“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks. His voice sounds guarded. Unfriendly. My heart twists. I knew that expecting him to understand what I do was a long shot, but still, I’m flooded with disappointment.
I swallow. “I was planning to,” I say. “I just … wasn’t sure how.”
He doesn’t ask me why I do it or who taught me. He doesn’t ask me if I’m okay or if I was scared back there. He just shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear it. “I, uh. I just need a minute to think,” he says.
Tears prick my eyes. His reaction is so much worse than I imagined it would be. I feel like all my organs are being squeezed. He is breaking my heart, and I’m just standing here, letting him do it.
So I turn and walk away. Spencer doesn’t try to stop me. I keep going, but I don’t let myself cry until I’m alone in my room, safely buried under the covers. I keep hoping that he’ll text me, tell me that he overreacted, that it’s no big deal. But he doesn’t. Because being an exorcist is a big deal.
A big, relationship-ending deal.
Chapter
17
UNCLE ROY doesn’t look up as I slink into the rectory. He’s bent over the leather-bound journal I gave him for Christmas last year, scribbling furiously with his fountain pen. I avoided him at church this morning—I knew he’d be mad that I skipped our training session—but I can’t avoid him forever.
“Hi,” I murmur. I’m still processing what happened with Spencer last night. I’d like to discuss it with Uncle Roy, but he doesn’t respond to my greeting and continues to write in his journal.
Yup, he’s mad.
Good thing I brought a peace offering. I set a bowl of black jellybeans in front of him. I had to pick through all the other jellybeans to get the black ones so he’d know I care. But he ignores it.
Crap. If he’s turning down sugar, it means he’s really angry.
I know he won’t be able to keep up the silent treatment for long. I just need to wait him out.
I page through a file, pretending to be interested in it, while he continues to write. Eventually, Uncle Roy clears his throat to indicate that he’s finally ready to deal with me. I glance at him and give him a sheepish smile. He sets his fountain pen down and gazes at me over the top of his glasses.
The best strategy is to throw myself on his mercy. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll remind him that the topic of his sermon this morning was forgiveness and that this, right here, is the perfect opportunity to practice what he preaches. So to speak.
“I’m sorry that I missed training yesterday,” I say. “But you’ll be pleased to hear that I finally finished that report you’ve been harassing me about—the one on the role of the layman exorcist in the fifteenth century.”
I pull the paper out of my bag with a flourish, stand up, and walk it over to him. As if I don’t get enough homework at school, Uncle Roy makes me write weekly seven-hundred-fifty-word reports on exorcism-related topics. Lucky for me, his aversion to computers means that he has not yet discovered Wikipedia.
He heaves a heavy, world-weary sigh. “Did you somehow forget that you had a commitment?” He doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his voice.
I frown. Seriously? I miss one day out of five whole months of training—hardly complaining about all the hours, all the stupid essays, about how practically every second of my spare time has been devoted to training with him—and he’s disappointed in me?
“I just needed a day off,” I say. “One day. And when I tell you where I was, you’ll—”
He holds up a hand to stop me. Then Uncle Roy slides off his glasses and begins to calmly polish them with the soft blue cloth he keeps in his pocket. “I’ve been thinking. Perhaps it’s best if we stop the lessons.”
“You mean take a break?” I say. I could get on board with taking a break. Maybe we can skip the training and get serious about finding my mom.
He shakes his head. “No. I mean stop them altogether.”
My heart drops. In a million years, this is not what I expected him to say. “Look, I’m sorry I skipped out on you, but there’s no reason we have to quit—”
“Shelby.” Uncle Roy gives me a tired smile, and he suddenly looks every one of his seventy-three years. “It’s time that we are honest with each other. It seems I’ve pushed you into this. It’s not fair of me to expect you to continue to work at something that you’re just not that interested in.”
“But—”
“No, it’s my fault,” he says gently. “I was so sure that this was your path, but I’ve come to realize that I was wrong. I may have had the best intentions, but I never should have insisted that you commit your future to something just because I felt you should do it. It wasn’t my place. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
His words sting. I mean, yeah, he has pushed me, and it’s true, I’m not sure that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life, but I am getting better at it. I know I am. And I like that he believes I could be great at it.
I don’t want him to stop believing in me.
Unless …
I narrow my eyes. “Wait. Is this, like, some kind of reverse psychology or something? You think that telling me I can’t train with you anymore will make me want to do it, right?”
Because it’s kind of working.
“No,” he says, putting his glasses back on and picking up his pen. “I meant every word. We’re done. You’re free.”
I don’t feel free. I feel mad. Mad that I’ve wasted five months, mad that he’s giving up on me, all because I missed one lousy session. Mad that I suck so hard at being an exorcist that he no longer wants to train me.
“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.” Uncle Roy turns his attention back to his journal, dismissing me.
“Fine,” I say. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.” I bend down and pick up Moo from her hiding spot under the desk. It’s a small consolation when Uncle Roy starts to sneeze. He’s still sneezing when I leave the office, slamming the door behind me.
Chapter
18
I HAVEN’T seen or heard from Spencer since last weekend, when he found out that I’m an exorcist. Yet I still went to the library yesterday for our study session, stupidly hoping he’d be there. But he didn’t show up, and obviously the only possible explanation is that he’s completely weirded out and no longer wants anything to do with me.
Since it appears that I no longer have study sessions—or training, which I totally regret skipping, because it was so not worth it—I suddenly have a lot of free time on my hands. I’ve spent every afternoon after school this week wandering around Seattle, partly to avoid going home, where things with Uncle Roy are superawkward, but also because I’ve been looking for my mom. I’ve restarted the search for her in all our favorite places. I feel guilty that I’ve let myself be distracted, that I haven’t been out pounding the pavement searching for her every day.
I go into a coffee shop we used to come to, but of course she’s not there. I mean, what did I expect? That the demon living inside her would be craving a hazelnut latte?
Even if my mom were here, I don’t know what I would do. It’s more than likely I would mess up her exorcism, the same way I messed up with Ms. C and the stranger on the Great Wheel.
The coffee shop is crowded. I don’t really want a drink, but I stand in line anyway, because being here makes me feel closer to my mom. It also makes me feel desperately lonely. I have never missed her more than I do right this second, which is saying a lot.
I swallow. My throat starts to ache, and I really hope I don’t embarrass myself by bawling in front of the barista. I’m debating whether to leave the line and just go home when I finally get a text from Spencer.
My heart leaps. Now that he’s had time to process, maybe he’s realized that me being an exorcist is not such a big deal after all.
He wants me to come to a rooftop garden downtown. I shoot him a quick reply to let him know I’ll
meet him. I’m not too far away, and it only takes me ten minutes to get to the building because I speed-walk the entire way.
It’s weird that he wants to meet in this particular building, because it’s one I’ve been in a million times before. My mom worked as a legal secretary in a practice just down the street—being an exorcist doesn’t exactly pay the bills, so she had to hold down another job—and I used to meet her in the garden for lunch during the summers sometimes.
I cross the marble lobby and take the elevator all the way up to the twenty-seventh floor. I spot Spencer as soon as the elevator doors slide open, and my heart doubles in speed. He’s standing at the railing, staring out toward the thin slice of Elliott Bay that’s visible through the surrounding buildings. He turns around when he hears me approach and gives me a small smile.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I fiddle with the zipper on my jacket. I glance around the garden—it’s been awhile since I’ve been up here, but it hasn’t changed. It’s a Garden of Eden in the middle of the city, all perfectly tended grass and trees, polished marble benches. Bright yellow and red tulips grow in big wooden tubs. We’re up so high, it feels like we’re above the clouds. It smells just like I remember it, too, like flowers and wind.
This afternoon, it’s just windy enough to keep the office workers inside. We’re alone, aside from a blond guy in aviator sunglasses sitting on one of the benches. Watching us.
Okay, that’s creepy.
Why is he staring at us?
Wait. I think it’s the guy from the party. The one who interrupted Spencer and me in the cabin. Lucas.
My stomach plummets. If Spencer brought his friend with him, this is not a date. I’ve totally misread this situation.
Lucas notices me noticing him. He gets up and saunters over to us, and the expression on his face is so serious that my hands start so shake.
What is going on?
“I thought you were going to give us a minute,” Spencer says to him, his voice hard.
“You’ve had plenty of time.” Lucas’s eyes are hidden behind mirrored lenses. He doesn’t crack a smile. “We need to get on with it.”
“Get on with what?” I ask, looking back and forth between them. It’s pretty clear from the cloud of tension hovering over them that they’re not on good terms. “Spencer. What’s going on?”
Spencer gazes out at the bay again, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Whatever he’s about to tell me is clearly not going to be something I want to hear.
“Just … let me explain before you react, okay?” he says, turning back to me.
He pushes up the sleeve of his windbreaker and unclips his antique silver watch, the one he always wears with the face turned to the inside of his wrist. He takes the watch off and shows me a Celtic knot tattoo hidden underneath.
“Okay, so you have a tattoo.” Big deal. His brother owns a tattoo shop, so it’s not exactly shocking. I reach out to run my finger over his wrist, but he pulls his hand away.
“That’s the thing. It’s not just a tattoo,” he says. “The important part is what it stands for: It’s a symbol of protection. Like the rune I made for you.”
My fingers fly to the polished stone hanging around my neck. He did mention that the rune was protection from evil spirits.
Lucas sighs. “What Spencer is trying to tell you, in his own convoluted way, is that we’re demon hunters.” He rolls up his sleeve and shows me the same Celtic knot tattooed on his forearm, only his is a lot larger.
I jerk back, like he’s slapped me. Demon hunter is just another name for exorcist.
Spencer’s an exorcist.
He shoots Lucas a dirty look. “I was getting to that.”
“Were you, though?” Lucas replies. “Cause it kinda seemed like you might chicken out. Again.”
A muscle in Spencer’s jaw ticks. “I told you, I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”
“You’ve had two months of right moments,” Lucas says.
They’re so involved with their bickering that they’ve forgotten all about me. Which is fine, because it gives me a moment to catch my breath and try to digest this news they’ve just dropped on me. My legs are shaking, so I walk over to a marble bench and sit down.
Spencer comes over and sits beside me. His knee starts to bounce up and down. “I wanted to tell you,” he says.
“Then why didn’t you?” He had the perfect opportunity on our date on Saturday, when he found out that I’m in the same line of work. He didn’t even try to stop me when I walked away. And then he didn’t contact me for days. Spencer knew how upset I was. He knew, but he didn’t tell me the truth. Just like Uncle Roy.
I move away from him.
“You took me by surprise,” he says. “I mean, I know your Uncle Roy’s an exorcist, and I know how your mom felt about keeping you away from the business—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, my entire body tensing. “You know my mom?”
“I’ve met her a few times.” Spencer starts to flush.
I stare at him, trying to make sense of the words that have just come out of his mouth. Spencer Callaghan has met my mom more than once. And yet he’s never mentioned this to me. Why?
“How much do you know about your mom’s … situation?” he asks.
“I know everything.”
“Then you know she’s not in Italy.”
“I know everything,” I repeat. “Now, why did you ask me to meet you here?”
“Because we need your help,” Lucas says, walking over to us. “I’m assuming Father Roy must have filled you in on what’s happened to Robin.”
I keep my expression purposefully blank. I don’t trust either of them, and I don’t want to volunteer any information about my mom until I know exactly how they want me to help them.
“Father Roy has been training her,” Spencer says to Lucas.
I inhale sharply. How does he know that?
Lucas stares at Spencer, dumbstruck. “And you didn’t think this was worth mentioning?” he asks. “This is literally the only bit of information you’ve gathered over the past two months that might have been any help to us.”
And there it is. The reason Spencer volunteered to tutor me, all those months ago. It wasn’t because he liked me, it was because he wanted to gather information about my mom.
I feel a layer of ice building up around my heart. Spencer doesn’t actually have feelings for me. He never cared about me—he’s been using me.
Spencer glares at Lucas. “Why do you have to be such a dick?”
“Because, Spencer, finding Robin is critical. It’s been our number-one priority for the past five months,” he says. “If you’d told Shelby ages ago, like I suggested, maybe we could have—”
“Luke. Shut up.” Spencer stands up, his hands balled into fists. He looks as if he’d like nothing more than to knock him out. I’ve never seen him so riled up, but then again, I guess I don’t really know Spencer. I only know the guy he was pretending to be.
I wrap my arms around myself. I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw up.
Spencer notices me shrinking away from him and gains control of himself. “Shelby, it’s not what it sounds like,” he says. “I mean—okay, at first that’s why I … but—”
“Just tell me how I can help,” I say to Lucas. I can’t even look at Spencer. I’ve been wasting my time on him when I should have been focusing all my attention on getting my mom back.
“Your mom’s been spotted in the area,” Lucas says. “We thought that if we brought you here, she might show up.”
“You thought,” Spencer says.
They’re using me as bait. This is the exact plan I’ve been pitching to Uncle Roy.
“Do you think she’ll show?” I ask.
Lucas holds up his phone. “I’m not picking up any demonic activity,” he says. “But it doesn’t mean the plan won’t work. We’ll try again somewhere else, assuming you’re up for it.”
“Your phone can tel
l you if there’s a demon nearby?”
“We use a demon-tracking app. Lucas developed it.” Spencer’s voice has a note of grudging respect.
“Yes, I’m amazing. A man of many talents,” Lucas says, tucking his phone into his pocket. “Why don’t you come back to the cabin with us. We can figure out a plan. We need to fill Mark in on this new development, anyway.”
“Mark is an exorcist, too?”
“He’s the head of our chapter,” Spencer says.
“There are hundreds of us, all over the world. And we’re just as good—if not better—than the majority of priests.” Lucas smiles. “Speaking of which, maybe you can convince Father Roy to join us at the cabin. He hasn’t been particularly cooperative, but he might listen to you,” he says. “You think he’d be more appreciative, considering we’re trying to fix his mistake.”
Clearly they know that my mom is the portal. And Uncle Roy obviously knows about this demon-hunting group, and yet he’s never mentioned them. Irritation surges through me. Another thing he’s kept secret from me.
“I can’t convince him of anything,” I say. “He doesn’t even want me involved. I’ve been searching for my mom on my own.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Spencer says, alarmed.
God, he sounds exactly like Uncle Roy.
I bristle. “Why? You have no idea what I can do.”
“No, but we’ve seen what Robin can do,” Lucas says. “We’ve spent the past few months working to undo the damage she’s inflicted. This is a huge mess, Shelby. If we don’t find her soon, the entire city is going to be overrun. As I’m sure you know, all she has to do is touch someone for longer than a minute or two and then they’re possessed. There’s no way you can handle a demon like that on your own.”
I scowl at him. This is worse than being lectured by Uncle Roy—and I didn’t think anything was worse than that.
The door opens, and a group of people come into the garden. Spencer takes it as our cue to leave and stands up. “Will you come with us to the cabin?” he asks. “Please.”
When Life Gives You Demons Page 11