Wickedly They Dream

by Cathrina Constantine

  Ezekiel broke in with, “The Powers have ascertained that a rogue demon is contaminating your world.” He’d glanced briefly at Jordan and then Seeley. “You know that tiny voice in the back of a person’s mind? It has the potential to influence and bend someone to the dark side. And now, with hells demons oozing into the world, taking over human souls, someone has implemented a diabolical plan to create a new progeny. We’re presently at a crossroad and—”

  “Demons are impregnating humans,” Markus interrupted. “And giving birth to what we tend to call half-breeds . . .”

  THE SOFT TOUCH of Father James’s hand on her arm disrupted Seeley’s memories.

  “I’ve been informed about the half-breeds as well,” he said with eyes full of empathy.

  Seeley pressed the bridge of her nose to thwart the tears then fixed bleary eyes on him. The priest thought she was distraught—a gross understatement. She’d been harboring her secret for weeks and had struggled to confess to Father James that she’d been demon raped. It was imperative that he be in the loop, and could no longer put off the inevitable. As the horrific tale unfolded, she fumbled her words and her anxiety-ridden fingers clenched and unclenched.

  After relating the appalling event she raised her cooled tea to moisten her parched mouth, and then asked for a piece of paper. With trembling fingers, she jotted down what the apparition of the woman clothed with the sun had said.

  If the priest looked pale before she’d begun her tale, he was now even more ashen faced. Nonplussed, he fingered the proffered paper and read the five words, asking, “When did you receive this?”

  “Earlier this morning. It’s been eighteen years.” She watched him reading the brief phrase a second time, recalling memories of another gaunt and fragile priest, Father Posluszny reading a message before Jordan’s birth.

  Father James removed his reading glasses and massaged his brow. “Seeley, you’re pregnant?”

  “After Jordan’s birth,” she said taking a breath, “I was told by the doctor I’d more than likely never have another child.”

  “Possibly you’d conceived before the . . . the incident?”

  Tilting her head, she hitched up her slight shoulders. “There’s no way of knowing, now.” In nervous mode, she brushed her palms over the thighs of her jeans. “What’s to be done?”

  He seemed to be reflecting and reread the message aloud. “The infant has a soul.” He bobbed his head, a hopeful expression on his face. “Endowment of a soul only comes from God.” He lifted the teacup to his mouth, and after a generous swallow, mumbled, “Deus vult. God wills it.”

  His all-knowing gaze fastened on her. She wasn’t surprised when his eyes glazed like ice over water. She had seen his mysticism countless times. He was reading her soul, so much like her old mentor had. Not offended, she gazed back and waited for a sign to alleviate her suffering heart.

  His eyes dilated. Then he blinked several times as if he was coming out of a trance. She examined him for signs of hope and clarification of the future. She didn’t like what she saw, a combination of hardship and vague optimism.

  “Seeley, we must leave the matter in God’s hands.” Sitting rigidly, his fingers gripped the armrest of the chair as if he was battling inner demons. “Surrender. Humble yourself in accord with His mercy. Be happy, rejoice.”

  She dropped her head into her hands, dragging in an openmouthed breath. She wanted more, much more from him. “Father Posluszny consecrated Jordan before she was born.” She tried to sound upbeat. “Would it be possible for you to do the same? If the child is from God, He’d want it to be consecrated to Him.”

  His eyelids twitched before he nodded his head in acceptance. “Of course, I should’ve thought of that.” He eased off the chair, a little unstable, groping for something to hang onto as if he’d been emptied of vigor. Slanting, he reached and hovered his right hand over her stomach. “Almighty God, bless and consecrate this child growing in Seeley—”

  Seeley coughed, holding a hand over her mouth.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  Suddenly nauseous, she bent over and clutched her midsection. “Must be morning sickness. I feel like I’m going to throw-up.” Her voice quavered. “Continue. Finish.” Peering at him, she noticed pinpoints of moisture on his forehead and upper lip.

  “May this child be blessed with God’s endless grace.” While he was praying, the weight of something dark and forbidding encompassed them. He made the sign of the cross over her. “I pray for the angels to guard and protect the unborn infant and through its lifetime.”

  An unexpected gush of acidy fluid coursed up Seeley’s throat. She plastered a hand over her mouth and hurried to the nearest bathroom. She returned, totally wiped, and apologized, “Sorry, Father. I … I’d better be going.”

  “Now is the time to amp up your prayer life,” he suggested, while fingering his rosary beads. “You need to be vigilant. Keeping evil at bay. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. He ushered her along the rectory’s hallway toward the office and realized, too late, a gaggle of women had convening in the chairs, waiting for the secretary.

  Jumping from a chair, a lady blocked their exit. “Seeley?”

  “Yes?” Seeley took in the short and thickset lady, who was decked out in a sundress like an overly stuffed sausage with a head of ashy-blonde curls.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” The lady hedged her body to the right and to the left, seemingly to prevent Seeley from leaving.

  Seeley hadn’t the vaguest idea of who the woman foiling her exit was.

  Father James laced his fingers in front of his cassock. “Seeley,” he interposed, “this is our newest parishioner, Mariah Stanek.” Then saying to Mariah, “Seeley needs to get home. She’s not feeling well.” The woman eyed Seeley. “Please excuse me. I also have to get back to work.” Abandoning Seeley, he pivoted and walked away.

  “Stanek is my married name,” Mariah said to her. “My maiden name was Andrejewski.”

  Seeley’s stomach was beginning to roll again. “It’s nice to meet you, but I really need to be going.”

  She started to step around the lady, but Mariah again moved in front of her. “High school. We went to school together, remember?” she charged, her eyes wide. “You seemed to disappear right after graduation. Everyone said you got married and left town. I don’t blame you. There’s nothing in this village if you like any kind of action. In fact, I just got back from California. Maybe we could get together and rehash.”

  “Someday, but not today. Sorry.” Finagling her way around the intrusive woman, she thought, how wrong could Mariah be? Seeley had seen her fair share of action in the town.

  SURRENDER TO HIS WILL

  SEELEY SPENT THE summer day in Elma waiting for Jordan to come home. In normal conditions, her husband would be the first to be enlightened of the pregnancy. Nevertheless, conditions were not normal. She swept a cursory glance over the manicured yard and Em’s thriving gardens of delphiniums, lupines, and hollyhocks. Stationed on the front porch of their small Cape Cod home, she mulled over her dilemma.

  The noise of a motor drew her eyes toward the street. She waved a hello to Jordan’s boyfriend as Thrill’s car veered into the driveway. Exiting the car, Jordan smiled and headed her way.

  Seeley observed her daughter’s toned arms and legs, green shorts, striped shirt, and black flip-flops snapping at her heels. Her innate beauty continued to amaze Seeley. Jordan’s inner tenacity and sheer faith only added to her loveliness.

  She leapt over the two steps, landing on the porch. “Hey, how you doing?” Jordan asked cheerfully. She dumped her book bag and dropped into the Adirondack chair. “Well, I cleaned out my locker, last day of exams. I’m officially a senior.”

  Seeley loved to see her daughter’s eyes glitter like emeralds with the prevalent gold flecks, so like her father’s. “How were your exams?”

  “Today was my math exam, it’s the only one I was worried about, but I’ll
pass.” Jordan wound her hair on top of her head and fanned her neck.

  Seeley grinned. “It was only yesterday when I wanted to tie you to the chair so you’d do your work. Homeschooling was hard and easy. You have an analytical mind. I’m positive you excelled and proved yourself this first year in school.”

  “You did a great job. I rocked it.” Jordan released her mane of hair to pour over her shoulders. “It’s odd without Markus being around. He said he’d be a whisper away, though he hasn’t showed. And after what happened to you and Declan, I thought for sure he’d want to talk to me.”

  Seeley could relate from her own experience with her guardian angel. “Oh, he’s here, Jordan. Just not transforming corporally, I’m sure. For many years, I thought I’d lost Zeke, only to learn he’s with me in spirit all the time.”

  “But I miss seeing him.” Jordan’s objection sounded whiny, and she demanded rather harshly, “Markus. I want to see you. Now.”

  Nothing

  “See?” She flapped her arms, disgusted. “He’s not here.”

  Seeley tsked, shaking her head. “You do understand there’s an invisible war being fought between the realms. As you know, Markus is an intrepid seraph. If you were in danger, he’d be here in an instant. He’s not tailing you every minute of the day.” Gazing into her daughter’s face, she gasped. It wasn’t Jordan staring at her, but the glistening eyes of Jack Chase.

  Squeezing her eyelids, Seeley kneaded her brow and then scraped her fingers along her temples. Her head felt as if it was splitting in two.

  “Are you feeling all right?”

  She opened her eyes to Jordan’s frowning expression, and whispered, “You remind me so much of your father.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “He was gorgeous.” She sighed in a low undertone.

  “I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

  Seeley chewed on her bottom lip. “I need to tell you.” Jordan’s look of concern almost made her lose her nerve, but she needed to buck-up. “It’s quite a paradox.” She hesitated and gulped. “I’m pregnant.” By the baffled look on her daughter’s face, her announcement didn’t seem to register.

  When it finally soaked in, Jordan cried, “Mom, that’s great.” Appearing elated, she sprang from the chair and hugged her.

  Seeley couldn’t suppress her tears.

  “Is Declan mad about the pregnancy?”

  “Declan doesn’t know yet.” She raked her fingers over her chest as if it pained her. “Jordan, we’re basically so much attuned, like, we have the same mind. Do you sense …” She paused. “Look at me. What vibes are you picking up?”

  KEENLY STUDYING HER mom’s blue eyes, Jordan’s fingers gripped her knees as she leaned forward. A strange presence weaved into her psyche.

  Seeley lowered her eyelashes, breaking the connection. Sniffing, her mom had a fit of hiccups. “I didn’t tell you … everything … that’d happened in Sherando.” Reticent for a moment, she said, “The wraith possessed Declan.”

  “The wraith— Forced Declan to . . . to . . . rape me.” Seeley appeared fraught, unable to speak for a moment. “Declan’s spirit fought so hard.” A gully of tears flowed along her nose and cheeks. She tugged at the sleeve of her shirt and wiped her face. “I could’ve conceived before.”

  “Oh my God, Mom, I’m so, so sorry.” Comprehending the full force of her mom’s confession, Jordan rocked back in her chair, eyes stinging with tears. “Weeks ago, before disappearing, one of the last things Markus asked me was how you were feeling. At the time, I thought it was odd.” Her gaze dropped to her mom’s stomach, and the dream flashed to the forefront of her mind. Half-breed. But this wasn’t the moment to add extra trauma.

  “I saw an apparition this morning and a message.” Seeley continued to wipe her fingers beneath her eyes while trying to force a smile. “‘The infant has a soul.’”

  Jordan relaxed to some degree. “Demons don’t have souls.”

  “Father James said I must surrender to God’s will and be happy.”

  Jordan understood. She reached across and squeezed her mom’s hand. “I agree with Father James.”

  FORSAKE HER NOT

  “TWISTED TOUR IS next week, and I got tickets.” Thrill looked psyched. “Take It to the Morgue and Catalyst are going to be there. And I heard a lot of local bands are scheduled to show. They’re all decent,” he said while stringing a strand of Jordan’s hair above her ear. “Rolly, Paisley, and Cayden are coming, too. You’re in right?”

  Jordan read the excitement on her boyfriend’s face. Boyfriend. They’d started dating exclusively within the past month, in-between all the mayhem and demon rousing, and having a boyfriend still seemed surreal.

  What really annoyed the girls at Elma High was the hold she seemed to have over the Legend’s quarterback, Thrill McKenna. It only complicated matters when they assumed that, if Jordan had been an accomplice with the witchy Ronan, then she also must have some magic empowering her. The asinine rumors were very amusing, to a point.

  She peered into his amber eyes. He assumed she shared his obsession concerning the head-smashing bands. Although never into the band scene, she felt it was time to get with the program.

  “Sure, I’ll go. But I don’t know any of the bands.” She took note of his freshly groomed hair, cut into short burnt-sienna spikes, and masked her disappointment. She preferred his head teeming with curls.

  “Yes you do,” he said. “I play them all the time in the car.”

  They sat rocking back and forth on the hammock tethered between two giant oak trees in Jordan’s backyard on the first day of summer vacation. The smell of clean clothing and aftershave mingled on his skin. She breathed deep. Thrill leaned backward on the hammock and unexpectedly pulled her on top of him. Feeling naughty, she peeked toward the house, hoping her grandparents were out of sight.

  Heat spread to her cheeks and along her neck. She was glad for her mantle of hair shuttering the sides of her head. Typically awkward in these circumstances, she didn’t know where to position her hands and opted to drape them over his shoulders. Warmth radiated through his cotton T-shirt, which bulged when his arms locked over her back, squishing her even closer—close enough to feel his heartbeat.

  Thrill’s lips touched the corner of her mouth, as his fingers snaked into her hair, urging her to accept the full pressure of his kiss, parting her lips. His other hand glided to her lower back, pressing her into his hard body. Sweetened with alien stirrings, her pulse accelerated, making her head whirl.

  A familiar harrumph sounded nearby, and she clumsily extracted herself from his embrace, flopping to the ground.

  Her grandfather, with the newspaper tucked under his armpit and a glass of lemonade in his hand, was glowering at the two of them.

  Henry set the lemonade on the patio table and eased his arthritic body into a lawn chair. With a minor twist to his lips, he cracked the paper open. “I plan on lounging here for a while to read the paper. I thought you two kids might want to know that I’m here.”

  Thrill extended a hand to Jordan who jumped up from the grass, brushing her backside. She was more than slightly embarrassed. But Thrill looked perfectly fine with Henry’s presence, which led her to believe he’d been caught in make-out sessions before.

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. Kubiak.”

  Henry’s shaggy eyebrows appeared over the ledge of the paper. One brow lifted high, increasing a pattern of furrows on his forehead. “William.” Henry refused to use his nickname. “Been keeping my eye on you, son.” He paused, just enough to intimidate him. “Your stats, I mean, of course. The paper lists all the area’s high school football players and their stats. You’re one of the top. Keep up the good work and you’ll get a scholarship for college.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s the plan. I have a few offers to pour over.” Thrill shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, and then turned to Jordan. “I’d better get to work. My dad will blow a gasket if I’m late.”<
br />
  Henry lowered the paper. “Are you still working at your father’s collision shop on Maple Road?”

  “Yes. I’m one of the mechanics. My dad likes to give me all the dirty work.”

  “It’s a good job, boy. Don’t knock it,” Henry grunted and hid behind the paper again.

  Jordan noticed Thrill’s eye roll as they started to walk toward his classic Chevelle Malibu parked in the driveway. “I need to find a summer job,” she said. “Have any ideas?”

  “Yeah, you’d look good in one-piece overalls working at the collision shop,” he said, casting her one of his winsome smiles. “I could teach you a little something about engines.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind, but thanks for the advice.”

  The broad-shouldered boy leaned, captured her mouth for a brief kiss, and said, “I’ll call later.”

  Jordan watched him drive away, feeling disenchanted with her life. She turned to walk into the house and spotted her grandparents’ shiny Ford parked in the garage. She decided it was time to hunt for a summer job.

  Henry had agreed to let her borrow the car, especially since he believed teenagers were lazy and all should have jobs. He doled out a few bucks and stipulated that she return it with a full tank of gas.

  Once behind the wheel, Jordan steered to the business district on Main Street. Even though the mall, thirty minutes up the road, would have been ideal, she was without any form of transportation and had to stick closer to home.

  She perceived, too late, the familiar sparks as the car’s interior brightened. As she slammed on the brakes, her guardian angel made an impromptu and startling appearance.

  “Markus, you scared me half to death.”

  A discordant honking sounded from the rear. Jordan swerved the vehicle to the side of the roadway as an irritated driver gestured in sign language exactly how he felt about the abrupt stop.