Ghost of a Summoning

by J E McDonald

  Roman nodded his understanding, scanning the first few pages of the report. Most of it was nothing new, having discussed quite a few details with Martinez over the past couple of weeks since the incident at Our Lady of Sacrifice. “So you’re closing the case.”

  Martinez nodded. “Officially, yes. But you and I know that’s probably not the end of it.” He waved vaguely toward the door to the office.

  The crack created by the event with Aym hadn’t disappeared. In fact, it ran right in front of the sad little strip mall and continued on underneath the Langport Financial building a few doors down on the other side of the street. The city’s construction crews kept trying to fix the mess Aym left behind, but whenever they paved over the crack bisecting new downtown in two, it reopened again—a make-work project with no end in sight. Each building it went under had been evacuated for fear of weakened integrity.

  “I spoke with Grace Liller yesterday,” Martinez mentioned mildly.

  Roman stiffened. Standing, he tossed the bundle of papers back on the desk, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to take it with him. “Is that everything?”

  “For now.” Martinez’s eyes glinted, like he wanted to say more, then he just smiled.

  Roman didn’t like that smile. It meant the agent wanted something. But he had other commitments he needed to follow through with before he could do anymore “consulting,” those he’d made to Grace and Sam. He’d already been planning to see them today without the agent mentioning names. He’d been putting it off far too long.

  Without further comment, Roman left the white-on-white space and headed to the front of the main area, nodding to Wiley and Ridon at their desks on the way by. They were bickering about something, and he didn’t slow down to find out more, not wanting to waste time. The sooner he finished with his errands, the sooner he could return to Relics.

  As soon as he was outside, Roman breathed in a lungful of fresh air. Autumn had officially invaded Wickwood. The leaves on the trees had turned to hues of mustard yellow, burnt orange, and crimson. A crispness invaded the air, but it was a welcome relief after the unseasonably warm days of September.

  Roman hopped into his truck and rolled down the window before pulling out of the strip mall parking lot. A hint of tar invaded the cab. One street over, a road maintenance crew worked on sealing the crack in the pavement.

  It was only a matter of time until the citizens of Wickwood realized there was more to this town than what lay on the surface. Their first clue might have been the beasts flying about Our Lady of Sacrifice two weeks ago. If there hadn’t been accompanying low-quality videos shot by resourceful citizens, the fact that demons had been released on Earth might have been denied. As it was, a new sort of expectant tension infused everyone, like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. The real estate market had seen an influx of houses for sale without an equal interest in new buyers.

  People were leaving Wickwood in fear.

  Roman signaled and turned right at the next corner, heading toward the northwest part of town. Two days ago, he’d attended Father Robertson’s funeral. It had been held at another Catholic church, since Our Lady of Sacrifice was still a mess after Aym’s visit. The turnout had been massive, people from across the city showing their respect for a priest who’d been a solid part of the community for years. Aubrey attended with him and stood by his side, holding his hand through the entire thing. A weight had been lifted from Roman’s chest knowing the priest was now at peace and beyond the suffering of his illness.

  After what happened with Aym, Roman had tried to find a new rhythm in life. He’d talked to the secretary at Our Lady of Sacrifice, and no one from the Church had sent the addresses of the last two jobs he’d received. There was no record of them. He was pretty sure Jude had been behind both. He’d had access and motive, and maybe the man had tried to warn him about Aubrey’s brother in his own way. It didn’t absolve Jude of any wrongdoing; he’d lost his soul a long time ago. But maybe like Robertson, he’d been trying to make amends.

  The breach in chain of command had resulted in a revamping of the communication between Church and demon hunters across the continent, with more secure encryptions on devices and thorough check-ins. The overhaul had been a long time coming. The two-step authentication was a pain in the ass, but it beat the hell out of not knowing whether or not a job was legit.

  And the constant sensation that Roman always needed to look over his shoulder, that darkness always followed him, was gone. The itch to move on from Wickwood had passed. Some of that had to do with Aym’s death, but mostly it was because of Aubrey.

  Thoughts of her always made his heart rate accelerate. As soon as he was done with today’s task, he’d return to Relics. It surprised him how much he liked working in the little shop. After everything, he really had needed a change of pace, and working beside Aubrey was a type of joy he hadn’t known he could have in his life.

  And no matter how many times she told him otherwise, he was pretty sure he didn’t deserve any of it.

  She still grieved for Finn, but there was acceptance there too. After two days of her walking in a fog, of him taking care of her and making sure she ate enough, the haze in her vision lifted. The numbness she’d experienced turned into an intense fervor—directed at him.

  Aubrey Karle couldn’t keep her hands off him.

  He spent more time at her place than his, practically living there. And every night, they spent most of their time pleasing one another. There was always an edge to their lovemaking, a barely contained desperation inside Aubrey he tried to temper without success. It was like she believed if she slowed down, took her time, the ties between them might slip through her fingers. After everything that had happened, he could hardly blame her. A person couldn’t deny life was short after facing off with a demon.

  Swallowing, Roman focused on navigating the office district that stretched in front of him. He wished he could take her pain for her but knew even if he had the ability to make her forget, she wouldn’t want him to. That didn’t stop him from wanting to ease her troubles. He would do anything for her.

  For the past week, she’d opened her store as normal, restocking her shelves and accepting customers. With a few changes in inventory, he could already see Relics’ popularity on an upward trend. Aubrey’s determination at making her business a success seemed to have increased tenfold. No one could stop her from owning her shop. No one was going to set her back.

  He loved her for that.

  Every morning, he’d gone into the store with her and stayed the whole day. There wasn’t any more talk of him being her employee. He was there to be with her, and Aubrey hadn’t sent him away. For the first time, he didn’t want anything to take him away from Wickwood. He had a reason to stay. But he couldn’t deny he’d been avoiding something. The issue hung over him like a black cloud filled with acid rain. He couldn’t ignore it anymore.

  On a defeated sigh, he parked in front of a historic redbrick building and shut off his engine. This meeting was long overdue. When he’d been focused on the prophecy, nothing else had mattered, even promises he’d made to Grace and Sam. Now, with Aubrey back on her feet and Wickwood settling into its new normal, he had no more excuses. Jumping out onto the street, he stared up at the two-story office building. Time to face some harsh realities.

  Liller Investigations still had their hand-made sign pointing to the back entrance, a metal staircase that served as a fire escape the only way up. The structure clattered under his feet as he climbed. He opened the door into a common space, three doors leading off the main area. Roman crossed the room and knocked on the door marked Liller Investigations.

  “It’s open,” a male voice called from the other side.

  Roman stepped into a foyer with a worn black leather couch on one wall, a window cradling a fern on the other. Photographs of English castles lined the walls on either side.

  Sam poked his head out of his office, blinked, then stepped out fully to stride toward hi
m. “Roman,” he said in his polished Oxford accent, extending his hand. “It’s good to see you. Heard you were back in town.”

  Grace’s husband always had an easygoing air around him, an openness in his eyes that told a person what they saw was what they got. Taking the offered hand, Roman gave him a nod. “It’s been a while.” He couldn’t seem to keep the note of apology out of his voice, and Sam inclined his head in acceptance.

  Scanning the office, he searched for signs of others. “Is she in?”

  “Her office,” Sam replied, cocking his head down the hallway.

  “Thanks. We should catch up later.”

  Sam’s lips quirked into a smile. “Absolutely, mate.”

  Roman had never been sent to the principal’s office as a kid, but he thought walking down the short hallway was probably what it felt like. He knocked.

  “Come in,” came her response a second later.

  Opening the door, he stepped inside.

  Grace’s office was well used and orderly. Three filing cabinets lined the one wall, shelves with cameras and other sorts of equipment on another. On her desk, a neat pile of papers lay on one side of her laptop, an almost messy pile on the other. The contrast between the warm wood tones here and Martinez’s office was startling.

  The woman herself wore a business suit, her medium brown hair secured at the base of neck in a twist. Her head tipped downward, she focused her gaze on the notebook in front of her. After a second of silence, Grace lifted her head. No surprise registered on her face at seeing him.

  “Roman,” she said after a moment, her striking features expressionless.

  “You busy?”

  She gestured to the chair across from her. “Not at the moment, but lately that’s been known to change at the drop of a hat.”

  Closing the door behind him, he moved to the chair opposite her and sat.

  “I’m surprised to see you,” she said when he didn’t start the conversation. “I heard you were in town from Stella.” She paused. “And Zack.” She paused again. “And the FBI. When I hadn’t heard from you, I thought maybe you were done working with us.”

  “I had some things to take care of.”

  She stared at him, one eyebrow raised, then straightened some papers on her desk before saying, “Circumstances have changed since the last time you’ve taken a job with us.”

  The abrupt statement made him straighten. “Are you asking me to not come back?”

  With her forehead pinched, she shook her head. “We’ve had to change the scope of most of our investigations over the past couple of months. We’ve been getting less and less calls for haunting certifications and more and more where the clients want the phenomenons to go away. I have a feeling that’s only going to increase in the coming weeks.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile.

  With what had happened with Aym and the things he learned from Martinez about Langport Financial, he wasn’t surprised.

  “We now have an agreement with the FBI that we’ll pass along any cases surpassing our scope,” Grace went on. “I need people on my team I can rely on, not those who don’t even tell me they’ve returned from Europe weeks ago.”

  The statement smarted, even if the words were spoken without heat. Roman resisted the urge to wince.

  “Are you on board with us or not?” Grace asked.

  Roman met her gaze straight on. He’d always liked that Grace was direct to a fault. She could cut through the bullshit and say what she meant. He nodded once. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was in town. I’m not going anywhere. If you need me for a job, you can call.”

  She stared at him like she gauged his sincerity. After about a minute, she nodded. “But that’s not the only thing you’re here about, is it?”

  “No,” he agreed, but sudden nervousness made his next question clog in his throat. He reminded himself why he needed to do this: for him and for Aubrey. “You told me once you saw auras.”

  She stiffened, then straightened the already straight papers on her desk. “I might have mentioned that.”

  “What do the auras of demons look like?”

  Her lips parted, surprise lighting her eyes. After a time, she said, “They don’t have auras. It’s like the light in them is out, and the brightness around them is sucked inward. I always thought it was because they had no souls, but that’s just a guess. I haven’t ever come across the science of auras, and trust me, I’ve checked.”

  He nodded, his worst fear confirmed. Demons didn’t have auras, and he probably didn’t either.

  Silence descended in the office. He wanted to get up and go, to leave it at that, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Ask your question.” The gentleness in Grace’s voice was new to him, breaking through his thoughts.

  A nervous knot in his stomach, he gave her a small shake of his head. He stared at his hands, the gloves on them so constant, he didn’t even notice them anymore. His fingers curled into fists.

  “Roman,” she said, and he lifted his gaze. Her eyes had gone softer, and she gave him a small smile. “Your aura is blue. It shifts in color from dark to light, but it’s always a shade of blue.”

  Relief spread through his chest so fast it made him heady.

  “And right now, it’s the lightest blue I’ve ever seen on you,” she murmured. She blinked, then gave herself a shake, like she was trying to clear her head. “I’m sorry you never felt comfortable to ask me that question earlier. I’ll work on that.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not about you.”

  After a moment, she nodded. “Is there anything else?”

  He stood. “No. Call me when you need me. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was in town. I’ll work on that.”

  She sent him a small smile before he made his way to the door.

  With his hand on the knob, her voice made him pause. “I wouldn’t have hired you if I thought you were a bad person, Roman. We’re lucky to have you.”

  Swallowing, he looked over his shoulder, met her eyes, and nodded once before leaving.

  Sam stood at the side cart at the end of the hallway, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Be seeing you?” he asked, lifting his mug in a toast.

  “Yeah,” Roman said. “Give me a call sometime and we’ll go for drinks.”

  Sam’s smile widened. “Brilliant.”

  Not wanting to be inside anymore, Roman headed out onto the metal steps and down to the street. The truth of Grace’s words settled in his body from toes to scalp. If he had an aura, it meant he had a soul.

  His steps felt lighter than he could remember as he jogged to his truck. Eagerness quickened his movements. It had only been hours since he’d seen Aubrey, but he suddenly couldn’t get to Relics fast enough.

  As soon as he jumped into the driver’s seat, he pulled out his phone and sent her a text that he was on his way back. A smiley face emoji popped up on his screen a second later.

  Heart beating an upbeat rhythm in his chest, he started his truck and headed toward old downtown.

  43

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Aubrey said, smiling at her customers as she passed them the little brown bag stamped with the word Relics. “Have a nice day.”

  The woman and her daughter waved as they left the store, the bell above the door announcing their departure.

  A squeaking noise above her provided a counterbalance to the clicking of her new clocks on the back wall. Since the store was empty now, Moe shifted from his camouflage mode to solid, his little body on the hammock swing she’d hung between two ceiling beams. One claw of his foot dug into the ceiling beam to give himself a constant push, while his arm hung down, relaxed. The new mark on his wrist, now an earthy brown color instead of red, and so similar to Roman’s it was eerie, stood prominent against the mauve of his skin.

  The day she’d asked Moe not to swing on her new chandeliers, he’d looked truly heartbroken. Not wanting to wreck the little guy’s fun, she’d installed three swings throughout the store.
The small things in life always made Moe so happy, and she couldn’t resist trying to delight him.

  When Roman left to do errands this morning, she could tell something heavy weighed on his mind. This wasn’t the first time she noticed. In quiet moments, she could see the tension in his face, could see he battled internally. Every time she brought it up, he shook his head, not wanting to talk about it.

  After everything that had happened, she gained a new appreciation of life, never taking any moment for granted. Every moment spent with the people she cared about was precious. Especially Roman.

  Sex with him had turned into a wild thing she couldn’t seem to tone down. The term insatiable had escaped his lips. She couldn’t disagree. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time to do all the things she wanted to with Roman. His presence in her life had become as necessary to her as breathing. She’d deleted the Simmer app days ago.

  She’d spoken at length about dependency with her new therapist, one Ander Martinez had recommended so she could be honest about what really happened. Chris, a petite woman with a no-nonsense attitude, had assured her there was nothing unhealthy about the relationship she and Roman shared.

  And the other stuff Aubrey had told her…the therapist hadn’t batted an eye. But guilt of what had happened at the church ate at Aubrey. She’d caused a rift between Earth and Hell, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to rid herself of the remorse completely. The things she’d seen that day…

  Armed with new and useful anxiety-battling techniques, Aubrey centered her focus on her store, on making it a success. She’d replaced a lot of the breakable hot sellers, and found even more she loved at the collectors around town, going out a bit farther than she had when she first opened her store to find new places.

  She also had a bunch of people around Wickwood come to her to sell valuables, way more than usual. There’d been a boom in the real estate market, and a large number of people moving out of the city. People were scared. Some had seen demons crawling out of Hell. Others denied it happen, claiming a hoax. Either way, unease plagued the citizens of Wickwood.