face, his bottled-up fury seemed to wane.

&n
bsp; “Seeley, I’m sorry. Can you do this, for us?” He wiped a lone tear from her cheek.

  She wanted to tell him everything, but what would he think of her?

  A lunatic who has visions and kills demons? Could she spill her guts about Jack, the demons, Ezekiel, Markus, and most importantly, Asa? Would her outlandish ravings sound genuine, or would Declan drop the loony like a greased pig? She decided not to risk it, and she nodded, conceding to Asa’s demand.

  For years, she’d avoided romantic attachments. Now she’d broken her own rules and brought Declan into Asa’s world of black magic. Her decision was made—this would be their last date.

  Entering the stately mansion, the pit of her stomach turned to rot. A concentration of ungodliness and impurity assaulted her senses, and a scowl continued to ride Declan’s face. She understood his dilemma. He was not the type of man to compromise his integrity.

  Disrupting her thoughts, Zeke spoke, ‘This house is dedicated to Lucifer with consensual human sacrifice and immeasurable transgressions. I will not be able to abide for long. I’d advise you to leave.’

  ‘I can’t turn back now’

  Her unequivocal sense of dread was not contagious as laughter sounded from the neighboring rooms. A bizarre painting of The Temptation of Jesus, hung in the foyer, depicting Jesus succumbing to the Devil and soaring off a building. Unconventional bronze icons decorated a wall and side tables held vases spilling with bouquets.

  An aloof man in a butler’s garb led them to an elaborate study or library. Vintage Brazilian cherry panels wrapped the high-rise walls, and sconces gleamed on wood. Shelved walls lined with leather-bound books, and a fire was simmering on the hearth. To Seeley’s relief, she recognized a few dignitaries in the room.

  Then she saw Asa. Even the pitch of his voice made her hostile, his suave performance designed to delude the most intelligent guest. As if Asa felt her eyes touch him, he turned and held her gaze.

  “Ah, here they are.” Asa raised a champagne glass to toast their entrance. “To Editor-in-Chief and his intrepid reporter, may you live well and prosper.”

  As if on cue, a waiter proffered a serving tray of fluted glasses. Seeley, only too happy to oblige, drained the glass, hoping to quell her anxiety.

  Asa swagger over to the couple, offering his hand. Declan sneered as if he wanted to break each finger.

  “Let’s get a picture for the paper, shall we?” Asa’s tone was crisp. He signaled a young man with a camera. “Over here, Jimmy Olsen.”

  A young man with scarlet freckled cheeks in a rented tux pushed through the people. “Hello, Mr. Donavan. Thank you for the assignment. You know I’m really Thomas Parker, but Mr. Trebane likes to call me Jimmy Olsen. Um, I think you get the joke.”

  “Hey, Thomas.” Allaying his stern expression, Declan thumped the young man on the shoulder. “Thanks for helping out on such short notice.”

  Asa hedged between Seeley and Declan, modifying his tenor from genial host to tyrant. “Look pleased because we’re such good friends.”

  Thomas adjusted the lens and snapped the shot.

  Seeley brushed his hand from her shoulder. “What the hell are you trying to prove?”

  “We’ll talk later.” With that perfunctory answer, he wandered over to an assembly of notable men and women dripping in their finery.

  Seeley counted seven red-ringed eyes, plus the notorious Veronka in a risqué evening gown that left little to the imagination. Veronka taunted her with a condescending grin.

  Declan clinked their glasses together. “My apologies, Seeley, for spoiling the evening.”

  “Let’s sneak out as soon as possible.”

  His previous sourness drastically changed with an optimistic shake of his head as he sipped his champagne and peered at her.

  They conversed with the industrious mayor, Peter Grifton, and several well-known swindlers representing themselves as lawyers and financial experts, as well as Mr. Virgil Detroit, who owned three-fourths of The Courier Express.

  Virgil wrung Declan’s hand. “You made the right decision. Trebane will let the whole thing blow over, I’m sure.” Then, spying Seeley, he smiled. “So, this is the infamous Seeley Chase?”

  “Infamous, no.” She let him hold her hand. “But yes, I’m Seeley Chase.”

  “Play your cards right with Asa, and someday you’ll have a Pulitzer.” Virgil eyed her from head to toe. “He’s the right man to boost your climb.”

  A foul gurgle emanated in Declan’s throat, and his scowl returned. “Excuse us, Virgil, Trebane’s motioning for us.”

  Guests strode along the marbled hallway to a chandeliered dining area, where chairs with red jacquard cushions lined an elongated Elizabethan table. Crystal goblets, fine bone china, and a roped garland of white and red roses, accented with greenery, ornamented the table.

  “My dear, Seeley,” Asa said from behind them, “you have a place of honor on my right side, and Mr. Donavan will be seated . . . elsewhere.” Asa, his hand on Seeley’s waist, guided her away, cutting off her protest.

  When the third course of lobster bisque had been served, Asa gave her a sidelong glance. “You’ve hardly touched a thing. I’ve hired the best gourmet chefs from New York City to provide you with the finest of culinary delights.”

  “Oh, Asa, you shouldn’t have,” she derided.

  “Tut, tut, be a good girl and eat your soup.” He bit his bottom lip. “You’ll need your strength.”

  Seeley located Declan at the far end of the table. Veronka, seated next to him, whispered in his ear. Her taloned fingertips skimmed his jaw line, and then slipped beneath the table. Declan smirked at the beguiling woman, his arm also dipped below the table. She had an irresistible impulse to use her telekinesis to splat their plates into their laps, though, she held her power at bay.

  Asa caught her watching them. “Veronka likes to play with her food.”

  Every nerve in her body hated him, making her actions jerky. Reaching for her glass of wine, trembling fingers tipped the stemware, sloshing red fluid over the white linen, resembling blood. When the main course was removed, the travesty of a meal was close to a conclusion.

  “If your feely-mealy fingers touch me one more time,” Seeley’s malicious whisper was said with a smile, “I’ll cut them off.”

  As waiters served a decadent dessert of tiramisu garnished with chocolate spires, Asa grabbed her wrist. “Come with me.”

  Seeley looked for Declan, but he was trapped in Veronka’s net of desire. Stumbling, Asa pulled her through a small door.

  MEANWHILE, JORDAN BIT into her bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich at the Elma Diner. “Umm, I was starving.”

  Thrill jut his chin to the entrance. “Cayden and Paisley just walked in. Want them to join us?”

  “Sure, why not?” She waved the girls over.

  Bringing the cold with them, they stripped off their gloves and hats and plopped onto the chrome chairs. “It’s bitter outside. I need hot chocolate,”— she said as she gestured wildly for the waitress.

  “We missed you at Ronan’s,” Cayden said. “You promised to be there.”

  “Sorry, but my mom wouldn’t let me go.” Judging by their pallid expressions, it hadn’t been a good time. “Ouija Board again?”

  Paisley and Cayden exchanged glances, neither in a hurry to explain.

  “Ronan needs to quit that junk,” Thrill said. “Tell her to eff off.”

  Cayden snickered while gnawing on a hangnail.

  “It’s not that simple.” Paisley glared at him. “Ronan can move things. I mean make things fly without touching them.”

  “It’s true.” Cayden nodded.

  “It’s kind of phenomenal, really.” Paisley scanned the restaurant and spoke in a whisper. “Last night was berserko. She burst the bulbs in all the light fixtures, a magazine shredded to pieces, and a plate flew, crashing into the wall. Then an ashtray clunked Cayden in the head. That was kind of funny,” she said. Cayden massaged the bruise on her head as sh
e continued. “The girl’s got an awesome ability that scares the shit out of me.”

  “What a freak show,” Thrill said. “How’s it possible?”

  Jordan fidgeted. Will he think I’m a freak?

  Paisley shrugged. “She’s got some kind of power. I dunno, but I’m not messing with her. If she says run, I run. If she says walk, I walk.”

  “Ronan looked so needy at school. I actually felt sorry for her,” Jordan relayed. “Why was she so angry?”

  Cayden’s face screwed up while scrunching her nose in thought. “Paisley, do you remember? It was after you called, Jordan, saying you couldn’t make it—”

  “Mark called,” Paisley said, matter-of-fact. “She ran upstairs to talk to him. It was after his call. And don’t ask me what they talked about. I don’t know.”

  “Speak of the devil, look who’s walking in,” Thrill said.

  Ronan and Mark grabbed two chairs and bellied up to their table.

  “Jordan,” Ronan was quick to say. “Your mom’s at Asa Trebane’s.”

  “My mom’s on a date with Mr. Donavan. They were going to the city.” Digging in her purse, she retrieved her phone and dialed. It went directly to voicemail. She looked at Markus, whose eyes gave her confirmation.

  “Who’s this Trebane guy,” Thrill asked, confused. “And why should it matter if your mom’s at his house?”

  “Asa Trebane is like the scourge of the Earth.” Jordan speared her hands into the sides of her hair.

  “Wow, apparently you don’t like this guy,” Thrill said

  “I wouldn’t even call him a man, more like a beast.” She pushed her crumb-filled plate.

  Ronan leapt to her feet. “We’re wasting time. Let’s go to my house.”

  Thrill checked his cell. “It’s after ten. Jordan has to be home by eleven, and we have midterms tomorrow.”