Corruption

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Corruption Page 4

by Jennifer Blackstream


  “No.”

  “And who knew about it?” Andy pressed.

  Thomas narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I like what you’re insinuating.”

  “I’m not insinuating anything,” Andy said. “I’m asking, politely, if you would mind sticking around while we chat with Laurie and Father Salvatore.” He looked at me for confirmation of the other priest’s name and I nodded.

  “Fine.” The younger priest stalked toward the side door. “Let’s have this talk then. And hopefully we’ll have you on your way so the people who know what they’re doing can deal with this.”

  Andy kept his face a composed mask as we fell into step behind the irritated priest.

  “He wasn’t wrong,” I said quietly. “About the danger. Maybe it would be best if I handled this case on my own.”

  “From what he said, you’re no more qualified than I am,” Andy pointed out.

  I frowned. “Perhaps, but—”

  “Let’s talk to Laurie first, find out what happened. Then we’ll go from there.”

  I didn’t believe for a second he had any intention of leaving the case to me to solve alone, but I didn’t argue. Yet. Instead, I replaced the dagger and bottle of holy water in my coat pockets and exited the church via the side door.

  The church didn’t have a large yard, squeezed as it was by the surrounding city, but the small square of grass it had was well-maintained. There was even a carved stone bench and a semi circle of potted flowers where one could sit in quiet reflection.

  A woman sat there now, next to Father Salvatore. She wore robes almost identical to those worn by the paladins inside, but hers were a shade of cream instead of pure white, and she didn’t have a sword. Her brown hair hung to her shoulders in disarray, and tears streamed from her closed eyes. She sat with her face tilted skyward, her lips moving as if in prayer.

  Father Salvatore glanced up at us as we approached. He eased off the bench, careful not to disturb the crying woman, and approached us.

  “She is not ready to speak to you,” he said quietly. “I would appreciate it if you did not interfere.”

  “Was she part of the exorcism too?” I asked.

  Father Salvatore frowned. “Yes. But that is a church matter, I would ask that you leave it to me and Thomas.”

  The younger priest smirked.

  “Laurie called me,” I reminded him. “The exorcism failed. If there’s someone running around Cleveland with a demon inside them, I need to know.”

  The creases around Father Salvatore’s mouth deepened. “Yes, Laurie confirmed that she called you. But with all due respect, Ms. Renard, you are a witch, not a paladin. I don’t see what help you’ll be against a demon. Do you work for the Ministry of Deliverance?”

  I hesitated. Technically, I had worked for the Vanguard before, though my involvement had ended at activating a suppression collar on a werewolf. And I hadn’t worked for the Ministry of Deliverance specifically.

  “I’ve worked for the organization, yes. Regardless, it seems if Laurie called me, then she wants me on this investigation. If she was a part of the exorcism team, and those are her colleagues lying dead in there, then she has every right to request my assistance. This is no longer just a possession, it’s a murder. A double homicide, in fact.”

  Something passed through the priest’s eyes, but it disappeared before I could identify it.

  “’Just a possession,’” he repeated. “I do not believe you are ready for the task you wish to take on.”

  “I’m a witch,” I said. “I’m ready for anything.” I walked away before he could respond, approaching Laurie with quiet caution. “Laurie?” I asked, softly so I didn’t startle her.

  “You must be Mother Renard.” She didn’t open her eyes.

  “Yes. You called me?”

  “Corban and Christophe are dead,” she whispered. “They’re dead and it’s my fault. I failed again. I wasn’t strong enough. Again.” Her head fell, her chin striking her chest. A sob wrenched its way out of her throat, and she bent over, folding her body in half.

  I’d never exorcised a demon from a person before. It wasn’t what I’d trained for, and that branch of magic required specialized skills and study, along with a dedication to a pure life that was beyond me. Even without my past. I understood the scope of what Laurie had attempted to do, and I respected her for it.

  “You can’t blame yourself. You know what self-doubt can mean for an exorcism. Keep your faith, in yourself and your god. I will find who did this.” I put a hand on her back. “Can you tell me what kind of demon you were trying to exorcise?” I glanced at Peasblossom where the pixie perched in one of the potted plants. She shook her head. She still didn’t sense evil in the vicinity. “Laurie, what happened to the victim? Where is the demon now?”

  The paladin choked on another sob, but then closed her hands into fists. She drew a deep, shuddering breath, and I watched her pull herself together. She straightened, and opened her eyes. When she turned to face me, my heart stopped.

  Red irises glinted at me over a mouth curled into a sickle-shaped grin. “I’m right here.”

  Chapter 3

  Peasblossom let out a shriek and dove down the back of my shirt where she latched on to my bra strap and held on. I ignored the discomfort of the pixie lump against my spine, unwilling to take my attention off the creature staring at me from Laurie’s face. My pulse pounded hard enough I was sure the demon would see the twitch of skin above my throat.

  This isn’t possible. Peasblossom didn’t sense evil.

  “You’re not a paladin,” the demon said. Her voice lacked Laurie’s lilting Italian accent. Instead it sounded lower, sinister and tempting all at once. She took in my leggings, vibrant red trench coat, and cheap black slouch boots. I’d opened the coat, and her eyebrows rose at the sight of my waist pouch. “Is that a fanny pack?”

  I swallowed the urge to defend my choice in equipment management and tightened my grip on the dagger’s hilt. Demon-possessed humans shrugged off physical damage faster than lycanthropes, but the blessed dagger would at least buy me some time. If it came to that.

  “Hello. I’m Shade Renard. Mother Renard.” I slid the dagger up the sleeve of my coat, hiding it from sight as best I could. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

  “You’re a witch?” Laurie’s brow furrowed, and her irises lost their glow, dying to a flat crimson. “What is a witch doing here?”

  Peasblossom trembled, her wings brushing the skin of my back just enough to give me a terrible itch. I rolled my shoulder, trying to move my bra strap enough to scratch it. Behind me, Andy remained still. Waiting.

  “Laurie called me,” I answered calmly.

  Laurie’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” She looked down at her body and stiffened. “Wait a minute. No. No, this is not right. I remain with the paladin.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and she glared at Thomas. “This is your doing. What’s the matter, boy? Couldn’t say goodbye to your mentor?”

  “I would never dishonor Laurie by going against her wishes,” Thomas bit out. “If you did this, then I will make you pay.”

  The demon snorted. “You won’t lay a finger on me in this body.” Mischief lifted the corner of her mouth, and she slanted a sly glance at the young priest. “Well, not in anger. But if you’re nice, I might consider letting you see even more of your precious mentor. Much more.”

  The young priest gritted his teeth and drew the dagger from the sheath at his wrist. Andy shifted his weight, angling himself to keep both the armed youth and the demon-possessed woman in front of him. He kept his hand near his gun, but didn’t draw it.

  “Your reliance on a dagger is charmingly Freudian,” the demon teased him. “But it is as likely to be of use to you as the body part it represents.” She turned away from the younger priest, dismissing him as she faced Father Salvatore. “Where are Corban and Christophe? Have they failed already? Given up before they began?”

  The old man’s mouth tightened a
t the corners, and he peered at the demon over the top of his glasses. “You will pretend you don’t know what has happened?”

  Laurie waited for him to offer more information. When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes. “Your penchant for dramatics has no place here, shepherd. What has happened? Why am I not in Hell?”

  “Perhaps we could start with proper introductions?” I suggested. “I’m Mother Shade Renard. You—”

  “I do not care who you are,” the demon snapped. “Why am I here? Did the exorcism fail? Did they even attempt it as they promised?”

  “Who are you?” I asked again. I stepped in front of the demon this time, forcing her to look at me.

  The red glow returned to her irises in a glossy shine. “You are annoying me, but I will do you the favor of assuming you are not so foolish as to ask for my true name. You may call me Lorelei.” She leaned around me to address Father Salvatore, fixing the priest with a glare. “Where are the twins, and why am I still imprisoned inside this woman?” She gestured at her body.

  “You don’t know what’s happened?” I asked.

  She ignored me, addressing Father Salvatore. “Why am I waking up on the property of this crumbling, pathetic excuse for a church instead of the glory of Hell? This is not what we agreed on.”

  Thomas took a breath, the dark expression on his face promising a tirade against the demon and her disrespect toward the church and its resident priest.

  Father Salvatore held up a finger, silencing him. He fixed the demon with a stare that should have driven her back to Hell all on its own, and the gold cross hanging from the rosary at his side seemed to glitter all the brighter with the flex of his aura. “Do you pretend you do not know what you’ve done?”

  The demon stood and anchored her hands on her hips, creasing the thick robes emblazoned with the sign of the cross. “I have done what I said I would do. I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, and my reward for that restraint was to be a return to my home.” She sneered down at the robes and took her hands off her hips, as if the feel of the material disgusted her.

  Thomas’ jaw tightened as she fought free of the robes, pulling them off to reveal a plain pair of blue jeans and a white blouse over a red camisole. She attacked the blouse’s buttons as if resisting the urge to tear the garment from her body.

  “Instead,” she continued. “I am here with you, trapped inside this miserable, whining, ghost of a paladin.” She pulled off the blouse and threw it to the ground. The red camisole looked as if it had been made for a teenager, not a full grown woman, and a deep breath on Lorelei’s part would render it indecent. “Was this your doing? Did you call it off?” She waved at the church. “Or did the miraculous twins fail? Were their promises empty of any true power, to the point their attempt at an exorcism was so weak that I did not even feel it?”

  “What do you remember?” I asked. I bent to retrieve her blouse from the ground, using it to hide the dagger as I let it fall out of my sleeve. Andy caught my eye as I straightened, glancing from the dagger to Lorelei, to me. I shook my head. No danger yet. Just caution. “What bargain are you talking about?” I asked Lorelei.

  “Answer my questions!” The demon’s glare encompassed me and the priests. “I was promised freedom, starting today. Instead I am here, being pestered by a witch. What. Happened?”

  “Answer my questions, and I will answer yours,” I responded.

  “Answer our questions, or we’ll tie you up and lay you out on the altar for a round of blessings,” Thomas snapped. “We’ll see how you like a night with holy objects draped over you.”

  “You would threaten me?” Lorelei stalked toward the paladin, a slinking walk that drew attention to the swells of her hips. “I grow tired of your threats, young one.” She straightened her spine and tugged on the camisole to drag it further down as she pushed her breasts out. “I think it’s time I helped you work through some of this energy you insist on channeling into impotent anger.”

  Lorelei wasn’t a well-endowed woman, but the camisole accented her chest more than it covered, and I winced as the young priest’s eyes fell to her bare skin. Neither Father Salvatore nor I interfered. If Thomas wanted to be a paladin he needed to stand against the demon on his own.

  “You disgust me,” the priest ground out. “You are nothing more than an infection, a parasite on Laurie’s soul. Someday you will return to the pit of filth you call home, and Laurie will go to share God’s glory for eternity.”

  Lorelei’s hand shot out, as quick as a snake striking. Her fingers closed around Thomas’ manhood, squeezing as she leaned closer. The priest sucked in a breath, his face flushing red and a strangled gasp wrenching from his throat. Andy gripped his gun, and Father Salvatore lifted his rosary, sliding his fingers over the smooth, white beads.

  “I don’t think I disgust you,” Lorelei whispered. “And I don’t think you were as ready to see your precious mentor go to God as you claim. If I find out you thwarted that exorcism out of some pathetic attempt to keep Laurie with you, I will end you.”

  Lorelei blocked my view of Thomas’ right arm, so I didn’t see him raise the dagger as he fell back a step, putting more space between him and the demon. All I saw was Lorelei’s body jerk, her hand closing over her cheek as she cried out in pain. Blood seeped between her fingers from the long cut on her cheek.

  “Thomas,” she gasped. “How could you do this? How could you let her trick you into attacking me?”

  The sound of the rolling Italian accent drained the blood from the young priest’s face, his triumph melting into horror. “Laurie?”

  The paladin drew her hand away from her face, letting the sunlight hit the blood smeared over her fingers, making it shine like melted rubies. Tears slid down her cheeks, drawing pale lines through the blood oozing from the cut as she faced the priest. “You are ashamed of me, aren’t you? Because I failed.”

  “Laurie, I’m sorry.” His face twisted in pain, and he dropped the dagger. “I would never hurt you. But the demon…” He trailed off.

  I looked at Father Salvatore, but his attention remained fixed on the other priest. He raised the rosary, fingers sliding over the beads, and his lips moved as he prayed, his words too quiet to hear. I popped the cork on the holy water.

  “It’s all right, Thomas,” Laurie said softly. “I am ashamed too. I don’t even remember what happened, it’s all a blur.” She lifted her chin even as her voice trembled. “Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me why am I still here, trapped with this creature inside me?”

  Thomas stiffened, the hand he’d been raising toward the cut on Laurie’s face halting an inch from her skin. I watched realization dawn, and part of me felt sorry for him. The demon had tricked him.

  In that moment, I knew two things. First, Thomas had feelings for Laurie that he hadn’t admitted to himself. It wasn’t surprising, I’d seen many mentor/mentee relationships skew in a romantic direction. And second, he hadn’t been as ready to say goodbye as he might have believed.

  To his credit, the paladin kept his temper. The demon had humiliated him in front of two strangers and his superior in the church hierarchy, but he didn’t crumble. Instead, he brushed a lock of hair behind Lorelei’s ear, pulling his mouth into a gentle smile.

  “Tell me what you remember,” he said. “I will help you fill in the blanks.”

  Lorelei cupped Thomas’ cheek. “I remember thinking that I should have kissed you goodbye.”

  She rose on her tiptoes, pressing her breasts against his chest and parting her lips as she brought them closer to his. A split second before she closed the distance between them, Thomas snarled and shoved her back, hard.

  A laugh bubbled from her throat as she stumbled away. “Pity,” she said. “You should have taken the kiss. It’s as close as you’ll ever get to the relationship you truly want with her.” She raised her hands to her hair and coiled the shoulder-length brown locks into mini buns at the top of either side of her head, twisting and tucking the hair in a way
that somehow made them stay in place. The new style bared her neck, and more of her shoulders, until she looked half naked.

  Thomas flushed as he retrieved the dagger from the ground where he’d dropped it. His knuckles turned white, and he squared his shoulders as he faced Lorelei with grim determination. Andy stepped forward, not putting himself between the two, but drawing their attention.

  “So, are you a succubus?” he asked Lorelei.

  I covered my mouth, smothering a laugh. I didn’t know if Andy had meant to offend Lorelei or not, but it was funny regardless.

  Lorelei’s lip curled in a sneer. “A succubus? A succubus? You dare to compare me to those simpering waifs?”

  “She better hope no succubi heard her say that,” Peasblossom said from under my shirt.

  I had to agree. Succubi had a reputation for being lovers, not fighters, but I’d seen one angry before. Lorelei obviously hadn’t.

  “I am no succubi,” Lorelei corrected him. She smiled at Andy, sauntering toward him with the same, hip-rolling gait she’d used to stalk Thomas. “I am a dybbuk. And what’s your name, handsome?”

  I gripped the dagger harder through the thin material of the blouse. Father Salvatore went to stand beside Thomas, not speaking to the younger priest, but holding his rosary out to catch his eye. Thomas tightened his hold on the dagger, but after a tense moment, he replaced the weapon in its sheath. Following Father Salvatore’s lead, he retrieved a rosary from his pocket, and began praying under his breath, thumb pressing the beads. I couldn’t help but notice the bright paint on Thomas’ beads, a sharp contrast to the faded quality of Father Salvatore’s. I guessed Thomas favored serving God in a more active, violent fashion, as opposed to prayer and quiet service.

  “Agent Bradford, FBI.” Andy studied the demon as if trying to see inside her. “What’s a dybbuk?”

  “There are hundreds of different types of demon,” I told him. “A dybbuk is a possessing demon. They live in Hell in their own society, but they gain social status by possessing creatures with a great deal of power. The more power, the more prestige.”

 

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