Ghost of a Summoning

by J E McDonald

“I’m sorry,” Stella said, a little breathless. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Moe straightened and came forward, smelling the air around her. Gaining confidence, he circled around, stretching to sniff her hair, then went back to investigate her feet. Stella held perfectly still during the examination.

  His skin returning to its softer mauve color, Moe jumped up on the counter and poked at their drinks.

  “Those are ours,” Aubrey said, snatching them away before he could touch them. “That’s yours,” she said nodding to the paper bag.

  Dropping his rag, he let out a delighted squeal and opened the bag to peek inside. Then, without hesitation, he wadded it all up, unhinged his jaw, and shoved the whole thing in his mouth in one go. After his tongue poked out and licked his lips, he patted his now rounded tummy in satisfaction.

  “Oh, wow,” Stella breathed, her face pale.

  “Yeah,” Aubrey agreed, still unsettled by the sight.

  “I had a tube of toothpaste and some mascara in there too.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  “No worries.”

  Apparently satisfied, Moe picked up his rag and scurried up the wall to the spot he’d left, resuming polishing up and down the beams.

  “Did your panic attack earlier have something to do with meeting him?”

  “Something like that.” On top of a few other things. “I might have forgotten to breathe for a while and passed out.”

  “And you have him dusting?” Stella asked, her voice thin.

  Aubrey shrugged, taking a sip of her drink and passing Stella her coffee. “He likes to help. And it was either that or have him swinging around.”

  After watching him for a while, Stella blinked, shook herself, and took a sip of her coffee.

  “What’s his energy like?” Aubrey asked, interested in Stella’s take on him.

  Stella tipped her head to the side. “It’s a lot of things that don’t stay still for long. Playful, curious, eager. There’s a bit of darkness there, but I’d say it’s a normal amount, normal for a human anyway.” She took another sip of her coffee. “He kind of reminds me of a greebling, actually,” she added, referring to the beings who’d escaped from the Fey into their home not so long ago. “But his energy takes up more space than theirs did.”

  “Maybe because the greeblings didn’t belong here?”

  “Maybe,” Stella said, her gaze thoughtful as she watched him. “But technically, demons don’t belong here either. They belong in Plight.”

  But Roman had told her earth demons lived underground here, so that couldn’t always be the case. “What do you know about Plight?” Aubrey asked, her eyes glued to Moe as he navigated the ceiling beams with uncanny certainty.

  “Not much,” Stella said, shrugging. “I know it’s not a nice place and no one pure of heart can enter, and it’s ruled by demons. That’s it, basically.” She shrugged again, then angled her body toward Aubrey. “Back to the demon on your ceiling. Roman left him alone with you?”

  “He had things to do,” she replied, looking away. The memory of what they found in the woods made a shiver race through her.

  “Something bad happened,” Stella said, her focus entirely on her, her face going pale. “Again. What was it this time?”

  Aubrey swallowed, then told her about the body in the woods. She left out the part about her intending to go on her own and Roman watching the house.

  “Did you call the police?” Stella asked, her face horrified and her voice quiet.

  “Roman said he told the FBI about it.”

  “Ander?”

  “I’m not sure.” But she probably should have asked.

  “What about Finn? I don’t feel him here. Does Moe scare him or something?”

  “I don’t know that either.” Aubrey had been wondering why her ghost had been so quiet, thinking that perhaps he was still hanging out with Celeste.

  She missed him. They’d been together for so long. Even then, she wouldn’t begrudge him a moment for himself. He deserved to be seen and heard after all this time.

  The two of them sipped their coffees while the quiet sounds of Moe working above them trickled down.

  “So,” Stella said after a time. “Roman’s going to spend the night, is he?”

  “I think so.”

  Her friend was quiet for a while, then said, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Me either.” After everything that had happened, she shouldn’t be adding her heart into the mix.

  Too late. It was already there. Whenever she thought of Roman raising a baby demon on his own, her chest clenched in that uncomfortable way that made her want to press her hand to her sternum.

  Ignoring the sensation, she straightened away from the counter. “How about we get some cleaning done?”

  Together, they made short work of the remainder of the cleanup. The guys helping with the bigger stuff yesterday had moved things along. And having Moe around turned out to be helpful too. Besides being a distraction from heavier thoughts, he straightened some of the artwork Roman hung yesterday and cleaned every top shelf in the place.

  Midafternoon, Aubrey’s cell rang. The call display showed Abigail’s number. With a little blip jumping in her chest, Aubrey answered it.

  “Hi, Abigail.”

  “Aubrey, hey. I have some information for you.”

  Her hand tightened on her phone.

  “I was able to talk to the social worker who handled your case back when you were two,” she said, her voice strained. “She didn’t really want to talk to me at first, but when I told her it was you, the girl, who was asking questions, then she opened up a bit more.”

  “What do you mean by ‘the girl’?”

  “You did have a brother. His name was Shawn. You two had been picked up from a pretty dire situation. There was evidence he’d given you intentional bruises. The social worker decided it was best to separate you in the system. I wasn’t able to find anything more about him. I guess his records were scrubbed for some reason.”

  Aubrey’s heart wedged itself in her throat. She did have a brother. What Finn had told her was true. Until this moment, she hadn’t quite been able to accept it.

  “Thank you, Abigail. I appreciate you looking into this for me.”

  “Not a problem.” A pause stretched out on her end. “I would like to keep in touch better, going forward.”

  Emotions competed in her chest. “I’ll try to be better about it.”

  “Good. Take care, Aubrey.”

  “You too.”

  When she disconnected the call, Aubrey stood staring at the screen for a moment.

  “Everything okay?” Stella asked, coming to stand beside her.

  Aubrey shook her head. “That was Abigail, you know, the social worker who took me to Lina and Charles. She said she found out I did have a brother, and we were separated in the system by another social worker when I was little because he wanted to hurt me.”

  “Oh, that’s horrible, Aubrey.” Stella wrapped her arms around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  A sniff escaped her. “I guess he never got over the feeling.” She didn’t understand it. She would have been so little back then, a toddler. She couldn’t have done anything to him. Why would he keep such anger toward her all these years?

  “Some people don’t have any goodness in them,” Stella said, maybe guessing at where her thoughts had gone.

  “No one’s born bad.” If Moe, a demon, could be good, then the same potential had to exist for everyone.

  “I suppose not,” Stella agreed, straightening and giving her shoulders a rub before stepping away. “Did you want to keep cleaning up, or should we call it quits for the day?”

  Aubrey’s gaze went around the store. They were almost done. Even though her shelves were mostly empty, everything was clean. There were just a few odds and ends to take care of. “Let’s keep going.”

  With an encou
raging smile, Stella nodded and got back to work. They were finishing up with the area around the front counter when Aubrey received a text from Roman. The pressure that had been building in her chest for the past couple of hours released, making her shoulders lighter and her head clear. She let out slow breath of relief.

  “That must have been some text,” Stella said, coming up behind her. “Your whole mood shifted for the better.”

  “It’s Roman telling me he’s on his way back,” she replied, texting him back.

  Stella stared at her for a full minute, then blinked. “You told him to send you a check-in text?”

  “Yeah, I just needed it.” When Stella kept staring at her, she added, “We’re basically done here, right?” Then she sent another text making sure he was still intending to stay with her.

  “Sure.”

  Aubrey could tell Stella wanted to say more, but was glad when she didn’t. Everything was so uncertain right now, so strange. She didn’t want to have a close examination of why she felt it necessary to ask Roman to check-in with her. If his text helped her state of mind, then it shouldn’t be an issue.

  But she knew where her friend’s mind had gone. Before today, Stella was the only person she needed check-in texts from. Otherwise, she didn’t allow herself to get close enough to others to require it. And now needing one from Roman meant…something.

  32

  The early evening sun brushed the tops of the houses along Willowpark Lane when Roman pulled in front of Aubrey’s house and shut off his engine. Her blue Civic was already in the driveway. He didn’t hop out right away but stared at the little cream house, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

  If he hadn’t already promised her he would stay the night, he would have begged off and watched her house from afar instead. Staying with her, inside her home with just the two of them, was a bad idea. He didn’t think he’d be able to resist her.

  A flash of what had happened between them in her stockroom made his nerve endings twitch. Yes, he wanted to see more of Aubrey, he wanted to be with her badly, but it still wasn’t a good idea.

  Aym was somewhere near Wickwood. And the demon wanted vengeance because Grant Milone had killed his son and cut off his hand.

  But even if Aym wasn’t in town, Aubrey already had a target on her back. Those pictures proved her brother’s obsession wasn’t a fleeting fancy. He meant Aubrey harm, and Roman wouldn’t allow her to deal with it on her own.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and jumped out of his truck. The curtains of the house next door twitched as he walked up the driveway. Once at the door, he knocked, wondering why he felt like he should be holding flowers or chocolates or something.

  “It’s unlocked!” he heard her call.

  He turned the knob. Unlocked. A frustrated breath escaped him. She had a homicidal brother after her and a demon general roamed about the area, and she’d left the door unlocked. Stepping inside the foyer, he locked the door behind him, then scanned the living room for Moe but didn’t see him.

  He followed kitchen sounds, a bang of a dish, the faucet running, a clatter of cutlery, and found Aubrey with her back to him. She pulled plates out of the cupboard, each movement jerky. Her phone was beside her, plugged into the charging cord in the wall. The open back door allowed the evening air and sounds of birds to filter inside through the screen door.

  Delicious scents hung in the air, whetting his appetite. A few white takeout cartons were lined up in front of her. “You should keep your doors locked and check who’s there before you invite them inside,” he said from the doorway.

  “I knew it was you.” Her tone pitched high, she glanced over her shoulder at him, her expression shuttered.

  It immediately made him uneasy. “How?”

  “You’re the only one I was expecting.” She opened a drawer and pulled out forks, even though there were already forks on the counter.

  “It’s the ones you’re not expecting who you should be concerned about,” he replied, keeping his tone gentle.

  Her movements stilled. “Right. Okay,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “I’ll be more cautious in the future.” She placed the plates on the kitchen table, then grabbed the white cartons two at a time to set beside them. “I didn’t feel like cooking, so I hope Chinese is okay?” Her voice was still pitched higher than normal.

  Something was wrong. All of her movements were jittery, her tone bordering on panic.

  His concern growing, Roman scanned the fare. It might be enough for the two of them, but not for a growing demon. “Where’s Moe?” If he’d run off when he’d told him to stay and protect Aubrey, he’d ground the demon for a year.

  “He’s in the back yard in the oak tree. I told him it was good for climbing, and I haven’t seen him since. Which is good, because he and my cat don’t get along. For a second there, I thought he might eat Loki, and I really wouldn’t want to end my day that way.” She let out a nervous laugh, then ran a shaky hand up and down her arm. “I thought he might be joking, then realized he wasn’t.”

  “Moe doesn’t understand humor. It’s a demon thing.”

  “Right. A demon thing. Of course. And saying it’s a ‘demon thing’ is totally part of a normal conversation.”

  “Where’s your cat now?” Roman asked, crossing to the back door to scan the tree. Branches near the top bent and bobbed under the demon’s unseen weight.

  “Hiding in Stella’s room. Loki has gotten very good at hiding these days.” She gestured to the cartons. “I got a few different things. Not sure what you like. I thought maybe you’re a vegetarian, so I got a mix of both. It’s probably too much isn’t it? I don’t really have an appetite. When I ordered it I was hungry, but not anymore.”

  “Anything is fine. But you have to know Moe will eat this all in one bite.”

  She gave him a strained smile. “Already taken care of. When I asked him what he liked, he said everything, so we went through the fridge and he ate all the leftovers.” A frown pinched her brow. “A couple containers got lost in the mix unfortunately, but he said he was full so I guess I can buy some new ones.” She shrugged. “Stella’s pasta salad was a big hit.” She let out another stuttered laugh. “I don’t think I want to know what a furry lollipop is, do I?” Another laugh. And this one turned into a choked sob at the end.

  “Aubrey.” He stood in front of her, taking her hands in his to pull her close. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m sorry.” She barely met his eyes, and when she did, they were hazy. “I get like this sometimes. When I have a lot of stress in a short period of time or not enough sleep. My therapist had some technical name for it. I haven’t gotten this way in a while though, but I don’t know if I slept at all last night. And after seeing Moe look at my cat like that, I think something might have broken inside me.” She let out a shuddering breath.

  He changed his grip on her hands so they were palm to palm. “What can I do to help?”

  “I’m not sure there’s much you can do. It’s kind of the same coping mechanisms as the anxiety, but they’re not working right now, you know? After finding out I had a brother, then what happened this morning, it’s a lot.”

  “I understand. What has worked for you in the past?” He hated seeing her like this and wanted to help. Though he had suffered from anxiety too, this was new to him.

  “Breathing. Physical activity.” Her words came out short and choppy. “I’ll probably go on a cleaning spree in a few minutes here.” She frowned at the floor. “I’ll go on a dust bunny rampage for a few hours then crash for a day and half. It’s not the most efficient way to deal with it, but it works.”

  When it looked like she might search for a broom, he kept hold of her hands. She frowned up at him.

  “What about a brisk walk?”

  “Brisk. Yes. It would need to be a very brisk, long walk.”

  “Let’s go then.” He tugged her toward the back door. “Where’s your house key?”

  She du
g it out of the pocket of her messenger bag on the kitchen counter and handed it to him, her hand shaking. “What about my cat?”

  “Moe,” he said when they’d stepped outside and he locked the door behind them. The branches of the tree bobbed as the demon climbed down. He revealed his form when he stopped in front of them. “We’re going for a walk,” Roman told him. “You’re on perimeter duty. Keep out of sight and no furry lollipops.”

  “Yes. Moe will protect Aubrey O.K. Yes.” He moved away from them, disappearing the next second.

  Keeping a firm hold of Aubrey’s hand, he led her through the gate to the front of the house.

  Not choosing any direction in particular, he picked a brisk pace. Aubrey sped it up, speed-walking like she competed in the Olympics. He kept pace beside her, her hand always in his, gripping him so tight his fingers began to ache.

  The sun dipped below the horizon, red filling the sky as they marched through the residential neighborhood. Most of the yards were well kept, the scent of fresh-mowed grass in the air. A dog barked, children squealed, a call came for someone to return to the house for supper.

  Everything moved by them in a blur at their pace. He kept his senses alert. His scar didn’t burn, there weren’t any demons about, but the fact that the fire demons hadn’t outright attacked him in a while made him edgy. And, of course, there was her brother to think about.

  After about ten minutes of this frantic momentum, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Less talking is better,” she replied quickly, her gaze forward. “Then I don’t spiral downhill with my words as well as my thoughts. But you could talk. That would help me focus on something else. Tell me about yourself.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about being in the French Foreign Legion. How did you end up there?”

  Tension racketed through his shoulders. “Who told you I was in the Foreign Legion?”

  “Lucas. He did a background check on you. Sorry about that, but he was looking out for me.”

  He wanted to ask what else Lucas had disclosed to her about his past, but now wasn’t the time. Not when she was the one who needed the distraction.