Who By Water

by Victoria Raschke

  “And what do you believe was in that vessel?”

  “A demonic being. Most likely a revenge demon. Our modern sense of justice is external to ourselves, which makes us especially receptive to the false power they offer.”

  Leo let out a long, slow breath. He had only encountered one demon in his life, and it had taken three Witchfinders to re-imprison it. He had been nine and the sound the demon made in defeat haunted him still.

  His face must have betrayed his thoughts.

  “Yes. It is as bad as that.” Lichtenberg patted the bed. The gesture was condescending, but Leo sat down opposite his still repugnant but slightly less unwelcome guest. “Do you know who was possessed?”

  “No. I had hoped your niece could help us locate them, but a revenge demon’s aura is masked by its host’s aura.”

  Leo didn’t show how surprised he was that Lichtenberg knew about Vesna’s ability to see auras. “What other way can we find the demon?”

  “It will have to reveal itself. And its host has to be someone who was at the museum the night of the murder.”

  “That’s most of Ljubljana’s elite.”

  “Yes. But it also must be someone who knew both Helena and Maja.”

  “It narrows it down, but not by much. Helena knew everyone and Maja worked at some fancy bar on the river.”

  “That is true, but it won’t be a mere acquaintance. It will be someone closer, most likely someone also connected to Ms. Wiley. Ms. Belak was her lover. Ms. Demšar worked for her.” Lichtenberg’s distaste for Helena was clear, and he made no attempt to mask it when he said her name.

  “I’ll ask Vesna.”

  “Do. And please let me know what you learn.” Lichtenberg stood to leave.

  Leo let him cross almost to the door before he stood to let him out. There was something Lichtenberg wasn’t telling him. He could feel it in the air that crackled with animosity between them.

  Lichtenberg turned back. “Brother Kos, I know you and your family have little reason to like me, and the incident that brought us together gave me no cause to feel anything but distrust of you and your brother. I didn’t look for a reason to mend this relationship, but I see we have been presented with one. Jolene Wiley is something that has not been in the world for a very long time. We are both charged with protecting her and protecting others from her. Success in that endeavor will come much more easily if we are united in our work.”

  Leo took the extended olive branch, if only for Jo’s sake. “I agree. Shall we divide the work?”

  “Yes. I will explain the situation to Ms. Wiley. You seem to have a more receptive source at the museum. Will you try to find the doll?”

  Leo nodded. He opened the door. Lichtenberg extended his hand and Leo took it. It was the handshake not of friends, but of reluctant business partners. For now, that would have to be enough. Leo hoped it would be enough to prevent an unfettered revenge demon from wreaking havoc in the world.

  Chapter 17

  Jo sat silently in the passenger seat of Gregor’s car looking out the window at the flat open fields in the valley surrounding Ljubljana. The apple trees tucked into the neat gardens of the occasional house were heavy with fruit under a clear blue sky. In the distance the mountains rose up from the valley floor, blues and greens giving way to white-dusted peaks. She’d lived in this place for almost twenty-five years and its beauty still caught her off guard. Years ago she’d been to Škofja Loka a handful of times to take photographs for a project for university. It was one of the best-preserved walled cities in the country. The oldest part nestled against the river and the old, but not quite as old, part sat across the watery divide, both parts equally charming, as the butter-yellow plaster houses all over Slovenia always were. Škofja Loka always struck Jo as an especially good place to hole up.

  Gregor paused the car briefly before entering a roundabout. He continued to look out the windshield but spoke to her. “You seem far away.”

  “Not so very far. Thinking about how pretty this place is. Trying to remember the last time I’ve been to Škofja Loka. It seems like I hardly leave the city anymore.”

  “We all have our orbits. It’s just that when you leave town, you generally leave the country.”

  She laughed. “True.”

  “Something more though?”

  There was but she wouldn’t share it with him, not yet anyway. “Maybe.” She smoothed the fabric of her dress across her thighs and looked out the window. Her reflection flickered back at her in the glass as they passed a high row of dark vegetation along the side of the road. There was no denying how tired she looked.

  “I miss her.” She missed both Helena and Maja, but today was the day for mourning Helena. “Helena.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I didn’t expect to. Not like this.”

  He nodded. This was his way of keeping her talking when she was starting to pull back into her own thoughts.

  She resettled in the seat to look at him as she spoke. “We spent time together. Not a lot…well maybe…” There was that weekend in September when they didn’t leave Helena’s apartment for two days. “But we didn’t talk. Not about anything important.”

  “That sounds like Helena. But honestly, it sounds like you, too.”

  “What does that mean?” She bristled, surprised at how much his words stung.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. But you have a very developed system of ramparts in place to keep yourself from getting too close to people other than the handful you’ve trusted with the key to the portcullis.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to get to know people.”

  “That’s not what I said. You talk about books and art and music and politics but you don’t talk about personal things.”

  “I do. Milo had met you and he knew about Aunt Jackie and–”

  “Demographic information. Did you tell him about Faron’s father?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I think I’ve made my point.”

  She pulled herself up in the seat and glared at him. “I don’t see how.”

  He kept his eyes on the road. “Why did you and Milo, someone you knew intimately for almost a year and a half, never discuss your only child’s father?”

  “It never came up.”

  “Really? Milo seems more curious than that.”

  “He might have asked…” She twisted her hands in the fabric of her skirt.

  He had the sense not to say anything along the lines of “See” or “I told you so.” His being right was even more irritating because he was always above rubbing it in.

  “Still. I didn’t even know Helena had a brother.”

  “Did you ask her?”

  “No.”

  “Did she ask about your family?”

  “No. Not even Faron, whom she apparently knew quite well.” The terrain had changed into low rolling hills. They were close.

  “I wouldn’t beat yourself up too much. You might not let many people in, but the people you do, you’re fierce about.” He put his free hand over hers.

  “Thanks.”

  “Now. Where is Matjaž’s house?”

  Jo pulled up the map on her phone and played navigator.

  It was what she had expected, a traditional Slovenian house with enlarged windows and a wraparound deck that gave it a modern feel.

  As they entered the driveway, a young man dressed in a white shirt and black vest under a lightweight ski jacket held out his palm to stop them. Gregor rolled down his window.

  “Do you mind parking in the grass next to that blue car? I can park for you.” His skin was marked with the indignity of teenage acne on a twenty-something-year-old face.

  “I don’t mind, thank you.” Gregor pulled slowly onto the grass as the young man stepped away from the car. “A
re you ready for this?”

  “As ready as I am going to be.”

  Death was once an abstraction, a word, useful in referring to a vague projection of her own life’s end, or to the abruptly specific conclusion of her father’s. Death was now a daily companion. Quite literally, if Jackie was right about Maja’s new job as her spirit guide. The thought of it made her laugh.

  “I’m guessing you’re okay then.”

  “I don’t know if I’m okay or not, but I think I will be.” She opened the door and stepped into the grass outside the car. It wasn’t wet but the sod under the blades was still soft from the recent rains.

  Gregor stepped around the car and met her at the corner. He offered his arm and wrapped his warm hand around hers as she took it.

  “Your hands are like ice.” He squeezed her fingers.

  “Maybe I should have brought gloves. I just didn’t think it was that cold.”

  “It isn’t. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “Because my hands are cold? Yes. I’ll be fine.”

  She looked to the top of the stairs to the entrance to the house on the second level. Matjaž stood there. He was dressed in the same suit he’d worn the night of the murder. It was probably the only one he owned. He looked as quirkily attractive as before, but grief made him less animated as he greeted the mourners ahead of them.

  She watched her footing climbing the stairs, holding her dress up to keep from stepping on the hem. Matjaž’s relieved face greeted her at the top. That look of relief at her presence was puzzling.

  He took her hand as she stepped onto the deck. “I’m so glad you could come.”

  There it was. Her stomach fluttered and she could feel every hair on her body stand at rapt attention.

  “I cared for your sister. And I…there aren’t words to express my sorrow at your loss.” She looked away from his face, to his tie, to the decking, to their hands still locked together by his grip. His familiarity made it impossible to separate her feelings for the loss of Helena from her attraction to him.

  “She cared for you as well.” He held her hand for another moment before letting go to shake hands with Gregor.

  She waited while the two men exchanged greetings. Clearly, Helena had mentioned her to him. What had she said?

  She and Gregor walked inside to join the others and to greet an elderly woman who sat ramrod straight in a polished wheelchair just inside the door. She introduced herself to the people ahead of Jo and Gregor as Mrs. Belak, Helena and Matjaž’s mother. Jo offered her hand and Mrs. Belak held it in both of hers.

  “You must be Jo. You are not what I expected.”

  “Yes. Jo Wiley.” So this was where Helena and Matjaž got those green and amber eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am. What was it you expected?”

  “I expected you to be beautiful, given Matjaž’s description.”

  She guppied in response to that. Nothing quite like a verbal slap from your dead fuck-buddy’s mom to put you off your game.

  Gregor introduced himself to Mrs. Belak, giving Jo sufficient cover to collect herself and suppress a reply inappropriate for the setting and occasion. He ushered her to the next group of people standing silently in a circle a few more feet into the dark paneled room. The group included Igor. And Tomaž and Katarina. Jo considered going back to chat with the charming Mrs. Belak.

  Katarina extended her hand. “It’s good to see you again. Well, despite the circumstances.” Her expression was tight, as the circumstances warranted.

  Jo extended her hand and nodded stiffly. Her phone vibrated against her thigh. She put her hand in her pocket to quiet it, then realized that it wasn’t her phone. It was Leo’s stone and it was buzzing like a handful of bees. That could be the way it warned her evil was near. Maybe she had been right about Tomaž.

  “It’s been a difficult week for all of us. First Helena and then Maja.” Gregor put his arm around Jo’s shoulders and pulled her to him in a reassuring side hug.

  “Of course.” Tomaž nodded. He looked like he’d been pulled backward through a knot hole. His shirt was wrinkled and there were dark shadows under his bloodshot eyes. She caught herself staring at him.

  “Gregor, I think I need some air. I’m gonna…” Jo tapped his arm and gestured back to the door.

  Matjaž stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “It looks like everyone is here. Mother and I have a few words we’d like to say and then we’ll try to honor Helena’s wishes the best we can.”

  Frozen in her bid to escape, Jo faded back into the room and found a big window to stare out of. She could see the walls of the old town in the distance and she imagined throwing Tomaž into the river that ran between.

  Mrs. Belak cleared her throat as gracefully as one could. “Helena, my daughter, was a creature of her own making. I often asked myself if there had not been a mix-up at the hospital that sent me home with some other person’s headstrong offspring. The fact that she looked exactly like her asinine father indicated otherwise. It was her wish that we not have a funeral for her, but rather a party for her friends and what family she could stand. I am sure that means I am here only by Matjaž’s grace. In any case, it is a surprise to see that her friends were not all degenerates. Matjaž, I’m sure, will have more pleasant things to say about all of you and about her.” She waved a dismissive hand toward Matjaž, whose face had gone ashen, and she straightened the blanket across her lap.

  Jo had not looked directly in Mrs. Belak’s face the whole time she was talking, but now their gazes met. Mrs. Belak’s expression was difficult to parse, but overall it came off as equal parts disgust and intrigue at Jo’s continued presence. Jo had no idea what she’d done to provoke such rudeness, but never had she wanted so badly to pinch an old woman. Those were not pleasing thoughts.

  Matjaž pulled at his tie and moved deeper into the room in front of the windows. His face was hidden in shadow by the late afternoon light filtering through the glass behind him.

  “Yes… um… At our father’s funeral many years ago, Helena made me promise that if she died first, I would do everything in my power to avoid, in her words, a dreary send off. A party, she said, would be a better way to mark the end of her life. I’m sure she had no idea how difficult that would be given the circumstances.” He paused and looked down briefly before continuing. “Given the circumstance of her death.” His voice cracked with the unmistakably strain of trying not to cry in a public setting.

  Another woman stepped forward to stand next to him and took his hand. She looked so much like Helena she had to be a cousin.

  “Thank you all for coming and, whether you knew it or not, helping us to honor Helena’s life in the way she would have wished.”

  The Helena look-alike stepped further into the room and clasped her hands together in front of herself. “There’s champagne and food. Please enjoy yourselves and tell each other your best stories about Helena. She will be deeply missed.”

  At her word a trio of black-tie servers emerged from the kitchen door behind Jo and dispersed into the crowd of thirty or so in the living room bearing trays of champagne flutes filled with rosé champagne, Helena’s favorite.

  Jo took advantage of the distraction to duck outside. She still had her coat on and she rooted around in her pockets uselessly for the forgotten gloves as she crossed to the railing of the deck. Even at this distance, she could hear the Sora course over the spillway below the wall of the old city. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to find the peace this place could offer.

  Footsteps on the deck brought her back to the moment. Matjaž stood next to her looking out at the distant castle hill above the walls of the town. “I’m sorry about my mother. Polona, my cousin, said you had a tense interaction with her when you arrived…then she was kind of an ass to everyone after that.”

  She shrugged. “I know what mothers can be like sometim
es.”

  “I’m afraid with Mother, it’s all the time. At least since my father died. He must have been the softening force. She wasn’t always like that.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jo turned to look at him. His eyes were shadowed with loss of sleep or just simple grief. His suit was either making him itch or he was nervous speaking to her.

  “Don’t be sorry. It is what it is. I came out here to check on you.”

  “I’m fine. I just needed some air. We’re supposed to be here for you today.” She resisted the urge to rub his arm or take his hand or touch him in some way that was too familiar.

  “And you. I know you were seeing her. I didn’t put it together until later. She never told me your family name, just that you were American.”

  “I didn’t realize she thought enough of that to discuss it with anyone. I mean she was seeing other people, too.” She cringed a little. “Not that anything’s wrong with that. I mean, I’m hardly…”

  “No. I know what you meant. Helena was never one for romance or attachment. I think you were a puzzle to her.”

  “She didn’t know the half of it. I’m a puzzle to myself these days.” Jo sighed and leaned into the railing.

  “For whatever it’s worth to you, she was also intrigued by you.” He turned to face her, leaning against the railing.

  “It means something.” Tears caught her by surprise but she kept her composure on his account.

  “I should get back inside. Don’t stay out here too long.” He turned to walk away.

  She turned and caught the edge of his jacket sleeve. “Matjaž, wait. Helena’s okay, you know.”

  “What?” He stiffened. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe in all that ‘better place’ nonsense.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what happens after exactly either, but I know she’s okay.” She must sound crazy. “I mean. I can feel it, that she’s…not at peace, exactly, but…”

  “If that comforts you, I’m glad for you, but my sister was murdered. She was violently removed from her life and I can’t believe she’d be okay with that.” He walked away from her and back inside.