Rederrick came on with a cheerful voice. “James, my boy. How’d it go?”
“We were attacked,” James explained. Still reeling in shock, his voice lacked emotion.
“Dad, it’s bad. Selena is dead,” Tracy added.
“What? Is everyone okay?”
“We’re fine for the most part. Banged up some, but Cade and Jarrett managed to get us out of there. Detective Hall helped too.”
“Detective Hall?” questioned Rederrick. "He knows then?"
“I do now,” Jonah mumbled.
“Dad, you gotta get out of there,” Tracy stressed. “They’ve been to our house before. There’s no guarantee they aren’t coming back for Cade and Jarrett again.”
“Agreed. I’ll gather up everyone here and call you with a plan. Find somewhere to hole up until then.”
“Dad,” James said as worry worked its way through his shock. “Be careful. There’s a new kind of demon. It takes over your body. Uncle Cade calls it a phase demon.”
“We’ll be careful, son. You be careful, too, and take care of your sister. This family has lost enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cynda then came on, and Tracy picked up the phone and turned the speakerphone off. She was on the phone a long time, and Jonah barely heard two words she said.
His mind drifted. Jonah had been a cop all his life. He always wanted to be a cop, or at least as far back as he could remember. It hadn’t been as easy as he thought. He’d clawed and climbed his way up to his current position with hard work, long hours dealing with the worst scum, and little pay as a reward—still, he loved it.
Last year, everything changed. When he had to rat out his crooked captain, in his hometown no less, the scorn and backlash had been bad enough the chief had recommended a change in venue. So here he was, having the worst night of his life and wondering to himself if any of his hard work even mattered.
Nothing in all his years of toeing the blue line and keeping people safe had even come close to preparing him for what he experienced tonight. After seeing a demon for the first time, he wasn’t even sure he’d kept anyone safe.
A knock on the rear window dragged him from his thoughts. Turning, he saw one of the brothers motioning for them to open the back window. Jonah was surprised to see they both appeared human again. He knew different now and was puzzled over how to cope with that knowledge. Pushing it down for now, he opened the window.
“We need clothes,” Cade said while popping his neck.
“Uh, Uncle Cade, you do know it’s like eleven o’clock? I’m not sure where you’re gonna get clothes around here,” James said. “It’s not like there’s a Walmart in the area, and if anyone saw the truck, our boys in blue will be on the lookout for it. At this point, I’m not even sure where I’m driving to. We can’t go home. They’re evacuating, and Dad will call us with a plan later.”
“We can go to my place,” Jonah offered stoically. Remembering the brothers’ human height wasn’t much off from his own, he added, “I probably have some clothes that will work.”
Shifting in the front seat, Tracy turned to Cade. “Delphene says the demons have been on your trail for some time. Any theories?”
“Selena said they followed my pain. I don’t know what it means yet,” Cade offered.
“They’re demons. Theories are worthless,” Jarrett said snidely. “The better question is, who sent them?”
“We’re hunting Victor. We must have gotten close enough to worry him. He’s a strategist, right?” Cade asked.
Still focusing on his flower, Jonah asked, “Will somebody tell me what’s going on?” They kept talking past his interruption, discussing a man named Victor and the merits of finding him.
Finally looking up, Jonah caught Tracy’s eye. He locked gazes with her and asked again, “What is going on? What am I doing here?”
Everyone in the truck stopped talking when they heard the confusion and pain in his voice.
Tracy tipped her face down to look at her hands and sighed with compassion. “Welcome to The Supernatural Brotherhood, Hall. It’s an exclusive club, no membership card required.” She met his intense gaze again. “It’s a place where you learn that legends like sorcerers and witches are real, demons prey on mankind, and at the center of it all, we fight to keep people safe.” She paused, thinking of Selena, and closed her eyes as she turned to face the windshield. “And sometimes, it’s a place where we can’t all come out alive.”
“Take us to the detective’s place, James,” Cade instructed kindly. "It seems we all need to figure out a few things before we decide what to do next."
The rest of the trip was awkwardly silent. The only talking after that was Jonah giving James his address. As a cop, Jonah regarded everyone in a very different light. Most of his thought realignment centered on Tracy. He attributed that focus to the fact that he’d spent the most time with her. He couldn’t help but wonder how she possibly maintained her, I’ll kick you in the groin if you piss me off, persona every day when she lit fires with a thought and shot sharp objects from her fingertips. Reconsidering, he decided it did fit.
In the store, Tracy had been confident and sure of herself. She enacted keen reflexes and a sharp mind throughout the entire ordeal, even saving him from death’s door. Now though, she was pale and drawn around the eyes, almost stretched in appearance. Leaning her head against the window and staring out into the night, her demeanor held a note of absence, as if her thoughts were drifting.
She was lost in a sea of emotional turmoil. Seeing her immediately after a traumatic event, Jonah was reminded she was still a woman. While strong, she was still soft, and though she was a fighter at heart, that heart could still break.
James on the other hand, was entirely centered on the task of driving, as if using the task as a distraction from deeper thought. His eyes were clear and his actions precise. Jonah recognized James hadn’t processed what happened, and he didn’t want to yet.
As for the other two…well Jonah wasn’t ready to think about all them. It was easier to pretend they weren’t there. It was only twenty minutes of personal deception, but a man on the verge of insanity had to take what he could get.
“I’ll uh, go make sure it’s clear,” Jonah offered as the truck pulled into one of the building’s visitor spaces and parked.
“Yeah, good idea, man,” James agreed as an afterthought.
“I’ll be back.”
James snorted.
Jonah regarded him with confusion and more than a little concern.
“Terminator? I’ll be back,” James said with his best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression. When Jonah said nothing, James waved it away. “Nevermind,” he said, missing Nate’s humor.
As Jonah opened the door, Tracy exited with him. “You shouldn’t go alone,” she said coolly before he could protest.
Jonah went to the back of the truck and saw to his chagrin, his hopes that it had been a dream had done him little good. Not only were the two brothers still in the back of the truck, but they had shifted into big black wolves. Both canine heads turned to stare at him simultaneously with tongues lolling. One of them, he wasn’t sure which, tilted his head as if questioning him. “We’re gonna—” Jonah began awkwardly. He shook his head as he realized he was talking to a dog. He turned back to Tracy. “Can they even understand me?”
A wolf growled and hopped out of the truck to go with them.
“I suppose that’s a yes.”
“They can understand you fine but can’t talk in this form,” Tracy explained.
As they moved to the stairs together, he looked over his shoulder. “I suppose as dogs they are a little less inconspicuous than two naked and bleeding men.”
Tracy smiled at him. “Now you’re catching on, Detective.”
Each of them watched for glowing eyes hiding within the dark corners and listened intently for any noise that didn’t belong. Five minutes later, Jonah came into sight and gave the all clear. Without waiting to see
if they followed, he headed back up to his apartment.
As they came in, Jonah saw Tracy out on the balcony. Instead of going to her right away, he turned to James. “Bandages and first aid supplies are in the bathroom down the hall. Use what you need.”
“Thanks man,” James said and left to take him up on the offer.
Jonah awkwardly addressed the pair of black wolves next. “Um, you’re welcome to use what I have in the bedroom. There’s bound to be something there that works. For clothes I mean. Help yourselves, I guess. Y’all can use the shower too if you need to.
He could only shake his head as one of the wolves nodded in assent before they both padded to the room at the end of the hall. Glancing toward the sliding door, he saw Tracy outside again and went out to join her.
“They’re all cleaning up, you could take a turn too. James has the first aid kit.”
“Okay,” she said without turning to face him. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right in.”
Hearing the hitch in her voice, he came up behind her and caught her wiping away tears.
Jonah turned Tracy to face him. He assessed her red eyes, damp cheeks, and heard the sniffle she pulled in to stem the flow. “No, come on now. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
He gently reached out and wiped a new tear on her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it.” She sniffed indignantly. “I can’t—”
“Come here,” he encouraged, pulling her gently to him.
She fell into him, and he tucked her head against his chest, rubbing her arm and back as she let go and cried.
“I just need a minute,” she muttered against him.
“You’ve got it. Take all the time you need.”
Wearing some of Jonah’s clothes now, Jarrett came to the open balcony door and found them wrapped together. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like we’re doing?” Jonah retorted. “Give us a minute, will ya?”
“Suck it up, Tracy. We don’t have time for this.”
Using what was left of her waning power, Tracy slammed the door in Jarrett’s face.
“Well that’s handy,” Jonah observed, and Tracy snickered a little.
Sniffling again, she pulled away. Using her sleeve, she dried the remaining tears and took a stabilizing breath. With red, puffy eyes she apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not so—”
“I know what you are,” he interjected before she could finish. “Anyway, don’t be sorry. I thought about breaking down myself, but I decided I’ll save mine for the psychiatrist. I figure we’ll have to have something to talk about when I’m locked up in the loony bin.”
Another small laugh escaped, and this time, the smile reached her eyes. The sight of it warmed him. He couldn’t explain why seeing her sea-green eyes darkened with vulnerability and pain tugged at his heart. He felt the strongest urge to fix everything so he wouldn’t have to see that lost expression anymore.
She wiped at the blood on his shirt, it mixed with her tears, and when it changed nothing, she turned away from the sight. Resting her hands on the railing and closing her eyes, she inhaled the night air.
“You gonna be okay?”
She nodded without opening her eyes.
He shifted next to her and leaned forward over the railing to look at the ground three stories below. For a few minutes, they said nothing. Both needed the quiet as much as they needed each other’s company.
After she was more composed, Tracy looked at him again. “You?”
“Well, let’s see… I’m alive, and that’s a bit of surprise. So yeah, I guess I’m okay. As for my mental health, I suppose you’ll have to decide for me since I haven’t processed it all. Anyway, how’d I do in my first real live version of Resident Evil?”
“Well, you’re alive, and that’s a surprise,” she repeated with a smile.
“Thanks.”
Her smile faded. “Honestly, I can’t tell you since it was my first time too.”
Jonah leveled his eyes on her, surprised. “What?”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve dealt with the odd demon here and there, but nothing on a scale like this. My parents and Uncle Cade have done a good job at keeping us, my siblings and me, away from it.”
“What about Jarrett?”
She looked back at the door. “He’s new to the equation. Jarrett’s complicated.”
“I never would have guessed you were a novice. You were so confident and sure of yourself.”
“Sometimes it seems like I’ve known about demons since before I could talk. According to my parents, I’ve been accessing my power at least that long. I guess it’s in the blood.”
He nodded in understanding, or at least he was trying to.
“You’re not the weak link though,” Tracy admitted. “I should’ve given you more credit. You saved my brother. When you had the chance to run, you stayed. It means a lot.”
“Don’t paint me as a hero. I was still in shock. Running hadn’t occurred to me yet.”
“And it never would have. It’s not in you to give up. Otherwise, you would have put this case to bed and left things alone a long time ago.”
“I just wanted—” he began, but couldn’t find the words.
She met his eyes. “You wanted to protect the victims, to help make a wrong right. I get it, more than you know. Problem is, I’m learning that sometimes not even my power can make things right every time.”
“Jeffery Garrison, it was a demon—not a drug dealer.” Jonah stated.
“Yes and no,” she admitted quietly. “A demon killed him, but it was led by someone else. There was a battle, and the demon was going for my mom. She would have died that day, but Jeffery… Well, he was there instead. Right after he’d turned his life around too.”
“Were you… Did you see?”
She was already shaking her head. “No.”
“But you know what happened?”
“Yes.”
“Someone else?” he questioned.
“It’s complicated. We’re still not really sure.”
Jonah saw new tears forming and changed tactics. “What are you?”
Still a detective, she thought. He needed facts and was clever enough to know how to obtain them. Resigned, she gave in, knowing there was no point in hiding any information now. He’d either accept her and what was happening, or he wouldn’t. “I’m a witch; my sister and my mother are too. We all have different strengths in magic use.”
“Okay, I’m gonna try to wrap my mind around the fact that I’ve entered the Twilight Zone and pretend I’m totally fine with it. Can I ask you a few more questions?”
She nodded.
“What do you mean by strengths?”
As a reflex, she hesitated opening up to him, but considering his actions at the shop, she chose to trust him with all of it. “I’m strongest in elemental magic. My mother does better with conjuration, and Ashley, she’s empathic. My mom also suspects Ashley has some strong healing magic, and that’s why she gravitated toward a medical field. That’s never been proven though. Ashley’s a little timid about the art of witchcraft. Anyway, we all brew potions and salves, and we cast spells. There’s a rule, though, that we do no harm to innocent people.”
“Your dad, what about him?”
“He’s a lawyer, and before you ask, James is normal too. If you don’t count how smart he is, anyway. We all know how to fight. Uncle Cade made sure of that. It seems that’s been ingrained in us since we could walk.”
“Jeffery? What was he?”
“He was a rarity. Jeffery was a sorcerer. There aren’t many that could match his natural skill either,” she said, lifting her shoulder. “Or so my dad told me.”
Confused, Jonah’s brows drew in. “What’s the difference between him and you? Gender?”
“No,” she replied with a laugh. “Jeffery was able to tap right into currents of magic that exist in the earth. He cou
ld feel or sense the mystic strands and then pull them forward. He used his body and sheer will to command those currents and manipulate them however he wanted. I don’t know all the rules there, or even if there are any. Jeffery was sort of like a prodigy. He simply knew what he wanted and did it. Uncle Cade told me that Jeffery made an opposing sorcerer disappear with a clap of his hands, and even he couldn’t explain it. The more he used magic, the easier it would have become.
“My gifts are passed down through blood, and gender is not a factor. Even though James hasn’t shown signs of magic, many witches have been men in our family. Tracing the family line for a witch is fairly easy, but sorcerers are random and rarely related. If there is any family connection it is three or more generations back. For a witch, our talents differ from person to person, but each of us must practice the gift and learn to use it or risk losing it. Magical talent sort of withers if we ignore it. I think it does that so we have the choice to be what we are, but we’re never prisoners to the gift.”
“I guess that’s as good a theory as any other,” he replied.
“The only exception to that theory are the four powers of influence. I never met a witch that could close those abilities off.”
“What're those?”
Tracy faced him more fully. “Some witches, like Ashley, have rare gifts like empathy—the ability to sense emotion, or telepathy—the power to read thoughts. A select few are gifted with projection. With it you can influence thoughts and emotions. Some have precognition and catch glimpses of the future.”
“Got it, powers of influence.”
“Most people think witches are evil, and stories make us out to be cruel, cackling old women. And don’t forget the green skin.”
“I was wondering if you were just hiding the green skin under your makeup, kinda like reverse Halloween,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes. “Jarrett told me that misuse of magic can ruin your body, kinda like drugs do. Maybe that’s where those legends came from, but actually, there are books and lost stories that teach that witches are good. Egyptian legends tell us that those with magical abilities were thought to be blessed by the gods. Norse legends believed much the same. Native Americans had shamans and seers too. The list goes on, but my favorite story about witches is the one my Grandma Essie used to tell.”
The Truth of Victory: A Powers of Influence Novel Page 22