The Templar's Legacy (Ancient Enemy)

by VanKirk, R. Scott

  “Great.” Now I was at a loss. I’d never gotten this far before.

  She made it easy. “Shall we go?”

  “Oh, right!” Grateful dork relief washed over me, and together, we walked out. I opened the door of the manor for her and followed. Her tight (heart shaped!) derriere sashaying away speared my attention and reeled me in. She glanced over her shoulder at me, and I ripped my eyes back to her face in panic.

  “It is beautiful today, no?”

  I swallowed and hurried to her side. “Uh yeah, nice day.” I didn’t want her to think I was a jerk, so I vowed only to look at her face. It didn’t seem like it should be hard, after all, she had beautiful brown eyes, a pretty, heart-shaped face, and expressive lips. I was wrong. It was nearly impossible for me to keep my eyes where they belonged. The moment I let my guard down, I’d find myself staring at various parts of her slender, yet shapely, figure. Spring’s mocking was no help whatsoever, but Colette made it very easy on me. She kept up a chatter of small talk and ignored any nervousness or impropriety on my part. Soon, I found myself relaxing and chatting back. Miracles do happen.

  ***

  We sat down with our plates stocked from Frankies lunch buffet. I was a little self-conscious when I saw she’d only taken one slice of pizza. I tried not to grimace as I looked down at the four large slices piled on my plate. I didn’t need to worry. She didn’t even look at my plate. She just put her hand around the cross at the end of the necklace she wore, bowed her head in prayer, and then crossed herself. I’d never actually seen somebody cross themselves except in the movies. Being from a family of (lax) protestants, we didn’t do that. I wondered if that would be another strike against me in her eyes.

  In addition to being a goofy, love-starved teenager? added Spring.

  Yeah that, too. Now, please leave me alone so I don’t look like an idiot, too?

  I could feel the reply to that behind Spring’s mirth, but she didn’t need to state it aloud.

  Spring retreated while Colette and I chatted over our lunch. It consisted mostly of her plying me for information about my life. During a pause in the conversation, I asked the question that I’d held in check from the first moment I saw her. “So, why did you come here?”

  “Eeu, I am learning the psychology, of course.” ‘Eeu’ is French for ‘um’, but a hell of a lot sexier. Her lips puckered slightly when she said it as if she were ready to give me a kiss. It was mesmerizing.

  Close your mouth, boy. You’re drooling.

  I shook my fantasies out of my brain.

  “No, I mean, why here? Why the middle of Ohio? There are a lot of places you could have gone besides our cloudy, little town.”

  She took a delicate bite of her pizza, chewed, and spoke around the small mouthful. “Oh, she is easy. I wanted to go to a place that was not like Paris. I was tired of the city and I’ve never been in Ohio. Dr. Anderson, he is a well known psychiatrist, and it will be good for my learning record to work with him.”

  “Oh, really? He’s well known?”

  She laughed and, with a toss of her head, dealt with a disobedient strand of her kinky brown hair. “Of course, if you did not know this, why are you here?”

  “Well, it kind of happened by accident.”

  “So what do you do with the doctor?”

  “Well... I’m... teaching meditation to some of his patients to see if it can help them.”

  “Oh, you practice the meditation? What type do you practice?”

  “Um...” I’d only ever heard of one type of meditation. “Transcendental Meditation?”

  “You follow the teachings of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi?”

  “Uh, yes, he’s very good.”

  He’s dead you know, said Spring.

  Crap, how do you know?

  I pay attention.

  “Finn, what is that you wear under your shirt?”

  The change of topic took me by gratified surprise. “This? Oh, it’s just a stick I found.”

  “A stick?”

  I pulled out my Caduceus from under the button-down shirt I wore to the clinic. It’s an ultra-hard, dense, black piece of driftwood about 4 inches long, roughly wedge shaped with the wide end flattened a bit and the other end narrowing to a wavy, uneven point. I’ve been told by the ghost of an ancient warrior priestess that it’s a piece of the Earth’s long-gone Tree of Life. She didn’t actually tell me what that was, or what had happened to it.

  Colette’s eyes grew larger, and she reached for it. “Oh, she is beautiful. May I hold her?”

  I shook my head and pulled back. I had no desire to explain any odd feelings she might get from it. “No, I, uh, I don’t like other people to touch it. It’s, uh... very special to me... I hope you don’t mind?”

  She gave me a momentary queer look and then waved my concern away. “It is nothing. Where did you get this stick?”

  “Oh, I found it near one of the Native American burial mounds here in Ohio.” Actually, “‘under,”‘ would be more accurate.

  “There are a lot of these mounds here?”

  I nodded. “And lots of Native American artifacts. What about yours, the cross you wear around your neck?”

  She looked down at the two-inch, ornate, silver cross hanging below the hollow of her throat and reflexively touched it. “This was given to me by my Mémèr. It was given to her by her Mémèr, and so on. It is very old.”

  “Cool.” I would have asked to see it if I hadn’t just rebuffed her request. Instead, I switched the subject to the old things I liked to collect. We went off into a conversation about the rich artifact hunting in the Ohio Valley. I’m good at finding things, and I have an extensive collection. I promised I would bring in some of the arrowheads and other things I had found. I probably would have promised to give her my whole collection if she’d asked.

  From our first conversation, I could tell that Colette was incredibly worldly and had traveled everywhere, yet she seemed genuinely interested in my life—even if I could only tell her about the boring, non-weird stuff. All in all, it was a very successful first date, even if it wasn’t really a date per se.

  After that first day, we made it a semi-regular event. Sometimes my friends or others from the clinic joined us, but my favorite times were when it was only the two of us.

  Colette was more physically demonstrative than anyone I knew. She didn’t shy from hugs or kisses. I thought it was enchanting, but I just put it down to her being French. She was 8 years older than me, so I didn’t let myself think there might be something more between us, but hey, I never claimed to be quick on my feet.

  I’m pleased to report that I nailed the whole double kiss thing. I can be taught—even if it doesn’t always stick.

  Colette made the whole working with shadows thing more bearable, and gave me something better to dream about at night than headless bodies and dead friends.

  Shady Business

  I was able to ward off one or more of the shadows when I was only ten, but none of my “students” at Shady Oak’s ever had any success. As you could see with Janice, it wasn’t for lack of trying. With each failure, Dr. Anderson leaned on me harder to try the direct approach again. The pressure on me peaked when, weeks later, Dr. Anderson called me at home at seven in the morning. My eyes kept crossing with the effort to keep them open when I took the call.

  “Finn, I need you here. Mr. Johnson is slipping away quickly. He’ll die soon if we can’t do something for him. The only thing that might help him is to have you pull the shadow off of him.”

  Ah, crap. Johnson was a thin, graying, sixty-ish shadow-ridden patient who’d been fighting pneumonia for the last several weeks. I didn’t really know him, but I had looked in on him a couple of times.

  A while back, Anderson had asked me to check and see if the shadow on him was somehow making Mr. Johnson’s pneumonia worse. All I could tell through my second sight, without actually touching him, was that a largish shadow rode him, and its oily darkness covered most of his pa
le blue aura. Just looking at it, I nearly peed my pants.

  Now, I stood with the phone to my ear trying to think of a way out. The doc didn’t have to spell out the options to me. I could try to take the shadow off of Mr. Johnson before he died, I could wait for him to die and deal with it then, or I could try to teach meditation to the next person it infested.

  While I contemplated what Anderson was asking, Spring had her own strong opinions. I know it’s bogus, but everything dies, Finn. Life doesn’t come with guarantees, and you are not responsible for saving everyone.

  I know, Spring, but I just keep thinking about what one of these things did to Holly. What if Johnson’s shadow finds another little girl when he dies?

  Dude, look on the bright side, it might attach itself to a little boy or an old man instead.

  Ha, ha, you very funny dryad. You know what I mean.

  Yeah, but you do know you have a personal white knight complex when it comes to women, right?

  Spring, I don’t want anyone to go through that nightmare.

  But it would be particularly horrendous if it were a little girl or a pretty woman...

  Oh, shut up.

  Being in my brain, Spring knew she’d hit it on the nose. I didn’t want to be someone who only thought little girls were worth saving, but for whatever reasons, the idea of a little girl or woman being touched by one of these things packed a more deeply visceral kick in the gut for me than if it were an old man.

  Anderson spoke into my silence. “Finn, are you still there?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry. It’s too early for me to be talking without a pot of coffee in me.” True, as far as it went.

  “Can you come in right away?”

  Oh god. I ran my hand over my suddenly sweating forehead. “Uh, yeah, I guess I have to.”

  You’re being an idiot.

  “I know this can’t be easy for you, Finn, but I don’t have anyone else who can do what you can do.”

  I took a shaky breath. “I know, Doc, I know.”

  “Good, I’ll see you in an hour.”

  “Well—” The phone went dead as he hung up. I slammed the phone down. “Sure thing, Dr. Asshole!”

  “Finn!” said my Mom from behind me.

  Oops, didn’t know she was listening. “Sorry, Mom. He’d didn’t hear me—he’d already hung up.”

  My mom’s look of stern disapproval didn’t waver. “Yes, but I heard it.”

  I hung my head—that sometimes worked on my mom. “Sorry, Mom.”

  “You’re forgiven. So, what did Dr. Anderson want?”

  “He needs me to come in this morning.”

  “Oh? Why so early? What’s the rush?”

  Uh oh. A direct question. I was hosed. I couldn’t lie to her, because her Finn-dar would spot it immediately.

  “Well...” I couldn’t think what to say. She didn’t know that I had actually worked directly with the shadows after my encounter with the one infesting Holly. My instinctive defenses had torn Holly’s aura apart and almost killed her. Mom knew about that encounter because she’d been there.

  Like everyone, except my dad and I, Mom hadn’t seen anything during that encounter with her eyes except the aftermath—Holly lying unconscious on a couch and me babbling about ripping her soul in two. It had sucked for everyone involved, and I hadn’t wanted to worry my parents any more. The last couple of months had been horrendous enough for them.

  As far as they knew, I was just trying to teach meditation to these patients. I’d never told them I’d pushed other shadows off their victims, or been ridden and controlled by Wendigota for a time after Gregg’s wake.

  While I searched for a story, I could practically hear the “beep-beep-beep” going off in her head. My mother lowered her brows and voice. “Finn... what’s going on?”

  The door to the garage opened and my dad came through, no doubt having just completed a delicious breakfast of live guinea pig.

  During the fight between Spring and my friends, while trying to save my dad's life, I’d accidentally turned him into a ghoul or something. It’s a long story, and I don’t want to repeat it here, but the short version is that the only thing that would sustain him was living flesh and the magic acorns that had grown when Spring was, uh, sexually harvesting me for her oak tree.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said.

  Maybe I was saved! “Oh, hi Dad!” I needed a distraction. “How was breakfast?” I was hoping my dad’s dietary requirements would shake Mom off the scent of my deception.

  That’s low, even for you.

  Hush, Spring...

  Dad beamed in unholy and unfathomable early morning cheer. “Excellent, thank you. What got you up so early?”

  Damn.

  My mom, unshaken, folded her arms and with her dangerous voice said, “I was just waiting to hear this myself.”

  My dad looked from my Mom to me. “Is there something I’m missing?”

  “I don’t know, Jack, Finn was just going to tell me all about it. Weren’t you Finn?”

  At least Spring was happy. Dude, you’re soooo busted. No way they’re gonna let you go. Be happy! This is a win-win for you Finn. If your parents stop you, you don’t have to feel guilty about it, and you won’t have to feel guilty about lying to them anymore.

  Spring please!

  “...weren’t you, Finn?”

  I rubbed my hand over my face. It came away wet from the sweat.

  Crap. Here goes. “Dr. Anderson wants me to pull the shadow off of a guy at Shady Oaks.” I rushed to get everything out before they could stop me. “He’s dying and Anderson thinks if I can pull the shadow off, it might save his life.”

  My dad put his hand on my shoulder. “Okay, but be careful Finn.”

  I looked at him in shock. What the..?

  My dad’s easy acceptance had blindsided Mom too. “Oh no, Jack. This is not going to happen. Finn almost killed Holly pulling that thing off her. What happens if he kills this man? What then? You know how Finn is. That would destroy him and then haunt him for the rest of his life. Not to mention what he’s going to do with the thing—hope it just lands on someone else? What if it attacks Finn? No, he’s not going to do it.”

  “Not going to do what, Mom?” Holly walked into the kitchen—just because things weren’t already a big enough fuster-cluck.

  My mom snapped at her. “Nothing that concerns you, Holly.”

  Holly visibly wilted under the heat of her new mom’s displeasure. Holly was better than she had been, but she was still a little uncertain about her new position in our family. My mother saw it, too.

  She immediately went and gave Holly a hug. “Oh, Holly, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You’re fine. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  While that was happening, my dad told her. “Dr. Anderson wants Finn to pull a shadow off of a sick man at Shady Oaks.”

  My mom looked betrayed, but Holly took it in stride, and her face grew serious. She’d been shadow-ridden, lived at Shady Oaks, and knew many of the other shadow-ridden patients. Holly met my eyes and said, “Mr. Johnson?” When I nodded, she said, “You should do it, Finn.”

  My mom took a half step back from Holly’s small form. “No Holly, I can’t let him do it. Where would he even put it if he were successful?

  “On the cow with the other ones.”

  Ah, fricking frack crap! The blood drained from my body into my feet.

  Mom was on me like the red on my face. “What other ones, Finn?”

  I squinched my face in shame and looked at the floor under my lowered brows. “I...uh...well, we..., er, I moved one of the shadows off of a patient and stuck it on a cow.”

  “You what? When were you going to tell me this?”

  “Um... Never?”

  “Finn, I can’t believe you’d go off and do something like this without telling us!” She was getting red, too. “Who was it?”

  “His name was Daniel.”

  “But he died, Finn,” added my Dad. />
  I gawked at him. “How did you know that?”

  “You went to his funeral.”

  Oh, right. It was the first time in weeks that I’d thought of Daniel, and the sudden flood of guilt threatened to crush me. How could I have forgotten what I’d done? The memory of that day crashed through me. How could I forget that? What kind of a monster was I?

  I started to hyperventilate. Spring was there immediately, soothing me, calming me. Finn, shhh. It’s okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. I’ve just been helping you think about other things, so you can get on with your life...

  What!?! Frack, Spring! You can’t do that!

  Sure, I can. It’s the same as I did when Wendigota had taken you. I kept you from remembering me or Gregg’s soul with some creative redirecting.

  I started to shake, and my dad’s strong hands grabbed me, supported me, and guided me to a chair at the kitchen table. Spring, that’s not right!

  You would rather suffer?

  “You killed a man trying to remove one of these demons from him, and you want to do it again?” said my mom.

  I shook my head weakly, “No Mom, it wasn’t like that.”

  She snapped. “This isn’t a game, Finn! What’s wrong with you?”

  That shot went right through to my heart. I just gaped at her and started drowning in the flood of guilt.

  Holly leaped between us and stood in front of me with her arms out protectively. Her strident little voice was filled with fear and tears. “Leave him alone! He didn’t mean to do it!” She became nearly hysterical. “He saved me, and the Senator, and Daniel. It wasn’t his fault Daniel died! The shadow made him do it! He saved me! He stopped it! You don’t know what it’s like! You leave him alone!”

  Holly turned, threw herself on my lap, and attempted to decapitate me with a fierce hug around my neck. She was shaking and crying, and I couldn’t breathe, nor could I bear to push her away.

  My dad came to my rescue again. He put his other hand on her shoulder. “Ssh, Holly, it’s okay. Nobody’s mad at what he did, but you have to let up on his neck because he’s turning purple.”

  Holly released me with a start and stared at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. My little sister’s concern about breaking me drove everything else out of my mind, and I laughed. I’ve noted before that I tend to laugh at wildly inappropriate times. It’s like I have a sorrow circuit breaker built into my brain.