The Devil You Know

by Richard Levesque

  “Because the women already think they know those men,” Tom said.

  She narrowed her eyes at him and smiled. “That’s exactly what I was going to say,” she said. “So now you’re a mind reader, too? Is there anything you don’t do well?”

  He shrugged. “Just have to keep trying me out on one thing and another till you find out.” They clinked their glasses together before he said, “So you don’t think the demons would have been as successful with different faces?”

  She raised an eyebrow and thought about it for a moment before saying, “The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. When you watch them on the screen, they’re perfect. Even when they do a bad thing, they do it for the right reasons or they end up repentant when it’s over. So if you’re lonely or bored or unhappily married, you love those men on the screen instead. And when you see one in real life, you’d rather take a chance on him than all the other…lotharios and sharks and kings of the casting couch.”

  “It’s like Little Red Riding Hood.”

  The comment caught Marie off guard and made her laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Just that,” she said. “Coming from you.”

  He chuckled with her, saying, “What? You think I never heard a fairy tale when I was a kid?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a smile. Then she sipped her wine and said, “Enlighten me.”

  “The story’s about staying on the path and not talking to strangers, right? Well, these girls…they all talked to strangers, let ‘em know they had something the strangers wanted.”

  “A basket of goodies.”

  “Call it what you want,” he said. “And then the stranger outsmarts them. Only he’s not dressed up as granny, but Clark Gable or Errol Flynn.”

  “And he eats a bit of her soul instead of swallowing her all up.” She nodded. “So does that make you and me the woodsmen?”

  “I hope so.”

  They laughed together, and Tom reached for her hand across the table. She looked into his eyes as he gently squeezed her hand. “What is it?” she asked.

  “Just worried.”

  “About me?”

  He nodded. “This whole thing…”

  “A little crazy?”

  “A lot crazy.”

  “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Not me. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then I’ll be fine.” His smile warmed her, and when he pulled her hand closer and kissed it lightly, she felt herself blush. “I promise.”

  He shrugged. “Promises…We can’t always make good on them, you know. Can’t count on things to work out the way we want.”

  “I know.” She thought of Ryan and Jasper and knew that Tom could name dozens of times when things had gone wrong during the war. “But I can count on you,” she said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then,” she said, now pulling his hand toward her and returning the kiss, “we count on each other. That’s a promise we can keep. Right?”

  He smiled, and the worry he had expressed earlier seemed to have eased. “Right,” he answered.

  Marie drained her glass. “In that case,” she said, “We should dance some more.”

  Tom’s answer was to empty his own glass and push his chair back. With an exaggerated wave toward the dance floor, he affected the air of an overly gallant gentleman. “My lady,” he said as he stood and guided her onto the floor.

  * * * * * * * *

  When they left the club, it was almost eleven, and Marie’s feet hurt from dancing. She was also tipsy for the first time in several years, and she was glad that Tom drove the car. On the way home, she scooted all the way over on the bench seat and wrapped her arm around his, holding it loosely so he could drive, and resting her head on his shoulder. A fog had rolled in while they had been at the Ambassador, and the lights of oncoming cars twinkled like stars as they headed back towards Hollywood. When “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree” came on the radio, Marie reached out and clicked it off.

  “Would you rather we go to my house?” she asked impulsively while the car idled at a red light.

  “How would I get home then?” he asked.

  “You wouldn’t have to.” She said it without raising her head from his shoulder, but she moved her eyes to see his reaction. He turned his head to the side to look down at her, and she was glad to see him smiling.

  “I think that’s the wine talking, Marie.”

  “The wine was fine,” she said with a sigh. “I think I may have some more in a cupboard.”

  “Pushy little thing, aren’t you?”

  The light turned green, and Tom put the car in gear.

  “You’ll need to come to my house anyway tomorrow before we start…you know.”

  “Our hunt?”

  “Let’s not talk about it tonight. We’ve talked enough about it.”

  “Fair enough,” Tom said. Then, after a few seconds, he said, “So it’s off of Melrose?”

  She let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched giggle and squeezed his arm even tighter.

  When they arrived at her house, she got out of the car and led the way through the little gate in the waist-high chain link fence that bordered her front yard. The fog was heavy here, and she could feel the mist on her face. Most of the other houses on the street had all of their lights off, and Marie’s was dark as well. By the time Tom had come around the front of her car, she had found her keys by touch in her purse. Holding them with one hand and, encircling Tom’s arm with the other, she led him up the two concrete steps and across her front porch.

  Tom held the screen while she unlocked the door. A dim shaft of light entered her front room from a hallway, and Tom said, “Did you leave that on?” There was an edge to his voice, and Marie realized he was worried someone might have broken in.

  “I always leave a little bedside lamp on when I know I’m going to be late,” she said reassuringly. “It’s for Murphy.”

  “Your cat?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She flipped on the lights in the front room and immediately noticed the picture of Ryan on the bookshelf by the window. For a moment, she thought of turning it face down, but then decided to leave it be.

  If Tom noticed it, he said nothing. “Can’t those things see in the dark?” he said instead.

  “Well, yes, but,” Marie said, a bit embarrassed, “Murphy’s special. Aren’t you Murphy?” She called out, but the cat did not come, so she led the way into her kitchen where an empty dish lay on the floor beside the stove. “He’s one hundred percent cat,” she said as she opened a cupboard and took out a box of cat food. She shook it before pouring some onto the plate, and in seconds the big orange tomcat came bounding out of the dark hallway that led to the little house’s bathroom and single bedroom. Marie bent down and petted the cat firmly as he ate, drawing her hand from his head all the way to the tip of his tail. “He always forgives me for being gone,” she added, looking up to see Tom’s amused expression. “But he gives me the cold shoulder if I leave him in the dark. Big baby.”

  She brushed cat hair from her fingers and stood up. It was difficult to squat and then stand in the tight dress, and she wobbled a bit on her heels before Tom reached out to steady her.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said with a smile. Then she turned back towards the cupboards. “You want me to find that wine?”

  “Sure. If you like.”

  Before long, they were on the sofa in the front room, two glasses and half a bottle of white wine on the little coffee table before them. Tom still had said nothing about Ryan’s photo, even though Marie was sure he had seen it. She appreciated his silence. They talked over a glass of wine about her house and her cat and her books. When Tom drained the last of his wine and set the empty glass on the table, Marie leaned forward and kissed him. She could taste the wine on his breath, and it warmed her. His hand came up to her cheek, and he held it
there, his touch making her tingle. Emboldened by the wine, she found herself wanting him desperately. He had turned toward her when she started kissing him, and now she pushed him back all the way onto the couch, her hand on his chest. Without letting her lips leave his, she climbed on top of him and wrapped her arms around him. She paid no mind to the dress as it hiked up around her legs. She pressed her body tightly against him, her heart racing; she wanted him badly and knew he felt the same, but after another few minutes he pulled his mouth away from hers and whispered, “Are you sure?”

  She almost blurted out, “Yes!” but then saw the real concern in his eyes. “Aren’t you?” she asked.

  He had not taken his hands from her hips, and she was ready to lean in and kiss him again, taking his silence as all the reply she needed. But then he smiled a bit sheepishly and said, “It’s just…I think this may be a bit of the wine working on you. I wouldn’t want for you to…”

  “Regret it?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “It’s not the wine,” she said. Then she smiled at him. “Or maybe a little.” Running a hand through his hair, she added, “I just need to…feel you tonight.”

  “Because tomorrow?”

  She nodded. “I’m scared.”

  “Then you don’t have to do it.”

  “No one else is going to.”

  “We’ll find another way.”

  “There is no other way.” Her voice broke, and she felt tears of frustration welling up. “Don’t you see? There is no other way. Your grandfather and I went over it and over it. This is the only way to stop them.”

  He nodded his understanding. “You’re right. But maybe…maybe you need someone to watch out for you right now. And doing this may not be the best way for me to do that.”

  Marie wiped tears from her eyes. “I know,” she said quietly. “I just don’t want to be alone. Not tonight.” Then she laughed lightly and added, “Murphy’s not such good company sometimes.”

  He smiled back at her. “Maybe I could stay the night on the couch?”

  “Would you?”

  “Sure. No one’s waiting up for me after all.”

  She climbed off him, feeling a bit embarrassed as she pulled the hem of the dress down. “Okay, so where did you park your white horse?”

  “Just over the hill. He’s waiting with the cavalry.”

  “That might be what we’ll need tomorrow,” she said.

  She let him hold her there on the couch for a long time, her head resting on his chest. Eventually, the wine that had helped weaken her inhibitions began to make her sleepy, and soon she left him and found the spare blankets and pillows in her hallway closet. She still trembled, but not from fear.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Marie awoke feeling embarrassed about what had gone on between them on the couch the night before. Peeking out her curtains, she saw that the fog from the night before had given way to overcast skies, befitting her mood. She dressed in her regular clothes, as though she were going to work, and left her bedroom to check on Tom. He was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast; he had found an issue of Weird Tales and was reading it with Murphy on his lap.

  Marie laughed. “That’s quite a picture.” She was grateful to have something to laugh at this morning.

  She made herself some breakfast, and they ate together. Then they got ready, and she drove him back to his house to gather the things they would need for later.

  “You’re sure about this,” he said as they got out of the car.

  “As sure as I can be,” she replied, knowing it was not the answer he had wanted to hear.

  They held hands as they walked to the front door. “You’re sure there’s not another way?” Tom asked once they were inside the house. “You can’t just do the exorcisms when you find them?”

  “You mean right there in a restaurant or at the counter in Schwab’s? Tom, what if it doesn’t work like that? We’re just going off Jasper’s best guess. We don’t know how strong these things have gotten. If I start praying over it in the street and it just runs away, then we’ve tipped our hand. They have to be subdued and then done away with. If not by one method, then another.”

  He looked at the floor and then ran his hands through his hair. “I know,” he finally said with a nod, and then repeated, “I know. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to me either. That’s why we’ll take precautions.”

  “Okay,” he said with resignation. “I’ll be right back.” He left her there for a few minutes, and she could hear him rummaging around in a back room. When he returned, he held a baseball bat, a small leather case, and a bottle of pills. He gave her the bottle, saying, “There’s enough Nembutal there to kill a horse.”

  “All right,” she said. The dress she wore had pockets at the hips, and she went to slip the bottle into one of them, but he stayed her hand.

  “What if we make a mistake, Marie?”

  “We won’t. How many people could look that much like Errol Flynn or Clark Gable?”

  “In a town full of stunt doubles and stand-ins? Plenty.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure before we do anything. They have a certain…irresistible charm. I’ll know it when I feel it.” He let go of her hand, and she put the pills away. Then she nodded toward the case. “What’s in there?”

  It was a small, black leather case the size of a shaving kit. He unzipped it and pulled out a black gun.

  “Tom!” she said. “You didn’t say anything about this.”

  “I’m sorry. I knew you wouldn’t like it.” He zipped the case closed again. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “During the war,” he said. “It’s a German Luger. I guess you could say I liberated it.”

  Marie nodded. “Did you…?”

  He did not answer right away, but then began speaking. “There was this little village in France. We thought the Nazis had all cleared out, but this one somehow got left behind. He was holed up in this abandoned house, and he blew a hole in my buddy’s throat when we were just walking down the street. Could’ve been me just as easily, you know?”

  Wide-eyed, she said, “What did you do?”

  “Took cover and tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no good. When the German fired again, I tossed a grenade. Blew the wall in, and I went in after. SOB was in the rubble with the gun still in his hand. I just picked it up without thinking about it. I was halfway back to headquarters before I realized I forgot to check if he was actually dead.”

  “Do you think he was?”

  He shrugged and shook his head, looking at the floor instead of at Marie. “Probably. Sometimes he’s in my nightmares. And he’s definitely not dead then.”

  Marie touched his hand gently. “I’m sorry I asked,” she said. Then she pointed to the leather pouch. “I don’t think we’re going to need it.”

  Tom was quiet for a moment before saying, “Colin Krebs told you an angry husband shot one of them, didn’t he? Well, if nothing else works, this will. They’re not that strong.”

  “But the demon just went back to Piedmont.”

  “Which is what’ll happen with us, too, if the exorcism doesn’t work,” Tom said.

  Marie knew he was right. There was nothing to do but try.

  * * * * * * * *

  By noon, most of the heavy marine layer had burned off, and by the time Marie found a place to park and walked to the courtyard of Grauman’s Chinese, the blue sky and bright sunshine made her feel as though she had chosen the right day to start killing demons. When she had gotten back to her house with Tom earlier, she had excused herself, shutting her bedroom door and laying out all the new clothes she had bought the day before. The underwear had come first, then the little wooden cross. Regardless of what else she chose, the cross had to remain, and anything that couldn’t conceal it would not be chosen. The little cross had
shown its worth at Laura Tremaine’s, and Marie was not about to be without it. It did feel a bit strange, though, to slip it on next to the lacy bra and then to complete the outfit, but there was nothing else to do. St. Lucy, her eyes gouged out by Roman soldiers, would have to understand, Marie thought.

  Putting on make-up and perfume, she thought of Elise and how much she would have loved helping her get ready; this made her even more determined to make the demons suffer. Her mother would have said she was tarting herself up, but Marie knew she wasn’t going too far with the make-up. Her goal was to look sexy and desirable but just a bit naïve as well. It was not unlike the way she had done herself up before meeting Ryan; putting on the new face felt like slipping into a version of herself she had once felt very comfortable with. She had known in her teens that she could make heads turn, and she was going to do it again today.

  By the time she was ready to leave the bedroom, she was wearing high black heels, silk stockings, a blue skirt that hugged her hips and knees, and a white sweater that was just tight enough. She also wore a smart little blue hat that matched the skirt. She felt both strange and excited to have Tom see her like this; the new clothes made her feel somehow like a different person. When he saw her come into the front room, he could only stare, and she could not help smiling at him and raising an eyebrow.

  “You like?” she asked.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said, shaking his head in appreciation.

  “Down, boy. You’ll get your chance.” She stepped up to him and had to force herself to give him only a quick kiss so she wouldn’t have to reapply her lipstick. “You’ll be here, right?”

  “Of course,” he said. “You can count on me.”

  “I know.”

  He put a hand on her wrist. “Marie,” he said, hesitation in his voice. “You’re sure about this? All of it?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure. Jasper got me ready. I know what to do now—as long as I’ve got you behind me.”

  “Not going anywhere.” She could tell that he was not completely pleased with the plan they had laid out, but he was also not protesting it.