Ghost of a Summoning

by J E McDonald

  “Aubrey,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. In the next instant, he pulled her against him in an embrace so tight it hurt. “What did you do?” he whispered in her hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the words bubbling out like a fountain, the panicked tears she’d been holding back springing to her eyes. “I didn’t know breaking the vessel would do that. I was so angry, and I didn’t know what else to do—”

  He halted her words with his lips, and she clung to him. Her whole body shook as she accepted his touch, recent events replaying over and over in her head. They’d almost died.

  The heat of his body eventually warmed her enough to dispel the chills inside her chest. Her grip on his shirt didn’t loosen until he lifted his head.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he said, his voice strained. He tucked her hair behind her ear. “My God, Aubrey. You put yourself in the line of fire for me. I can’t even—”

  She was the one to stop his words with her lips before he could utter them. She didn’t lift her head until the tension in his body softened. He’d been ready to go to Hell for her, and she would do the same.

  A new tightness trapped her ribs. He’d been willing to go to Hell for her.

  He lifted his head and stroked her cheek. “Aubrey,” he murmured, and this time the kiss he gave her was filled with something else, sweet and gentle, a tenderness that made her heart ache.

  40

  He couldn’t stop touching her and reaffirming she was okay. Aubrey’s face cradled in his hands, he touched his lips to salty tears. Roman couldn’t get enough of her. He’d been so close to losing her, to losing everything.

  Stroking her cheek, he marveled at her sacrifice. She’d put her body and soul between him and Hell without thought to herself. The pure of heart cannot enter Plight. Her soul, her generosity and selflessness had saved him. How could he ever repay that?

  All at once, she broke away from him. “You stupid man,” she ground out, a flush of anger high on her cheekbones. She smacked his chest with the flat of her hand. “How dare you bend a knee in front of that monster.” She repeated the action twice more before he caught her hands against his chest. “How dare you.”

  When her voice broke, he gathered her against him, tucking her head under his chin and stroking her back. He let her cry out the emotions of the past hour. He’d stay like this all day if Aubrey needed it.

  Nothing mattered except that she was safe in his arms.

  The prophecy had been right and had showed him the way. Even if he hadn’t understood it at the time, if he hadn’t pledged his fealty, then none of the other events could have happened.

  He curled his arm around the demon beside him and pulled him closer. If it weren’t for Moe’s bravery, they’d all be dead. Roman’s chest swelled with emotion. He owed the demon his life and more. Never again would he complain when Moe did something nonhuman. The demon deserved more than every jar of Nutella in the city.

  Robertson’s words about atoning for one’s life rang true. Roman had thought his life was over. His sacrifice would have atoned for all his sins. If walking willingly into Plight had meant Aubrey and Moe remained safe, he would have made the same choice.

  He kept those words to himself and cradled the pair against him. A shudder ran through his body.

  Heavy footsteps and voices echoed down the hallway. As they neared, Moe backed away and shifted into his camouflaged form.

  Martinez and his team poured through the doorway, their guns drawn. His eyes skimmed over them, and the rubble on the floor, then settled on the crack before he tucked his gun into his holster.

  “You didn’t listen,” the agent said, extending his hand to them. “I told you to wait for back up.”

  Settling his hands on Aubrey’s hips, Roman made sure she climbed to her feet before he took the agent’s offered hand.

  “Glad to see both of you in one piece,” Martinez went on, his tone revealing he’d believed the worst. “When I saw the crack forming in the ground, I thought the whole city was about to be sucked in.”

  Roman tensed. The crack wasn’t isolated to this room?

  “And what exactly were those things that flew out?” Martinez added, his eyes never leaving the two of them.

  “You saw them too?” Aubrey asked, her voice small and her body shaking.

  Roman tucked her into his side, sharing his body heat. She wrapped her arms around his middle and leaned her face into his ribs.

  With his assessing eyes scanning the two of them, Martinez nodded. “Saw them leave, saw them get sucked back in. And those weren’t the only things. I shouldn’t need to say this, but we have enough creatures in this world to deal with. Don’t need more released just for fun.”

  Beside him, a small noise escaped Aubrey.

  “I think we’re done with those guys for now,” Roman said, knowing she was blaming herself, believing she shouldn’t have broken the vessel. Not that it could have happened any other way.

  More FBI swarmed into the room, these ones with equipment and black hard-shelled briefcases. The special investigations unit barely spared any of them a glance. They set up like they were used to this sort of thing, like demons hadn’t been crawling all over the place minutes before.

  As the team began erecting temporary metal support beams between the floor and the ceiling, the professor examined the broken bits of artifacts left on the floor, his eyes gleaming with interest. It reminded Roman of Jude.

  A bitter taste rose up in his throat at the thought of his father’s old partner. He’d been right about the bastard, and the man’s choices has sent him straight to Hell. His indecision regarding Jude had put Aubrey in danger, and Roman probably wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for it.

  There’s no stopping a prophecy. Robertson had been right about that, even if it would take Roman a long time to accept he’d had no control over what happened—if he ever could. Hell on Earth had nearly happened, only stopped by Moe’s actions. And Plight would have taken Roman if it hadn’t been for Aubrey’s selflessness.

  Martinez’s partner bent on one knee to examine the crack in the floor while the military woman, Ridon, kept looking around like she was missing something. Could she sense Moe? They needed to get out of there if that was the case. The room was swarming with as many FBI agents as there’d been demons minutes ago.

  Before he could figure out a way for them to leave quickly, the walls around them shook. The ground rumbled. Everyone stopped what they were doing until the trembling ceased. Dust fell on top of their heads, and Roman looked up. A matching crack spread cross-wise in the surface of the ceiling.

  “Maybe you two should head up where it’s safe,” Martinez murmured, and Roman embraced the suggestion.

  Ushering Aubrey out the door, he didn’t need to glance behind him to know Moe followed close, the demon’s light clicks filling the stone corridor. As they neared the spiral staircase that led to the surface, he realized Martinez followed them. Escape wasn’t going to be as easy as Roman thought.

  More FBI agents moved throughout the ground level of the church, some attending to the fallen parishioners who looked to be regaining consciousness.

  Roman turned to Martinez. “Someone needs to check the rectory. There was a priest and a nun there.”

  “Already taken care of.”

  With a nod, Roman pushed the front door open with his shoulder, keeping Aubrey protected under his arm. Even though it was mid-afternoon, a dark hue covered the sky, strange light emanating from the clouds. FBI vehicles mixed with cop cars and an ambulance in the parking lot, activity everywhere.

  Immediately, Roman’s eyes went to the jagged fissure bisecting it all. The crack had reached the surface, extending from the stone steps of the church, all the way down the street toward new downtown. In some places it was only an inch wide, others it was closer to a foot.

  Would the crack stay there forever? A remembrance of what had happened?

  Roman guided Aubrey down the stone steps and w
ould have continued on to his truck if Martinez’s voice hadn’t stopped them.

  “What happened to Folkes?”

  Aubrey’s body stiffened beneath his arm.

  “He didn’t make it,” he said, turning to him. When it looked like the agent would ask more questions, he added, “You won’t find a body.”

  There were more questions in the agent’s eyes, but he held them back with a nod. “I’ll want to talk to both of you later, but I can see you need to get out of here.” His eyes scanned Aubrey’s face.

  Beneath his arm, her body still shook, and he appreciated Martinez was perceptive enough to give her the space she needed.

  Martinez backed away from them toward the church. “Don’t leave town.” The agent directed the statement at Roman.

  He nodded. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Martinez stopped when the ground beneath them rumbled and the crack lengthened, traveling down the street. People jumped back from it, shouts of alarm punctuating the air. It didn’t get any wider where they stood, but it kept cracking and extending in one long line, like they stood on fragile ice over a lake.

  Roman couldn’t see the end of it.

  “Shit, that’s heading straight toward the office.” Martinez jogged to his car without looking back.

  “So sad,” Moe murmured from behind them. “Yes, that office is so sad.”

  When it no longer seemed like the crack was moving, Roman pressed his cheek to Aubrey’s hair. “Let’s get out of here,” he said softly.

  She stiffened. “That’s Stella’s car. Is she here?” She straightened to look around.

  “She was earlier. Lucas took her home.”

  Swallowing, Aubrey nodded. He helped her into his truck and made sure she was buckled in before closing the door. Jogging around to the other side, he opened the door, waiting for Moe to jump inside, then climbed in after him.

  Moe dropped his camouflage as soon as the door closed.

  “Oh, Moe,” Aubrey breathed, then wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

  Moe curled into her lap, rubbing the top of his head under her chin. “Moe protected Aubrey O.K. Yes. That was Moe’s job.”

  “You did good, bud,” Roman said, his chest tight. “Let’s see your wrist.”

  For a moment, Roman hesitated to touch the little demon. Had his actions put Moe in a place where his soul became dimmer? Swallowing, he took Moe’s hand in his, then let out a slow, relieved breath. His soul remained as bright as it always had. He hadn’t been affected by Aym’s attempt at corruption. It didn’t matter anyway. Even if he had been tainted, Roman would never be able to harm a hair on Moe’s head. Not after everything they’d been through together. He loved the little guy.

  The angry red mark lay stark against the gray of his skin. It looked like it was already healing, a hardness, something like a scab forming over his flesh. Probably due to Moe’s earth demon half. Roman reached behind the seat and grabbed his first aid kit. Quickly, he covered the wound in ointment, then bandaged it.

  Over the demon’s head, he met Aubrey’s eyes. They were filled with so many things. He didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to keep it together. Good thing she didn’t need to. He would keep her safe, take her somewhere where she could unravel as much as she needed to.

  With one last glance at Aubrey, he started the truck. They all stank of sulfur, the scent of fire demons filling the cab. He’d take Aubrey back to his place to shower and get the smell out. Too bad it wouldn’t be as easy to erase the memories.

  Aym was gone. Wickwood was safe. Roman’s eyes settled on the pair cuddled in the seat next to him. They had each other.

  41

  Snug in Roman’s bed, protected in his arms, something woke her. Aubrey lifted her head. Stars glinted through the slats of the blinds in the window beside the bed. The clock on his dresser beamed a bright red 12:26 at her.

  When they’d arrived, they’d shared a long, tender shower in which he’d washed the stench of evil from her as she’d cried everything out. After, he’d wrapped her up in a blanket and snuggled into bed with her.

  The warmth of Roman’s arm lay heavy over her hip, the woodsy scent of his body wash surrounding them. His even breaths tickled the back of her neck. She turned her head to see his face in the dark. He was so strong, bigger than life. He attacked demons with an athletic fervor that didn’t seemed tamable. What was a guy like him doing with her? Her next thought banished the question. It didn’t matter because she wasn’t going to let him go.

  Aubrey blinked up at the ceiling and listened to the quiet noises of the night. What had woken her? Whatever the sound, it was gone, but now the need to use the bathroom made it impossible to go back to sleep. Slowly, she squirmed out of bed, trying not to wake Roman. A bathrobe hung on the back of his door, and she slipped it on, then inhaled deep when his scent surrounded her. She kept her eye out for Moe, but didn’t see him and assumed he was fast asleep in his little closet nook.

  The bright light in the bathroom made her squint against the glare. Finishing up, she turned off the faucet and reached for the towel hanging beside the light switch when the surface of the mirror fogged up.

  She froze. “Finn?”

  Bye, bye.

  Aubrey’s heart leaped into her throat. “No.” She gripped the edge of the counter until the edge bit into her palms.

  A smiley face emerged in the fog.

  “You can’t leave me now.” Her heart beat hard and fast.

  Safe.

  “No!” The words came out as plea and a shout. “Not now. Not after everything.”

  Another heart appeared in the fog, this one lighter in its strength. “I love you too, Finn,” she whispered, her throat so tight she could barely speak. “You were my best friend, my only friend, for so long. I don’t want to lose you.”

  She hung her head. He’d been with her for what seemed like forever. She didn’t know how she’d go on without him always by her side when she needed him.

  When she lifted her head, new words appeared. Time to go.

  She didn’t want to accept this. After everything, she didn’t want him to go. Her fingers felt icy numb. She might never talk to him again.

  Celeste’s words about having unfinished business filtered through her grief. He’d been with her to protect her from her brother, and now her brother was dead. Finn’s business on this plane was finished, and now he deserved his rest. After everything, he’d more than earned it.

  She needed to let go—even if it felt like a knife in her chest to do so.

  “I’ll miss you,” she managed to croak. “I’ll miss you so much.”

  Me too.

  Another heart followed the words, so faint she knew there wouldn’t be anything more. She pressed her palm against the mirror beside the symbol that faded too quickly. It hurt, but it was going to be okay. Finn deserved more than to be stuck on this plane babysitting her. He deserved so much for being brave. It was going to be okay. She was going to be okay.

  When she opened the door, Roman was there, his presence filling the hallway. Without hesitation, she tumbled into his arms.

  42

  The cheap office chair squeaked as Roman leaned back. “Can you repeat that?”

  He sat across from Ander Martinez in his sad little office, a space in a strip mall near the condemned Langport Financial building in new downtown. One narrow window spanned the back wall, but the daylight had a hard time competing with the buzzing, artificial glow of the overhead fluorescents. Nothing broke up the sterile environment, not a plant or motivational poster to be seen. Roman wished he had some snacks.

  The agent’s face remained stoic. “A chimera. I know it’s hard to imagine, but that’s what it was.”

  Roman shook his head. Not because he didn’t believe what Martinez told him, but the fantastical account of past events took a moment to sink in.

  Before he arrived, he’d braced himself for a strained meeting with the agent. But instead of being tight-lipped,
the agent told him about what had happened to Stella and her father, and how Aubrey had been involved.

  With his feet propped up on the corner of a desk that looked like it came from Ikea, Martinez tossed a thick wad of papers in front of Roman. “But enough about that,” he said, nodding to the paper-clipped bundle. “You’d asked earlier about Jude and Shawn’s partnership. Jude was the one to ship the vessel from Turkey, but from all other reports, the pair hadn’t met until they both ended up in Wickwood.” He leaned back and interlaced his fingers over his stomach.

  Roman picked up the papers and gave them a scan. The word “confidential” was printed in red across the top. The agent knew he preferred to work alone, but since he was already on the books as a consultant, Roman wasn’t opposed to open communication, not if it helped everyone in Wickwood in the long run. He’d already divulged everything he knew about Jude Folkes, including the work he’d done with his father and the Church. When dealing with the Paranormal Special Investigations division of the FBI, the NDAs he’d been signing with the Church became moot.

  In return, Agent Martinez opened up about why he’d been following Jude in the first place. Jude had landed on the FBI’s radar with some work he’d done in Turkey. There’d been evidence of summoning on an archaeological dig from years ago, putting the team of experts on the radar of the local authorities with very little evidence to go on. Jude’s name was flagged as an American citizen, and the FBI had been keeping tabs on him ever since. When he crossed into Martinez’s turf, they were ordered to watch him. They hadn’t known how deep the archaeologist’s involvement with Aym had become.

  “And,” the agent continued, “we traced the delivery to Aubrey’s store back to her brother. He’d accomplished some interesting manipulation: bribing a worker to manufacture a fake address, then deleting all record of the transaction once it was delivered.”