Ghost of a Summoning

by J E McDonald

  “How did you do it?” she asked. “How did you get over them?” Maybe he could let her in on the secret, because she’d been having them ever since she was eighteen.

  He hesitated before answering. “I got angry,” he said. “And stopped caring whether I lived or died.”

  Aubrey’s chest tightened, and she pressed a hand to her breastbone to ease the hurt. “That’s so sad,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his hard features. What kind of life did he lead if he didn’t care if he lived or died? “I care,” she said, the words out before she could think.

  His gloved hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he didn’t respond.

  Why was he always wearing those gloves? He’d taken one off to touch her face earlier. He’d taken it off yesterday to shake hands with Cole the night before. His hands weren’t hideous, needing to be hidden away from sight.

  In fact, they were very attractive hands. His fingers were strong and sure. They’d been gentle on her face when he’d cupped her cheek. They’d made her shiver when they’d combed through her hair, gripping her scalp. They’d made her heat up when he’d stroked her body. Why was he hiding them away?

  The city limits appeared in the distance. They were almost home. The thought should have relaxed her some, but instead she only had more worries.

  “We should probably call the police,” she said, “fill out a report about what happened.” Not that she had any details to give them. She hadn’t seen the make of the car. It had all happened so fast, she didn’t remember much of anything besides the deafening sounds and her teeth rattling in her head from the jarring impacts.

  Roman didn’t respond to her statement, instead asking, “Where do you live?” They neared the first sign announcing an exit.

  She gave him the address, and he took the second exit to the east side of town. He seemed to know Wickwood well, and she didn’t need to give him further directions.

  “Did you grow up here?” she asked when they took the last turn to her street, Willowpark Lane.

  “Yes,” he replied, slowing for a pedestrian, then continuing on.

  When she saw a black SUV parked in front of the house, she let out a relieved breath. “Oh good, Lucas is here. He’ll know what to do about reporting it to the police. You can pull into the driveway.”

  When he’d put the Civic in park beside Stella’s red Miata, she jumped out, very glad to be out of the vehicle. She winced at the close-up view of the cracked bumper and broken taillight, thinking of the bills it would take to fix both.

  But it could have been much, much worse.

  Roman shut his door and held out the keys to her. “Are you going to be okay?”

  Surprisingly, most of the panic she’d felt earlier was gone, replaced with the sick knowledge that someone had tried to do them harm. She was more angry about it than panicked, but her fingers hadn’t stopped shaking—even to take her keys from him.

  She nodded to cover her embarrassment. “Yeah. I’m going to be fine. Thanks for—” She stopped, not even sure how to express how grateful she’d been for his presence today. What would have happened if she’d been on her own? “Thanks for everything.”

  With one nod, he turned away, like he was just going to leave. A new kind of panic bloomed in her chest. “Please stay,” she said before he could get far, wincing at how desperate she sounded.

  He paused but didn’t turn around.

  “I mean,” she went on like that hadn’t been close to begging. “Maybe you could stay for a coffee or something? Maybe talk to Lucas with me about what happened?”

  She couldn’t really explain why she wanted him to stay and knew Stella wouldn’t want him to. Aubrey didn’t want to cause her friend discomfort, she really didn’t, but she also didn’t want Roman to go right now. He’d calmed her and helped her, and she craved more of his presence.

  “Will you stay?” she asked when he still hadn’t turned around. “Just for a little while?”

  Finally, he faced her. “All right.”

  She couldn’t stop her smile. “Great,” she said, heading to the front door. “Do you drink coffee? Tea? I can probably scrounge up some snacks too if you’re hungry.”

  18

  Roman followed Aubrey up the front steps, her questions about his beverage preferences continuing until she opened the front door.

  He shouldn’t be doing this. What he really wanted, needed, to do was figure out who had run them off the road and why. If he went back to the scene, he could see if anything had fallen off the other person’s car to identify the vehicle. The last thing he should do was linger at her house for tea and cakes.

  Instead, he followed Aubrey inside the cream-colored house. His feet froze as soon as he stepped in the foyer. Stella was there. She stood in the living room next to the couch, paralyzed mid-step, like she’d known who was at the door before Aubrey had opened it.

  This was a bigger mistake than he realized. He should have known the roommate Aubrey talked about earlier was none other than her best friend, should have clued in that the red Miata in the driveway was hers.

  The man on the couch stood too, the cop who’d come into the store every day he’d been working. The one who told him he’d missed a spot when he’d been washing the front windows. He wasn’t smiling now, a concerned expression on his face as he stared at the witch.

  Stella whispered a spell under her breath.

  Why had Aubrey invited him in when Stella was there? She should have known better. Instead, she breezed into the room like nothing was the matter. Her next words clashed with her carefree demeanor. “Can we all get along for a few minutes?” She dropped her messenger bag on a side table beside a plant stand. “I’ve invited Roman for coffee, and we need to talk to you about something, Lucas.”

  “What’s wrong?” Stella asked, her focus shifting as Aubrey moved on through the kitchen. After a second, she followed.

  Since the door was still open, Roman took another step inside and closed it behind him. When he turned around, Stella’s boyfriend stood right in front of him, blocking his way. With the posture of a bouncer holding a grudge, he crossed his arms, his biceps bulging out of his T-shirt.

  “We’ve never been properly introduced,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Lucas Martinez.”

  “Martinez,” Roman repeated. “I don’t suppose you have family in town?” Needing to know more about the man who seemed to spend a lot of time around both women, Roman took off his glove to shake.

  Lucas’s soul came at him bright and untainted. A good person. Aubrey kept good company.

  “I might.” The man dropped his hand. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting some of them?”

  While Roman put his glove back on, he thought of his encounters with the persistent Agent Martinez. “I might have. Does law enforcement run in your family?”

  “It might,” the other man replied, speculation entering his eyes. “Which side of the law were you on when you met them?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it really does.”

  They sized each other up. Roman felt the weight of the knives under his jacket press against him. He had no doubt the off-duty cop was armed too.

  “I take Stella’s opinions very seriously,” Lucas said. The sounds of the women moving about in the kitchen only broke some of the tension.

  “I can see that.” He would have assumed Stella relayed what she thought about him to her cop boyfriend, but it was what she said that interested Roman the most. Had she commented on the darkness of his soul? How far did her talents go?

  But he would never ask her to confirm his suspicions. “Am I allowed to enter the house?” Roman asked. “Or am I going to stand in the foyer for the entire visit?” This Martinez was turning out to be as annoying as the other one. Had to be family. Brothers? They didn’t look much alike.

  “Still deciding,” Lucas said, his eyes intent.

  They were interrupted by the two women returning. Aubrey held a
tray with a full pot of coffee next to a cream pitcher and sugar bowl, a plate of cookies beside that.

  “Oh, leave him alone, Lucas.” Aubrey set the tray on a side table beside the couch. “If it weren’t for Roman, I might not be standing here right now.” She swallowed, meeting his eyes briefly before pouring coffee into four mismatched mugs.

  “I knew something bad had happened when you walked inside,” Stella said, her focus entirely on Aubrey. “Why won’t you tell me?” She held a bowl in her hand, filled with balls of dried greenery.

  “I didn’t want to say it twice,” Aubrey said, passing Stella a mug. “Come. Have some cookies.” She glanced at Roman. “They aren’t homemade, but they’re one of my favorites. How do you take your coffee? Cream or sugar?”

  Lucas still hadn’t backed off, but when Roman stepped around him, he didn’t intervene. “Both,” he said to Aubrey, walking toward her. The house wasn’t big, but it felt airy. Plants filled the front bay window and the pass-through to the kitchen. A faded couch with two end tables on the sides were positioned opposite two well-worn leather recliners. Between them, a TV sat atop an antique cabinet.

  Aubrey gave him a small smile before fixing his drink. Taking the mug she offered, he moved to one of the worn recliners. As soon as he sat down, a gray cat jumped up on his lap. He had to hold his coffee away from his body so it wouldn’t spill. The cat walked around on his thighs. He wasn’t sure what it wanted until it sat down, curling in on itself like Moe did. Once settled, Roman leaned back, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the heavily purring feline.

  He patted him on his head, aware of everyone staring at him. Why was a cat sitting on him so fascinating?

  “I’ve never seen Loki do that before,” Stella said quietly, still standing.

  “Me either,” Aubrey agreed. “Usually he runs away and hides when someone new visits. Maybe it’s because Roman is an animal lover. He has a dog.” She turned to where Lucas stood beside Stella. “Hey, maybe your dogs could have a play date or something.”

  Roman choked on his coffee at the suggestion, then recovered as quickly as he could before anyone asked for clarification. The idea of Moe and a dog having a play date…the disastrous meeting would end with Moe licking his lips in satisfaction. But Aubrey’s efforts to have everyone get along made something swell in his chest. Unfortunately, with both Stella and her boyfriend looking at him like they expected him to do murder in the near future, the possibility was highly unlikely.

  Giving herself a shake, Stella took a lighter out of her pocket and lit the greenery in the bowl. A cloud of smoke billowed upward, and the scent of sage filled the space between them.

  “Is that necessary?” Aubrey asked, her expression tight.

  “Yes,” Stella replied, setting the smoking bowl on the side table. Then she sat down on the couch and Lucas joined her.

  That left the other recliner for Aubrey. She sat on the edge, her spine straight, her mug gripped between both hands.

  “Tell us what happened,” Stella said after a minute, her eyes darting between the two of them. “We’re both listening now.”

  Aubrey took a deep breath. “When we were driving back from the estate sale, someone hit us and ran us off the road.”

  “What?” Coffee spilled over the edge of her mug as Stella shot to her feet. “What do you mean you were run off the road?”

  Setting aside his coffee mug, Lucas dug a notebook out of his pocket. His demeanor changed, becoming all business. “When did this happen?”

  Aubrey rubbed her temple. “I’m not sure of the time, maybe an hour ago?”

  “Nine fifty,” Roman said, taking over the conversation.

  Lucas nodded to him, jotting it down. “Make and model of the vehicle?”

  “White van, Dodge,” he said, giving the cat in his lap another stroke. “Didn’t see the license plate number.” And he was still kicking himself for it.

  “Where were you?”

  “About fifteen kilometers south of town on Highway 27. You’ll see the skid marks from where we went off and the tire tracks where I drove the car out of the ditch.”

  He needed to head back there before any evidence was destroyed by motorists. It was probably already too late. He should have combed the area immediately after it happened, but he’d been focused on Aubrey.

  “We’d also just been to an estate sale and the dude there seemed…agitated.” He gave Lucas the address of the farmhouse too.

  “You don’t think—” Aubrey stopped talking and stared at him, her brow pinched. Then she shook her head, disbelief in her gaze.

  Right now, he wasn’t sure what to think, but he wouldn’t ignore his gut. Something told him to go back to that house.

  Lucas tilted his head to the side. “That’s right on the cusp of the state police line. I can file the report, but I’m not sure they’ll let me keep the case. I’ll try though, to make sure it’s handled correctly.” He stood, taking his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll call it in right now and get state patrol to keep an eye out for a white Dodge in the area. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He moved away from them and into the kitchen to make the call.

  “How did you remember all of that?” Aubrey asked Roman, her eyes stunned. “I didn’t see any of it.”

  The cat lifted his chin, and Roman gave him another pet. “I have a good memory.” But it was more than that. He’d seen so much shit, nothing fazed him anymore. Not a bunch of fire demons scaling the walls, ready to pounce on him like the cockroaches they were. Not a possessed human ready to slit the throats of everyone around them.

  A car accident was barely a blip on his radar.

  But what had got him at the time was worry for Aubrey. Someone had put her life in danger, and he needed to find out who and why. Sitting here having coffee wasn’t finding him answers, and impatience built inside him with each passing minute.

  “Aubrey,” Stella said, her tone thin and high pitched. “Were you driving at the time?”

  “Yes,” Aubrey said, looking away, her hands wrapped tightly around her coffee mug. “Roman helped me stop the car safely.”

  Stella wavered and sat on the couch again.

  The witch’s reaction made Roman take notice. Aubrey had already admitted to needing to drive, of not wanting to be a passenger, and now his need to know what all that meant increased. What was the root of Aubrey’s anxieties? How could he help?

  After a moment, Stella met his eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  He nodded once, acknowledging her gratitude with a touch of surprise.

  Done with his call, Lucas returned, questions in his eyes—all of them directed at Roman. “There aren’t too many reasons to run someone off the road. Do you have someone after you?” A hard tone laced his voice.

  Roman could have laughed at the question if it weren’t for Aubrey’s distress. He’d always have someone after him. Fire demons had been pestering him for weeks, and Aym would eventually follow through on his claim, whether it was legitimate or not.

  Which was another reason he should stay away from Aubrey Karle.

  But when the van hit them, he hadn’t sensed a demon. And driving a car was an innately human thing to do. He’d never seen a demon behind the wheel of a vehicle.

  That didn’t negate the fact that Lucas’s thought processes had gone along the same line as his. Was he the reason for the crash, or was it something else? He would have suspected the weirdo at the estate sale, but there had been a blue sedan parked there, not a white van. It wouldn’t stop Roman from checking there anyway, ruling out all possibilities.

  The cat on his lap stretched, and he leaned back, allowing him to shift positions. That’s when a circle on the ceiling caught his eye—a perfectly shaped black circle about two feet in diameter. He blinked, willing it to disappear, but it remained where it was. It was faint, like it had been painted over, but it was unmistakable in its size and shape.

  Anger shot through him hot and fast. He turned his eye
s to the witch. “You’ve been summoning?” He knew it couldn’t be Aubrey, her soul would have been marked by it.

  Stella’s hand flew to her throat, her breath leaving her in a gasp. She shook her head.

  But the proof was right there. He stood abruptly. The cat screeched at being jostled, leaving pinpricks of pain through his jeans when he vaulted away.

  Fear for Aubrey sliced through him. She lived in a house where demons were summoned? He hadn’t thought the witch was the type. Maybe she didn’t understand the gravity of the act. But when a demon was summoned just once, they had their claws in you and it wasn’t possible to break free. If Stella dabbled in dark magic, he didn’t want Aubrey anywhere close to it.

  Needing his suspicions confirmed, he stepped to the side and kicked over the edge of the area rug at the center of the room. A matching circle was burned into the wood of the floor underneath, black as midnight. He knew without bending down and touching, it was covered in an oily soot, evidence of a demon passing from one world to the next.

  He lifted his gaze. Everyone in the room was standing, a new tension between them that hadn’t existed a moment ago. Stella stared at him with wide eyes. Aubrey had her arms wrapped around herself. Lucas had stepped behind Stella in solidarity, completely unfazed by what Roman had discovered beneath the rug.

  The cop knew about this? He was okay with it? None of it made sense.

  But Roman had to know the truth.

  “I can expl—”

  Before Aubrey had time to finish the sentence, he tore off his glove, stepped forward, and grabbed Stella’s wrist.

  Shock speared through him as the brightness of her soul blinded him. It was untainted by the mark of a demon, and the feel of it was almost painless. His grip had been loose, but she shouted at the contact, like he’d caused her physical pain, then snatched her hand away as if burned.

  Lucas whirled her away, blocking her with his body.