Ghost of a Summoning

by J E McDonald

  The bemused look he gave Roman revealed the out-of-context comment for what it was, an attempt at camaraderie. Needing him to go on, Roman nodded.

  “I followed them to an ancient temple,” he continued. “They’d burrowed under it with the help of earth demons, where they’d been…” He stopped for a moment, his eyes shifting to Aubrey, then away. “Using humans. They’d been there a while. It looked like they were trying to cross breed or something.”

  Jude stopped, his expression haunted, and for a second Roman regretted cutting him out of his life. He’d seen similar setups over the last couple of years, like how he’d found Moe. It kept occurring to him that the different kinds of demons were becoming too coordinated, like they were planning something. If he and Jude had compared notes, maybe they could have gotten to the bottom of what the fire demons had been up to. Maybe he could have bounced his ideas off Jude, revealed to him that he thought the demons were cross breeding to become stronger, that their end goal might be to live more comfortably on Earth’s surface.

  Aubrey stepped closer to him, so close her body pressed up against his. Roman ran his hand down her back in comfort.

  Jude stared at them, his head tilted.

  “And the symbols?” Roman prompted when Jude didn’t continue.

  “Right. The symbols,” he said, blinking. “They had this altar set up, and it looked similar to this vessel in a lot of ways. The three bands, the age of it, but it was a lot bigger.”

  While he tipped the vessel this way and that in the beam of light, Roman examined his face. Jude really enjoyed the history part of all this. Roman just wanted demons to stop terrorizing humans. “What happened to the altar?”

  Jude hesitated again, then said, “It was destroyed in the fight. Cracked, then disintegrated.”

  From the way he said it, Roman knew there was more to it than that but Jude didn’t want to expand on it in front of Aubrey.

  “What do the symbols mean?” Aubrey asked, shivering.

  Without thinking, Roman wrapped his arm around her, pulled her in front of him to rub her arms and give her some warmth.

  After staring at them again for longer than necessary, a preoccupied expression on his face, Jude refocused on the vessel.

  “So the middle band, the Sumerian, is quite clear. It’s the seven deadly sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride. The other two bands are harder to decipher. I’m not fluent in either language and don’t come across it much to compare. But I can make out three words on the bottom row: hate, broken, escape. And on the top it looks like love, release, and woman, but I’m not sure of the rest. I’ll need to find some of the church’s old textbooks to translate.”

  His voice became distracted as he went off toward the shelf holding musty volumes of books.

  Aubrey shivered again, and Roman resumed rubbing her arms. “Are you doing okay?” he asked her, pulling away slightly to see her better.

  She nodded, but her face was pale. “I’m just really cold.”

  It was chilly in the catacombs but not freezing. Bringing her had been a mistake. Something was going on inside her head, and she was slipping into a state of shock again. He needed to take her above ground.

  “Can we leave this here with you?” Roman asked. Beside him, Aubrey tensed even more.

  “Hmmm?” Jude asked, hefting a massive book onto the table. “Oh, yes, please do. I’ll let you know when I find out anything new.”

  Roman took Aubrey’s hand and led her away from the table. Despite her obvious discomfort, she seemed reluctant to go, her eyes fixed on the vessel. Jude was already lost in an ancient land, his head bent over the book.

  “Jude?”

  His father’s old partner lifted his head, a frown on his face.

  “Thanks.”

  His expression softened. “Any time.”

  With a nod, Roman tugged Aubrey closer and guided her toward the staircase.

  29

  With each step up toward street level, the warmth returned to Aubrey’s body. But while climbing the stairs, she kept thinking she was making a mistake to leave the vessel behind. What was wrong with her? It didn’t make sense. Every word Jude spoke seeped the positivity out of her. Someone sent her a vessel with demon speak on it.

  The catacombs had pressed in on her, making her chest tight. Thinking about being inside rock had her heart racing, not to mention all the stuff Jude had told her. Roman’s presence helped. His hands warmed her while his body had kept her grounded.

  Ever since she’d stepped foot in the church, she’d felt out of place. The quiet of it unsettled her, like she might do or say something wrong. The statues in the foyer glared at her. Even the air seemed different inside, heavy with ritual. Sunlight fragmented its way through arched stained glass windows set high in the walls.

  Undercurrents ran between the two men. Even if Roman hadn’t told her that he didn’t like Jude, she would have been able to tell by how stiff he’d become since they’d pulled up to the church. She didn’t understand it really because Jude seemed like an affable guy.

  She’d tried not to stare at the three gouges across his face, but it was kind of hard not to, when they were such a prominent feature. It looked like a large animal had clawed him. And after his story, she realized he had the same job as Roman, a demon hunter. Had one slashed him across the face? He could have died from an injury like that. It got her thinking about the danger Roman put himself in for his job. And that made her chest tighten even more, her breaths becoming short.

  She was growing attached to him, and thinking about him getting hurt had the same effect as thinking about something happening to Stella. Her hands became clammy, and her heart rate went through the roof.

  Even now as Roman led her up the winding staircase, she gripped his hand a little harder to reaffirm to herself that he was there, solid and well.

  Aubrey’s heart rate didn’t calm until Roman pushed open the main door. She inhaled a deep breath of fresh air and stepped out onto the stone landing. With her free hand, she rubbed warmth back into her arm. She knew Roman’s concerned gaze was on her, but she evaded looking him in the eyes.

  The door shut with a clunk, and she glanced over her shoulder at the towering structure. “Now that I know what’s written on the vase, I’m glad it isn’t in my store anymore.” Even if the weird feeling that she shouldn’t leave it behind pressed against the back of her eyeballs.

  After a moment, Roman squeezed her hand and led her down the wide stone steps. She thought he’d let go, but he didn’t, instead pulling her into his side and letting his body warm her. When they neared her car, she tensed. She couldn’t see Moe inside and wondered where he’d gone.

  She peered into the window and yelped when he materialized right before her eyes. “How did he do that?” she asked, her heart pumping harder.

  “Like I said, he’s half air demon and can camouflage himself.” Roman turned her toward him. “Are you okay to drive?”

  She nodded. “Just a little disconcerted.” That was an understatement. Everything she’d learned had made her apprehension grow. She looked up into Roman’s face. “Do earth demons live in the ground all the time? Could there be some underneath us right now?” The thought made her anxiety ratchet up.

  His eyebrows shot up. Then it looked like he debated whether to tell her the truth or not.

  “Tell me. I’d rather know.”

  “They do. But usually deep down. Out of all the demons I’m sent after, they’re the ones I see the least. They don’t like sunlight, or air, or noise, and usually feed off dead things like scavengers.”

  “Dead things,” she repeated. “Like bodies in cemeteries?”

  He grimaced. “Sometimes. But not usually.” Then he shook his head like he didn’t want to discuss it further. “Are you going back to your store today?”

  “I have to,” she replied. The shift in topic made the tension in her body release a little. There was still so much to accomplish, and Stella h
ad offered to help finish up with the cleaning. “If I want to reopen, there’s more work to do.” Her shelves were mostly bare. Did she have enough money to even make another run at it, to restock and try again? Even if the insurance company filled her claims, the money might be a long time coming. She would need to compensate with her savings first.

  Every day she kept the store closed would hurt her bank account. But she wasn’t going to give up, no matter how tempting it was to call it quits. She wouldn’t forgive herself if she squandered Charles and Lina’s money.

  Digging her phone out of her messenger bag, she sent a text to Stella that she’d be heading to the store. She drove there, Roman beside her in the passenger seat, Moe in the back. Once in her parking space, she let out a breath, not really looking forward to addressing all the issues inside. After the few days she had, bone-weary tiredness made her movements slow.

  Roman turned toward her. “I need to get my truck and talk to the FBI.”

  Right. That whole body-in-the-woods thing. Aubrey swallowed. “Did you want me to give you a ride?” Thinking about returning to the estate house made her break out in chills, the memory of the woman’s body turning her stomach.

  “I have a ride,” Roman said, glancing down the alley, then back at her. “But I’m going to leave Moe with you.”

  She glanced back at the demon, who’d somehow wrapped himself around the frame of the back window, making a crescent shape out of his body. “Um…” A demon in an antique store sounded about as good an idea as a bull in a china shop. What if someone saw him through the window?

  “He knows how to stay hidden,” Roman replied, even though she hadn’t asked the questions aloud. “No one will see him, and he’ll stay out of your hair unless you call for him.”

  “What about Stella? She’ll be coming. She’ll sense him.”

  He hesitated, then shrugged. “Stella can handle it. Just ask her to be discreet.”

  As she nodded, Moe crawled over the seat and settled himself between them.

  “Right, Moe?” Roman said, his eyes on the little demon. “You’ll protect Aubrey and stay out of sight?”

  Moe nodded, his face serious. “Yes. Moe will be brave for Aubrey O.K. Yes.”

  “I know you will,” he replied, patting the demon’s head.

  After leaning into his hand, Moe vanished like he was vapor.

  Aubrey gasped. “Amazing.” She’d never get used to it. Reaching out a tentative hand, she tried to see if he still felt the same. She connected to nothing but air.

  “He’s already in the back again,” Roman said quietly.

  “How can you tell?” She glanced over the seat but could see nothing.

  “I’m used to it. The air shifts around him.”

  Aubrey stared but still couldn’t see anything. Shaking her head, she refocused on Roman. They both had unseen things following them. Literal and figurative.

  With that thought, she wondered what Finn was up to. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since visiting Celeste at the farm. Maybe he’d be in the store today, or maybe he’d rather spend more time with people who could actually see him. The thought depressed her a little.

  Roman grabbed the door handle to get out. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

  He stared at her hand for a second, then met her eyes. “Can you—” She paused, wondering how he’d take her request. “Can you text me when you’re on your way back? So I know you’re okay?” Swallowing, she waited for his response, her stomach in her throat.

  After a moment, he nodded. With a relieved breath, she dropped her hand, allowing him to continue out.

  “You and me, Moe,” she murmured and hopped out of the car. She held her door open for a few beats longer than she normally would, looking around her to see if she could see the air move like Roman described, but she didn’t.

  “He’s by the back door,” Roman said.

  She stared where he pointed, but saw nothing. Shaking her head, she closed the door and took out her keys.

  “Lock the door behind you.”

  She nodded, feeling sad about needing to be so cautious. When would the good old days return, where the only thing she had to worry about were how many matches she’d had that day on Simmer? But then, watching Roman go, she held onto the hope that she would no longer need Simmer.

  30

  The black SUV with tinted windows that had been following them since their stop at Our Lady of Sacrifice was parked a few doors down from the entrance at Relics. Roman picked up his pace before the car could leave, walking right in its path so it would have to run over him if it wanted to make a break for it. Even though he couldn’t see inside, he jogged to the passenger side, gave the person a jaunty wave, and knocked a beat on the window.

  It took a few long seconds before the window rolled down. Agent Martinez stared at him, his face devoid of the shit-eating grin he usually wore.

  “I need a ride to my truck,” Roman said, pulling on the locked door handle a couple times for good measure. “I left it at a mall.”

  Martinez kept staring at him, let out breath, and unlocked the door with a click on his side panel.

  “Thanks,” he said, hopping inside and giving the reluctant agent’s shoulder a slap hard enough to make his palm sting. “I knew I could count on you.” A glance in the backseat revealed it was just the two of them. “Next time I move, I know who to call to help out.”

  The agent’s severe expression didn’t change as he stared at him. “The FBI received an anonymous tip about that house that was burning the other day, but I’m thinking you’re not as anonymous as you’d like to be. Was it you?”

  Roman needed to stay off the law enforcement’s radar. This whole trip back to Wickwood had felt messy from the start. But with the way the agent stared at him, no humor or margin for bullshit in those eyes of his, Roman decided a little truth might go a long way. He nodded.

  “We found the body,” Martinez said, his voice brittle.

  “Not surprised, when I gave them such good directions.”

  “I’m going to need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Ask away, but why don’t we hit the road? Or are FBI agents not good multitaskers? I could drive if you need me to. My truck’s at Southend Mall.”

  After a few more long seconds of staring at him, Martinez started the car and pulled away from the curb. They hadn’t even left old downtown before the agent began his questions.

  “That shack was well away from the property. How did you find it?”

  The agent’s demeanor had completely flipped from what it had been during their previous encounters. Maybe now wasn’t the time to stick it to him. “I smelled them.”

  “Them?”

  “Demons. There’d been a recent summoning.”

  Martinez glanced at him, then changed lanes to take the main roads to the suburbs. “And how many of these summonings have you come across in your work?”

  “Dozens. Hundreds. I don’t keep count.” There were a lot of bad people in the world who would make a deal with a demon to get their way. Wealth, power, sex—the motivation wasn’t worth the price of a person’s soul. Once that first step was taken, there was no turning back. When he started this job, they’d mostly been singular events, but over the past few years, the scenes like the one in the basement of that other house, the nest, were becoming more frequent.

  “Those names you gave me yesterday, Shawn Karle and Jonathan Livingston, where did you get them?”

  The question made Roman tense. “What did you find out?”

  “That’s not how this is going to work.” The agent’s voice became harder. “I’m the one asking the questions.”

  “On a job. There’d been another summoning but no humans, alive or otherwise. Your turn.”

  A beat of silence, then, “The private investigator handling Jonathan Livingston’s case turned up dead last week. Mugging gone wrong, and he was on the receiving end of a butcher knife.”

  Roman fisted his h
ands. It seemed like Aubrey’s long-lost brother would cut ties and remove anyone in his path. It made him even more dangerous. “He did it. Shawn Karle killed him to cover his tracks. He’s responsible for the fire too.”

  “How do you know that?” Martinez ran a frustrated hand over his hair. “We’ve looked, and there isn’t anyone connected to anything with that name.”

  “Then look farther out. He exists. And Aubrey’s in danger from him.” She didn’t deserve to have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life. “What about Jonathan Livingston? Did you find out anything about him?

  “You don’t actually think that’s a real person, do you?”

  Roman didn’t respond.

  “What were you doing at the church just now?” Martinez asked after a time, his gaze fixed on the highway.

  “I work for the Church. Sometimes I need to go there. It’s not unusual to need to go and talk to your employer now and then.”

  “You took something inside, and Aubrey was with you.”

  He didn’t respond. How long had the good agent been watching him today?

  After a time, Martinez got right to the point. “What is your relationship with Jude Folkes?”

  “Why are you investigating him?”

  “I told you that wasn’t going to work this time.”

  Roman let out a slow breath. “He worked with my father a long time ago, when I was a kid.” Then he turned to regard the agent’s expression. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  Martinez didn’t answer, instead saying, “And now? Do you work together?”

  “No. I told you before. I work alone.”

  “But you took Aubrey into the church. How is she involved in your work?”

  Roman didn’t answer.

  The agent tried another tactic. “When I left the shack, they were taking casts of more than one footprint out there. Two were fresh, one much smaller than the other. Who was out there with you?”