Corruption

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Corruption Page 11

by Jennifer Blackstream


  “Wait a minute, who’s wiping information from our system?” Andy asked sharply.

  I cleared my throat. “We’re veering off topic. What I’m saying is, he can compare the bullet. We don’t even need the scanner.”

  “He’s hacking the Van— No, wait.” Gary held up a hand. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Silence.” Andy stared at the technomancer. “That’s not a real name, is it? It’s his handle.”

  “Handle?” Jean echoed. She squinted at Silence. “Agent Bradford, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. He’s got no love handles.” She gestured at the technomancer. “He’s hardly got an ounce of fat on him!”

  Andy’s eye twitched. “A handle is an online name.” He looked at me, and I could almost hear the rest of that sentence.

  It’s a hacker name.

  I grabbed the Coke off the table, ignoring the satisfied smirk on Josephine’s face. “Lorelei is in the living room, Gary, we can start whenever you’re ready.”

  “You can use the patio, dear,” Jean offered.

  Something in her tone roused my suspicion. It was the same tone she’d used to tell me to come in right before I’d gotten doused with a bucket of water. “Jean, I hope there aren’t any surprises waiting for us.” I hefted the BB gun. “Anything unpleasant might interfere with my attempts to convince Agent Bradford not to confiscate your gun.”

  Andy’s resting face already looked somewhat fierce, so it didn’t take him a second to slip on his FBI warning expression. “You assaulted a police officer. That’s a serious charge.”

  Jean folded her fingers over her belly and cleared her throat. “I’ll go make sure the patio is tidy. I’ll be right back.”

  She scurried through the house, and after a moment, I heard the sounds of something heavy being moved over the floor, then a banging, and something that sounded like bucketful of dry corn kernels. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the old girl had had in store for us. She returned to the dining room, breathing harder than she had before, but still smiling.

  “There,” she said. “All…tidy.”

  “Thank you,” I said warily. After a brief hesitation, I resigned myself to being the first on the scene and led Andy and Gary into the hallway. “We’re ready, Lorelei,” I called over my shoulder.

  The demon appeared behind Andy as if she’d already been on her way when I called to her. She’d fixed her hair in the same style as before, a single small bun on either side of her head, and the white blouse was gone. She took Andy’s arm, clinging to him like a grinning parasite. I had the uncharitable thought she’d tugged the red camisole down until it was scarcely doing its job covering her breasts.

  “She had way more cookies than I did,” Peasblossom whispered in my ear.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Yes. I had maybe three crumbs. She ate all the no bake cookies and I saw her take three of the chocolate chip.”

  Peasblossom had had more than three crumbs. The bit I’d seen her with had been the size of her fist. A crumb to me, but a feast for her. “I don’t think the Brewster sisters will mind.”

  “I know, but I thought it would make you feel better.”

  I tilted my head, trying to see her where she sat on my shoulder. “Why?”

  The pixie put her hand behind her back, trying to hide the chocolate chip. “You said too many cookies will make you sick.”

  I didn’t mention the chocolate chip. “You think I want Lorelei to be sick?”

  Peasblossom snorted. “I think it’s obvious you do.”

  I slowed as I reached the patio, prodding the smooth glass doorknob with the tip of one finger before closing my hand around it. Now that I’d stopped walking and the others had gathered behind me, they were too close for me to continue the conversation with Peasblossom. I opened the door slowly, ready for something to happen. Nothing. I opened the door all the way.

  The Brewster sisters’ patio was an open, rectangular area surrounded by spotless floor to ceiling windows and filled with pale blue wicker furniture. It was after two o’ clock, so the sun was no longer shining directly into the shaded area, giving us plenty of light without the harsh glare. A small circular glass table sat in the corner of the patio, and Gary chose one of the three seats. Andy gestured for Lorelei and me to sit in the remaining two chairs, and he pulled a blue wicker rocker from the other end of the porch to join us.

  “I’ve brought a tea that will help everyone project their spirits to the astral plane,” Gary said, taking out a brushed steel travel thermos. “I have to set up, so Shade, if you would go through the usual precautions and warnings?”

  “I do not need a lesson in the astral plane,” Lorelei said, waving a hand.

  “But you’re not the only one in the room,” Gary said shortly, “so perhaps you could let Mother Renard get on with it for Agent Bradford’s benefit?”

  Lorelei locked her gaze on Gary, studying him as if she hadn’t taken a good look before. Her catlike eyes narrowed in uncharitable scrutiny. “Careful how you speak to me.”

  Gary ignored her as he kept unloading objects from his bag propped against his chair. The battered leather satchel had seen better days, and had been stitched up in at least three places I could see. He removed a small earthen cup that was older than the Brewster sisters’ house, a small rabbit skin, and a pale lavender candle.

  “It is my understanding you wish to be exorcised,” he said, laying out the pale white rabbit’s fur.

  “I wish to be freed,” Lorelei corrected him. She straightened her spine like a queen granting an audience to commoners.

  “And it has been difficult for you to find someone who can help free you?” Gary continued.

  Lorelei wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yes. Doesn’t it figure that the exorcists who considered themselves such a threat to me, so superior, would now stand by twiddling their thumbs and crying that they can’t help poor Laurie. Where is their power now?”

  “And you found someone who could do it, and now they’re dead.”

  She closed her fists around the arms of her seat until the wicker groaned. “What is your point?”

  Gary struck a match and lit the candle. The scent of lavender wafted from the scented wax, stronger that it should have been. “Either you are lying about wanting the exorcism and you had something to do with the murders, or you need to find someone else who can perform the exorcism.”

  “So?” Lorelei snapped.

  “So,” Gary said, setting the candle in the center of the rabbit fur. “If I were you, I’d be careful how I talked to me.” He met her eyes. “Unless you know someone else who is willing to try again?”

  Lorelei tensed. “You think you can get me out of this body?”

  Gary straightened in his seat. “That’s what we’re going to find out.” He unscrewed the lid to the travel thermos and poured the tea into the earthenware cup.

  An herbal scent curled around my nose on a cloud of steam, plunging into my sinuses far enough to tickle my brain. I stifled a sneeze. “Sinicuichi?”

  Gary nodded. “Strong, I know, but it’s the easiest way for someone unfamiliar with the astral plane to get there.”

  That reminded me of the warning I was supposed to give. I turned to Andy, who was watching Gary set up with calculating interest. “So what will happen now, is you’ll drink some of this tea, then you’ll sit in your seat, close your eyes, and let your mind wander. The astral plane isn’t a physical place, so it won’t be your body that travels there, only your spirit.”

  “Is that tea made from hallucinogenic herbs?” Andy asked. He frowned. “I’m subject to drug testing at work, I can’t drink it if it is.”

  “It’s not hallucinogenic,” I promised. “This is a tea to stimulate your other senses, let you project yourself more easily. Just let your mind wander, Gary will guide you.”

  “How?” Andy asked.

  Gary smiled. The sanctimonious young man who’d arrived gave way to the shaman I knew, the on
e who had a gift, whatever his heritage. “Trust me, Agent Bradford. I may look more like the Scots who gave birth to me than the Native people who adopted me, but I promise you, I took my training seriously. I would not offer to perform a service I didn’t believe I was capable of. Trust me.”

  “And when we get there, what do we do?”

  “It will appear much the same as where we are now,” Gary assured him. “I will do my best to make it reflect the familiar.”

  “The astral plane isn’t physical, so those who are familiar with it can manipulate it to suit their needs,” I explained. “When Gary tells you to open your eyes, you’ll open them, and it will be like you’re still sitting here on the Brewsters’ patio. Only it will be a reflection of this space on the astral plane.”

  “And I’ll be able to see her situation more clearly,” Gary gestured at Lorelei. “If all goes according to plan, you’ll see Laurie’s reflection there, and we can speak together in one conversation.”

  “I need to warn you, though,” I said, “there are dangers on the astral plane. There are creatures who live there, and they seek intruders.”

  “For what purpose?” Andy asked.

  I shifted in my seat, wincing as a sharp piece of wood stabbed me in the calf through my thin leggings. I hated wicker furniture. “Well, some might try to eat you.”

  Andy arched an eyebrow.

  I shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “And there are some who try to reach this plane by possessing the bodies of people projecting their consciousness onto the astral plane.”

  “Possess?” Andy echoed.

  “Well…yes.”

  “How do we stop that from happening?”

  Gary indicated the candle. “A sacred flame.”

  Andy looked at the candle. He didn’t say anything, but the doubt was clear. Hard to trust a candle that smelled like it came from Target.

  “Trust Gary,” I told him. “He knows what he’s doing. All you need to remember is the astral plane is malleable. Don’t let your fear get the better of you, or you can contaminate what Gary’s doing. Stay calm, and have faith.”

  Andy nodded. “All right.”

  “Excellent.” Gary settled back in his seat. “Now, sit in your chair and close your eyes. Concentrate on your breathing, in for the count of seven, out for the count of eight. Just…breathe.”

  We all did as he asked. Deep breath in, deep breath out. As I concentrated on my breathing, Gary began to chant. I didn’t listen to the words, just let the cadence of them roll over me. Slowly, I felt myself rising.

  A myriad of different scents swirled around me in a chaotic mix. Ozone before a thunderstorm. The sweet hint of spring when the first flowers bloom. The bite of winter that precedes the first snow. The crisp aroma of fallen leaves in autumn. And that scent that’s not a scent, the warmth of the sun that announces summer’s return. Each scent held a different promise, and my nerves buzzed with anticipation.

  “You can open your eyes now.”

  I blinked. Gary had done an impressive job. If not for the pulse of energy all around me and those swirling scents in the air, I might not have realized we’d traveled at all. I was still sitting inside the Brewster sisters’ indoor patio, still seated in a blue wicker chair at a glass table.

  “Shade.”

  Andy’s tone made me turn, and I followed to where he pointed out the window, toward the graveyard. The graveyard didn’t look as similar to reality as the porch, but that wasn’t Gary’s fault. In truth, this version of the graveyard was a much more accurate representation of the space than the physical plane could ever be. The neatly mowed grass had erupted in front of three graves, spilling broken bits of coffin and trails of dirt. Some tombstones lay in piles of rubble, covered in green slime.

  “Those graves weren’t broken before,” Andy said.

  “This is an old graveyard. Chances are, it’s seen its fair share of post-mortem activity.”

  “Like what?”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose. The scent of decay poisoned the fresh aroma of moments ago and I shifted uneasily in my seat.

  “Agent Bradford,” Gary said. “I would be happy to answer your question later. But for now, please don’t discuss what you see beyond this patio.”

  “Why?” Caution infused his tone now, and his hand twitched toward his gun.

  “This plane is soaked with magic,” I whispered. “You can make something happen without meaning to. Just by thinking it. Saying it.”

  The shadows in the graveyard shifted. Andy leaned closer, squinting at the writhing tendrils of darkness. I grabbed his arm. “Don’t look at them.”

  Andy jerked his head away from the window, staring hard at the candle flame. Gary said something to him, but I didn’t hear what it was. I was too busy staring at Andy’s arm.

  His arm looked perfectly normal, dark blue suit jacket, no wrinkles except for where I held it. But I’d felt something. Something wispy and sticky, like cobwebs. I pushed past the limits of my normal vision, letting my sense of touch tell me what was there despite my eyes’ refusal. There. Grey mist so thick it clung to my fingers shivered around Andy’s body, never moving more than a millimeter above his suit.

  A psychic shield. I stared, mesmerized. I’d seen psychic shields on humans before, but usually they were formed under a witch’s guidance. This shield was natural, primitive and probably subconsciously created. I remembered the scars on Andy’s back and upper arms. Whatever had happened to him had been bad enough that his mind had sought to protect him from the worst of it. The mental ramifications.

  “Is his arm so much more fascinating than me?” Lorelei asked, her tone icy. “Me, the one you claim you’re so keen to help?”

  I snapped my attention away from Andy’s arm, not meeting his questioning gaze. Later. I’d think about those shields later.

  Laurie and Lorelei sat side by side. Laurie looked as she had on the physical plane, brown hair falling around her shoulders, white blouse buttoned up to cover the blood red camisole. But she wasn’t awake. Her eyes were closed and her head rested on Lorelei’s shoulder. Her chest rose and fell, but her breathing was too shallow, and sweat glistened at her temples.

  Lorelei was not the same. On the astral plane she didn’t wear Laurie’s body, was no longer a being trapped inside another, hidden by their flesh. Instead, she appeared in her full demonic glory. Red eyes too big for her face gazed back at me, surrounded by a fall of red hair thick with both the smell and color of old blood. Her mottled peach-hued skin resembled melted wax, not wrinkled, but rippling, as if it had been turned to liquid stirred, and left to harden. She wore no clothes, nothing to impede the enormous wings spread behind her in flaps of darker flesh. The demon didn’t spare her paladin counterpart a glance before focusing on Andy. Her heavy, sagging breasts swung forward as she leaned closer to the FBI agent, a smile curling her too-wide mouth, revealing sharp teeth.

  “See anything you like?” she purred.

  Andy’s face remained blank, but his eyes followed the lines of Lorelei’s wings. He didn’t move, didn’t reach for his gun, or scoot his chair away from the demon. But there was something about his stillness that suggested he might want to. He was doing well for someone seeing a demon’s true visage for the first time.

  I was about to say something, when I noticed that when Lorelei moved the arm opposite Andy, Laurie’s arm moved. I leaned back in my chair to peer underneath the table to confirm my suspicion. “Lorelei, you and Laurie are holding hands. Why?”

  Lorelei glanced at me, then raised her hand, her fingers interlocked with the unconscious paladin. She frowned and tried to move her fingers, but her hand remained entwined with Laurie’s. “I can’t let go.” She tugged, and her brow furrowed, the lustful glitter fleeing her eyes.

  “Hold up your hands,” Gary told her.

  She did, and Laurie’s hand came with hers, their fingers interlaced.

  “And you can’t move your fingers at all?” Gary asked.


  Lorelei concentrated harder. Her fingers moved, but Laurie held fast.

  “Laurie,” I said. “Laurie, can you hear me?”

  Laurie said nothing, didn’t stir, didn’t open her eyes.

  “That’s not right. Even if she’s sleeping, she should be able to answer me here. Right?”

  Gary laid a finger on Laurie’s forehead. A pulse of energy rolled out from him, culminating around Laurie. The woodsy scent of a campfire tickled my nose, and I thought I heard a strong wind blowing through thick trees. The shaman’s power filled the air around us, and Gary’s green eyes shone like sunlight on fresh spring leaves as he studied Laurie.

  “I can see her.” His voice dropped to a low tone that echoed with power. “She’s unconscious. Buried too deep inside her body to hear the call to the astral plane.”

  “Is she hurt or hiding?” I asked.

  “It is not a natural sleep. Something heavy is holding her down.” He bowed his head. His chest rose in deep, even breaths, and when he looked around again, his eyes were back to normal, and his voice no longer held that strange echo. “When was the last time you spoke with Laurie?”

  “Today,” Andy answered. “An hour ago.”

  “And has anything happened since then?” Gary looked at me. “Any curse or spell?”

  “Not that I saw,” I said, thinking over the day’s events. “As far as I know, the only magic users around her were me and Thomas. And Thomas is still a beginner magically-speaking, he couldn’t have done this if he wanted to.”

  “Someone shot her,” Andy pointed out. “Could that have done it?”

  Gary addressed Lorelei. “How do you feel?”

  For once the demon didn’t seem inclined to be difficult. She tried again to let go of Laurie’s hand, then pressed her lips into a thin line. “I feel fine. But I want to let go.” She glared at their entwined fingers, and something about her expression made her more alien, more…dangerous. As if she was considering gnawing off the limb. “If I could let go, I could go home. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  “Possibly. Possibly not.” Gary leaned over to touch their entwined hands, probing as if trying to see if he could slide his finger between them. “What you see is not an objective manifestation of your situation. This is simply how it presented itself to my psychic senses.”

 

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