“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”
“Not your fault, love,” Dash said, his voice tired but strong. “We knew the risk when we brought you here. You did better than we expected.”
“But I…”
“He’s right,” Lennox interrupted. He climbed to his knees, then eased himself upright. “We expected worse. We were prepared.”
Dorian didn’t want to know what that meant. Not yet. She was violently shaken by the exorcism, and as she gathered her thoughts, she realized the guy on the floor wasn’t breathing. “Is he um…”
“Yeah. And there was a pretty decent commotion, so we should probably get the hell out of here,” Briar said, packing everything away. She was taking no care with anything, shoving in half-corked vials and candles into unzipped bags. But the guys didn’t seem to mind, and in fact, were hurrying her along. Lennox bent over the body to retrieve the chains, and Dash went around the room smudging away any traces of the symbols left on the floor and walls.
Trembling and feeling sick to her stomach, Dorian tried not to look at the body, but her eyes were drawn to it. The symbols were burnt into his skin, and the gash made by Briar’s knife was still bleeding, though it had slowed to a gentle ooze. The voice rang in the back of her head again. ‘That will be you.’
She felt bile rising into her throat, and she forced herself to look away from the dead man. Would this be her? Would this be her fate? The idea of going through all that pain and torture, only to be left in a heap on the floor of an abandoned building, sent a new wave of fear rushing through her. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do this. Her hands started to shake and she choked back a small sob.
A warm arm came around her shoulders and she didn’t have to look up to know it was Dash. He squeezed her tight, whispering something in her ear that sent a wash of unexpected comfort through her limbs. She relaxed a little and let him hold her until Lennox and Briar finished tidying everything up, and together the four of them made their way back down to the car.
As they approached the curb, Lennox leaned over and whispered something to Dash who then nodded at Briar and the two of them swapped places. Briar jumped into the front, and Dash climbed in to the back. Dorian couldn’t express her gratitude, so instead she just allowed her head to rest on his shoulder and wondered if this was what it was like to experience family. She’d seen it often, but had always been outside looking in. Even the kindest caregivers in the group homes had never given her so much as a goodnight kiss on the forehead.
It was overwhelming yet again, and she did what she could to keep it together as they made their way back to the apartment. Her head was swimming with new information, new fear, and she still had to decide what she wanted to do. Father Stone was probably beside himself at her disappearance, and she could only imagine what Maria was thinking. She would have to deal with them eventually, no matter what she decided, but she didn’t have the energy for it just yet.
“You okay?” Dash asked a few minutes into the drive. “Was that your first dead body?”
Dorian shook her head against his shoulder as he gave her a comforting squeeze. “We had a couple of unfortunate incidents, as the hospital called them. Suicides. They tried to keep everyone in their rooms, but there was always a commotion and I got an eyeful a couple of times.”
“Not pretty, is it?”
Dorian let out a shaking breath. “Nope. Not even a little bit. But it’s not… it wasn’t the body, really.” It wasn’t a lie. The truth was, it wasn’t his death, but her own potential fate which shook her up. Regardless of whether Nic had her best interests at heart or not, he hadn’t been lying. Not about this. She could go the same way that poor bastard did. In fact, there was a very real chance she would.
And would these people, the ones comforting her and giving her tea and whiskey and cooking her breakfast, do the same thing to her? Leave her abandoned, scrubbed clean, set up like a suicide? Would Briar sink her knife into Dorian’s arm, then pack up and walk away like nothing happened?
The thought terrified her. Horrified her. And it was overwhelming.
The silence lasted until they got back to the apartment, and while Dash and Lennox carried everything up, Briar walked next to Dorian. They took the stairs two by two, anxious to be out of the open streets and in the safety of the warded walls. It felt odd, how quickly Dorian was adapting to the situation, but it also felt more familiar than anywhere she’d ever been.
“Let’s camp out,” Briar suggested. “The sofa folds out. I’ll grab blankets.”
The guys didn’t book any argument over that, quickly launching into a host of movies they could put on. Lennox grabbed sodas, Dash turned on the television, and the whole thing was suddenly strange and domestic.
Briar had the sofa bed spread out in seconds, a sea of blankets covering the entire thing, and she patted the spot next to her, beckoning Dorian over. “I know this seems weird, but it’s therapeutic. Trust me. You need human contact in order to deal with watching a man die.”
It made sense, and their weird movie ritual didn’t seem so bizarre all of a sudden. Bone-tired, she flung her borrowed boots off, set her phone on the side table, then climbed under the covers. Briar threw her arm around Dorian’s shoulders and let her nuzzle down.
“This is the weirdest night I’ve ever had.”
Briar laughed. “I hear you. These two morons got me hooked on this little post-ritual ritual and now I can’t live without it. But the first few times they made me have a cuddle fest, I was way not into it. I didn’t used to enjoy being touched.”
Dorian knew what that was like. Touch-starved for most of her childhood, it took a long time before skin-to-skin contact wasn’t overwhelming. Jemma had broken her of that though. They used to hide together under their blankets, wrapped in each other’s arms, talking about their potential futures together. It offered Dorian a healing which a lot of the system kids never got.
“You two ready?” Dash asked. He pushed play on the remote and one of the more popular super hero movies started to play. The volume was on very low, closed captions on the screen, and when Dorian frowned, Dash explained. “A lot of noise can trigger a negative emotional response. We all need to unwind after something that intense.”
Briar rolled her eyes. “He’s constantly reading this psycho-babble-bullshit on the internet and fancies himself a therapist to all of us now.” She ducked Dash’s playful punch, and after a few seconds of wrestling, the four of them were covered in the blankets and laying back to relax.
“Seriously lass, you okay?” Lennox sat up on his elbow to get a better look at her.
Dorian glanced over at him, trying to read his face before she answered. “I could hear him back there. Nic. He was telling me that if I let you two exorcise me, I was going to be that guy. A corpse on the floor of an abandoned building.” When her voice started to shake, Briar reached over and took her hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
“It could very well be,” Lennox answered after a few moments. “We’d never leave you cold, but it’s true, you might not survive.”
Dorian let out a puff of air. “I get that. I just… I’m not sure what I’m feeling, you know? I realize I have some options, though mostly it’s exorcising or death. But it’s all a lot to take in. Like a massive amount to take in.”
“We know.” Dash reached out to squeeze her ankle. “We do this a lot, you know. And the ones who do make it, the strong ones, it takes them a while to be okay.”
Nodding, Dorian allowed herself to feel comforted for a while. The tension leaving the room was almost physical, and by the time the movie was halfway over, Briar was snoring, her head propped up on the side of the couch, Dash was playing a game on his phone, and Lennox’s eyes were starting to droop.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dorian said to no one in particular.
Dash turned his head, putting his phone down. “Ask me anything.”
“That language you two use
to chant in. It’s not… from here, is it? From humans?” She wanted to tell them she could hear it every time she was pulled into that dark place, but she couldn’t bring herself to describe the horrors she experienced when she was drawn in to the exorcism.
Turning on his side, Dash let the side of his face squash onto Lennox’s thigh. “Mm, no, it’s not. A lot of our spells come from the demon realms. We call it the language of the liar.”
She let out a breath. Language of the liar. It was fitting. “I recognized it. When I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and they started medicating me, I lost a lot of memory. But I remember Nic used to talk to me like that. He taught me songs, only…” She trailed off, trying to cling to those buried images in her head. “I think maybe they were spells.”
Dash’s brow furrowed and he leaned up on his elbow. “It’s possible.”
“Have you ever heard of something like that?”
Lennox, who was alert and awake now, shook his head. “I know I haven’t. And I’ve been doing this a long time. In fact, I don’t know a lot of demons who interact with the ones they possess. At least, not in the way yours does.”
Rubbing her face, Dorian laid her head back and let out a frustrated groan. “Why me? Why is it different with me?”
Reaching out, Dash grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I know you’ve had a rough go of it, love. Your lot in life has been total shit and knowing you’ve got even more to go through, well I can’t imagine. But we’re here for you. Okay?”
Dorian smiled, but it was strained. “I get that. I appreciate that. I still don’t know why. I mean, okay I might be able to help your cause. Say I become a Reaper and I can help track down demons and fight the good fight. But I don’t quite know why either of you care so much.”
Dash and Lennox exchanged somber looks, and Dash shook his head before he answered. “Because, and I know it’s hard to accept with everything you’ve been through, but there are good people in the world. People who just care. For no other reason than to care. And Dorian, you’re deserving.”
Never in her life had she been told that before, and it struck something hard and emotional. Turning away so they wouldn’t see her fall apart, she pretended to fall asleep. She knew she wasn’t fooling them, but she appreciated them giving her that last shred of dignity as she cried into her pillow until she fell asleep.
Chapter Fourteen
Morning came, and with it, a fresh wave of exhaustion. Dorian’s body and brain weren’t used to uninterrupted sleep the way she got in the Exorcists’ apartment, and she realized her sleep debt was one she’d never be able to catch up on. Still, she had a sense of purpose as her eyes opened, and though she was alone on the sofa bed, she knew she wasn’t alone in the house.
The smell of bacon and coffee roused her from the covers, and she fumbled on her wrist for a hair tie to tame her messy locks. She tied it in a knot at the base of her neck as she stumbled onto the cold tiles, and saw Lennox frying a pan of bacon.
“Morning,” he said, giving her a tense smile. “You sleep okay?”
“Like a rock. I should have you guys come paint that stuff onto my bedroom walls.”
Lennox laughed as he handed her a mug. “Sure. If you want to fly our team of spell casters out to ward your room.”
Dorian pulled a face as she took her coffee hot and black, over to the kitchen table. “Where is everyone?” Glancing at the clock, she saw it was barely eight, and she was surprised Briar and Dash would rise that early.
“Mission reports.” Lennox piled the bacon on a plate along with a stack of buttered toast and offered it over. “Seekers sent a couple of the spell casters to scrub the building where we left the body. They needed Dash’s help since he’s one of the top guys in the field.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Dorian pointed out. “I saw you.”
“I’m not bad, but he’s one of the best. Believe me. You’re lucky to have him when it comes time for yours.”
Dorian’s face fell as she sipped the hot liquid. “You’re so sure I’m going to go through with it.” It was a statement, not a question, and Lennox regarded her for a few moments.
“You won’t take suicide. Don’t have to be supernatural to read that about you. And I don’t think you’re going to run.”
She rubbed her hand down her face and let out a small yawn. “You’re right. But you know, I think I need some space. I realize I’m at risk when I leave here. Nic’s probably waiting in the shadows for me to drop my guard, but I need some time to think. Without all…this.” She waved her hand around the apartment.
“I get it. We can load you up with a few things to keep him at bay and give you a couple days. We’re not going to let you walk into this blind, Dorian. I promise. This isn’t a hunt. You’ll be protected.”
“But I still might die, and that’s a lot to mull over. I don’t think I can do it with the three of you breathing over my shoulder.”
And with that, it was settled. Lennox booked no further argument, and even offered to drive Dorian home. She collected her filthy nightclothes she’d arrived in, promising to bring back Briar’s stuff freshly washed and pressed, and they were soon climbing into Lennox’s car. He drove something a lot smaller, two door, saucy red little thing that zoomed around corners at breakneck speeds.
Dorian clung to the handle, wondering if she should call Father Stone and explain to him what happened, but she figured in person would be better. She wanted to get into her quarters and shower, change clothes, and meditate on everything for a while. Once she had herself re-centered, she’d be able to have a logical conversation with her employer.
They pulled into the parking lot which led to church housing, and before she could reach for the door handle, Lennox leaned over and put another silver bracelet around her wrist. She had two pendants hanging around her neck now, and a coin in her pocket which Lennox insisted would protect her while she slept. At least as much as it could without the proper spells on the room.
She took everything, grateful for his kindness, and promised to be in touch. “I just need a day or two. I have a lot to think about.”
“I’m not worried, lass. You do your thing. And if you disappear, we have a team of people who can find you.” His tone conveyed more comfort than threat, but she took the words for what they were, gave him a one-armed hug, then got out of the car with her things in tow.
The grounds were empty for the time being, school was in session and all of the teachers were in class. She slipped down the hall undetected, and into her quarters where she found everything as she’d left it. Her bed was unmade, bedroom door half open with the hinges bowed, and the window was cracked.
It didn’t bother her much at the moment, not after all the new information she had. She knew what was happening and why, and it occurred to her that maybe part of her fear was rooted in walking through her life with no idea what was happening to her.
She went straight for the shower and spent twenty long minutes lathering up under the steaming hot jets of water. It felt good to wash the remnants of the night before, all the spells and rituals and death, off her skin.
Finished, she wandered back into her room and as she dressed, she pondered the entire situation. She was standing at her dresser, her gaze fixed on the amulet still sitting there untouched, and she realized that although she wanted time away from the group, her mind was already made up. Father Stone might have offered her a place to live, but Lennox and Dash were offering her a place to belong. Briar was calling for her to develop her strength, to see herself as something other than a broken girl from the system. They looked at her like a complete person, not a shadow of one destroyed by a shattered childhood.
Father Stone was a kind man, kinder than most clergy members, but he still didn’t believe in her beyond what the medication could make her. And that’s what made all the difference.
She slipped the amulet into the pocket of her jeans and decided she’d have a frank talk with the Father before headi
ng back over to the apartment. It was a risk, but everything was a risk. The medications the doctors kept her on posed a constant risk to her body’s health. This was no different. The exorcism only meant her death could come much sooner.
‘Dorian.’
The name ghosted across the back of her neck and she shivered. She could feel Nic nearby, and she closed her eyes tight, willing him away. The amulets around her neck and wrist burned, and the room went silent.
Letting out a breath, she walked to the desk and picked up her phone. She wasn’t sure where the Father was, and being that Nic was still trying to reach her, she knew wandering around the grounds while it was full of children wasn’t the best idea. His number was first in her phone’s quick-dial list, and she hit the button.
It rang three times before his worried voice picked up. “Dorian? Please tell me it’s you.”
“It’s me. I’m so sorry. Some… stuff came up.” She put her hand on her forehead as a wash of guilt flooded over her.
“Just tell me you’re okay.”
Dorian nodded, then let out a puff of air. “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. I’m here, actually. I’m in my room.”
There was a long pause before he spoke again. “I see. I wasn’t sure you’d be coming back.”
“I know. And I know things got crazy, but I finally got some answers. Listen, I don’t want to talk about this over the phone. Can we meet? Can you come down here?”
He was quiet again for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I can. Of course I can. I’ll be down in about fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t go anywhere. We can sit and talk this out.”
“Great.” The relief was palpable, and she couldn’t help her smile. Father Stone was a reasonable man, and if she could keep Nic at bay, and if she could just get him to sit and listen for a moment, she knew she’d get him to understand. Even if he wouldn’t truly believe. “Okay I’ll be here.”
The Reaping: Language of the Liar Page 11