Let Sleeping Demons Lie

by Amy Sumida

  “I wanted that for you too,” I whispered.

  “I know,” Toby said as the heat of his body moved closer.

  I reached out and found his arm. Toby lifted his other hand to take mine.

  “We tried to be apart, and fate brought us back together,” he said. “I refuse to fight it anymore. My heart can't take losing you again.”

  “Right back atcha,” I said. “But I suppose I can see their point.”

  “I can as well,” he said. “Especially after all we went through to separate ourselves. But I've explained it to them over and over, and they refuse to see things from my perspective. It's turned into an argument.”

  “I don't want to be a wedge between you and your parents,” I said softly. “I love all of you.”

  “And they love you too, Vervain,” he assured me. “As I said; this isn't personal. They know you can't change your situation, and they don't expect you to. They've got it into their heads that we made a choice to reunite, and so we could simply decide to separate again.”

  “Technically that's true,” I said. “But the reality of it is much more complicated.”

  “Exactly,” Toby said. “Once we held each other again—once our love returned in full measure—it became nearly impossible for us to push each other away.”

  I leaned against his chest, and Toby's hand slid up my arm, over my shoulder, and beneath my chin. He lifted my face to his and set his lips gently over mine. The scent of his water magic rose around us; clearing away the stench in the room until it felt as if we were in his cave again, just past the waterfall, laying on the bank of a freshwater stream as we kissed languidly. My hands slid up into his thick, long hair, and he pulled me closer. The passion sparked between us as it always did, but Toby tempered my fire with his water and brought us back to a slow simmer. I dove into that kiss with him and let it float me down the river steadily until I felt my Moon rise inside me and grab hold of Toby's water. He inhaled sharply—breathing me in—and then yanked my body against his. I felt his manhood respond to my nearness, and I was about to slip my hand into his pants when Toby pushed me away.

  “Vervain,” his voice was low and throaty, “we can't do this here.”

  “Damn; you're right,” I said as I settled the Moon back in place within my nine-pointed star. “I'm sorry.”

  We split apart completely and returned to our search.

  “Don't apologize.” He chuckled—that possessive male sound that spoke volumes; every one of them about sex. “I was enjoying it as much as you. But this is hardly the place for romance.”

  “It's not as if we haven't had sex in inopportune conditions before,” I pointed out teasingly.

  “That's very true, but—” Toby paused. Then he called out, “Vervain!”

  I turned to see a crucifix floating over the bed.

  “Look at this,” Toby shook the crucifix. “Do you think it belonged to a priest?”

  “Could be,” I went toward the item. “Or maybe it was Felisa's. Let me have a look.”

  I grabbed the floating crucifix and, instantly, one scent differentiated itself from the others. I took a deeper sniff and the scent became color; my dragon taking over to track whoever held the crucifix last.

  “I have their trail,” I said. “If it belongs to a household member, it should lead us to them, and if it doesn't, it should lead us to the murderer.”

  Toby took my hand, and we hurried out of the bedroom together.

  Chapter Five

  Usually, when I track someone, it's a god. Gods travel by Aether mostly which means that at some point, they trace away and I end up having to ask Torrent to open a vein of Internet so we could follow the trail. But this time, I didn't need Torrent.

  I did, however, need a car. Luckily, that wasn't a problem. Since I was our tracker, I had the car keys for the minivan we'd rented. If anyone else had found a clue, they still would have needed to find me to help them with it. I wasn't leaving them in the lurch either; the rest of them could trace back to Eztli's villa when they were done. We didn't bother trying to find the others in the massive house; it would have taken far too long, and just because I'd found a lead, it didn't mean that there weren't more lying around. They needed to keep searching. So, Toby and I hurried out of the house together and down to the minivan.

  We dropped our invisibility spells as soon as we reached the car, and I handed Toby the keys. I needed to concentrate on the trail. Dragon senses were the most powerful of all the shifters; even the Froekn, who were known as the best trackers in the God World. I had no problem picking up the trail on the road and directing Toby on how to follow it. It was second nature; as easy as breathing.

  What wasn't easy was following the trail to its end. It led us to Florence. You wouldn't think that would be a problem, but it was; especially for our minivan. The streets of Florence are narrow and, in some places, nonexistent. We couldn't follow the trail down a side alley because our car wouldn't fit, and when we tried to look for parking, it became quickly evident that you had to have the luck of the Devil to find a space. Despite Luke's good wishes, we didn't seem to have received it.

  We ended up driving out of Florence, parking the van on the side of the road, and then walking in. It was a long hike, and by the time we'd found our destination, I was so hungry that I was hangry. But it hardly seemed appropriate to stop at one of the delicious smelling cafes for a bite to eat. So, I forced myself to trudge on; up a narrow flight of steps within an apartment building that looked as if it were built back when turning on a light required the use of a candle. But it had been built to last and was now home to numerous families. People bustled past us giving us suspicious glances until Toby and I decided to go invisible again.

  We came to the end of the trail at an apartment door, and I realized that I had no plan. Should we just burst in? Should we knock? Whoever was behind that door had been one of the last people to see Alan alive—in a way. But that didn't mean that he or she was guilty. I'd hate to terrorize an innocent person.

  “Let's try talking first,” Toby said as he became visible. “If that doesn't work, we'll take them into the God Realm for a more thorough conversation.”

  “All right,” I agreed as I revealed myself too.

  Unfortunately, I hadn't seen the little old lady hobbling down the stairs behind us; decked head to toe in black. She screeched when I made my sudden appearance and ran past us at a speed she hadn't looked capable of; making the sign of the cross and muttering something in Italian as she clutched her lace kerchief tightly.

  Toby chuckled and shook his head, but it reminded me of something that might pose a huge problem; neither of us spoke Italian.

  “I hope this person speaks English,” I said to Toby as I knocked.

  After a few minutes, the door opened and a young man peered quizzically out at us. He was in his early thirties; blond, with lightly tanned skin and dark eyes. He squinted those eyes at us before pulling a pair of wire-rimmed glassed down from the top of his head. Then he blinked he through the lenses and frowned.”

  “Ciao, come posso aiutarla?” He asked.

  “Do you speak English?” I countered.

  “Si, you are American?” He looked over at Toby with interest. “Native American?”

  “That's right,” Toby said with a smile. “I'm about as Native American as they come.”

  “In a way,” I muttered to him, and Toby grimaced at me.

  After so many years of living among and working with humans, most gods thought of themselves as the race they'd aligned with. For those who had become deeply attached to their followers—like Toby—it went beyond racial links and became a family situation. Toby really did see himself as a Navajo, and he resented any implication that he wasn't. In a way, I agreed with him—which is why I had used those words. I thought that Toby deserved to identify himself as such; he'd become Navajo in the way that people who move to an area become local—he'd immersed himself so deeply in the Navajo culture and had acted so
often on their behalf that he was now one of them. However, his true ancestry was Atlantean.

  “How fascinating,” the man declared. “What do a couple of Native Americans want with me?”

  “Oh, I'm not... well, actually, I am part... you know what; never mind.” I shook my head. “We'd like to talk to you about Felisa Bianchi. Can we come in?”

  “Ms. Bianchi?” The man's eyes went wide, and he backed up. “I heard that she's recovered. They told me she's fine.”

  “She is,” I said quickly, with a glance at Toby. “We just had a few questions for you.”

  “I did all that I could for her, but I'm only a student,” he stammered. “She needed a real exorcist.”

  “You're an exorcist?” I asked in surprise.

  “I'm a priest,” he corrected. “The Catholic Church doesn't employ a lot of exorcists these days.”

  “Sure.” I smirked.

  “It's not a skill that's encouraged. Most of the Church will say they believe in possession but they don't,” he explained. “But Ms. Bianchi is an... how you say? Upstanding society member?”

  “She's rich,” I concluded. “Did her family donate a lot of money to the Church in exchange for an exorcism?”

  “Si,” he admitted with a grimace. “But all of the experienced priests were out of the country. They sent me.” He sighed deeply and went to sit in a faded floral chair by the window. His hand strayed to the window ledge; specifically, the priest's collar set upon it. “I admit that I didn't believe in demonic possession until I met Ms. Bianchi.”

  Toby lifted his brows at me and stepped into the apartment. The guy seemed willing to talk even though he hadn't actually invited us in. I followed Toby inside and quietly closed the door behind us. Then I went over to the man—the priest—and held out the crucifix.

  “Is this yours, Father... ?”

  “Father Adami,” he supplied absently as his gaze fixed on the crucifix. “Si, that's mine.”

  He didn't reach for it.

  “Would you like it back?”

  He shook his head. “Please, take it with you. I can't bear to see it again.”

  I exchanged a surprised look with Toby and then passed him the crucifix. Toby tucked the crucifix into his jacket and then pulled a wooden chair over for me; setting it right before the priest.

  “Okay,” I said gently as I took the seat. “Could you tell me what happened?”

  “Are you a believer, Ms... ?” He blinked as if he'd just realized that he had let two strangers into his home.

  “I'm Vervain,” I said. “This is my boyfriend, Toby.”

  “Oh, hello,” he said with a little smile; automatically relaxing as if knowing our names made us friends.

  “Hello,” I said with a soft smile. “I am a believer. I probably believe in far more than you do, Father Adami. I've seen proof.”

  “So have I,” he whispered fanatically as leaned toward me. “I've seen the Devil, Vervain, and he is fearsome.”

  “I've seen him too, Father,” I managed to say it without smiling. “He does exist. So, you tried to cast him out of Felisa?”

  “I did,” he said sadly. “I tried every prayer that I know. I splashed her with holy water and called on our Lord for guidance and protection. But nothing worked. The Devil laughed at me, and the things he said.” Father Adami stopped to shiver. “I could not repeat them; not ever.”

  “It was only you?” I asked. “No one was helping you?”

  “Si; just me,” he confirmed. “But I failed. I have been hiding here in shame and fear; praying nearly constantly for Ms. Bianchi's soul.”

  “So, if you didn't free her, then who did?” Toby asked.

  “I don't know.” Adami shook his head. “I have called the family every day to check on Ms. Bianchi. Yesterday, no one answered, but today they told me that she has been saved; the demon was cast back to Hell.”

  “They didn't tell you who exorcised the demon?” I asked.

  “They said that God sent them an angel,” Adami murmured reverently. “I would have been skeptical before this, but after all I've seen and how hard I've prayed, I believe that God did intercede and send the Bianchis help.”

  “An actual angel?” I asked. “Or could they have meant that in a more figurative way; as in a man who seemed as if he were sent from God because he was able to exorcise the demon?”

  “It could be the latter,” he agreed. “God has many ways of helping us. But I have this feeling.” His face went peaceful as he looked out of the window and up to the sky as if he could see Jerry looming there. “I know that God heard me; he heard all of us, and he sent an angel to free Felisa.”

  “From what I know of... God, it's possible,” I said as I gave his hand a pat. “Thank you for speaking with us, Father. You've been very helpful.”

  “You're welcome.” He looked back at me. “Why did you need to know all of this?”

  “I have a friend who is possessed,” I said as I stood. “I was hoping to find someone to help him.”

  “But... didn't the Bianchi's give you my crucifix?” He frowned as he tried to work it all out. “Why didn't they tell you of the exorcist who helped them?”

  “Thank you again, Father,” I said as I hurried out the door with Toby.

  Before Father Adami could follow us, Toby and I traced back to the minivan.

  Chapter Six

  “An angel?” Odin asked. “Is that what they told you two?” He looked at Horus and Morpheus with obvious annoyance.

  Toby and I had driven back to Eztli's villa and found the others there, waiting for us. Our impostor detectives were in the middle of recounting their conversation with Felisa's family when Toby and I walked in. The attention shifted to us immediately. The lateness of our arrival and the fact that we'd taken the minivan implied that we'd found a trail, and they wanted to know who we'd tracked. Especially since everyone else had come up empty-handed.

  So, Horus had to pause his report while Toby and I told everyone about Father Adami.

  “As I was saying,” Horus said imperiously. “The family had nearly given up hope after the priest left, and then”—Horus looked down at his little, black detective notebook and read from it as if he were an actual detective—“a knock sounded on the front door and echoed through the house ominously. Mrs. Bianchi went—”

  “Echoed ominously?” Finn chuckled. “Really?”

  “This is why I'm quoting,” Horus said impatiently. “She said some rather dramatic things.”

  “Well, her daughter had just been possessed,” Morpheus said in their defense. “They've been through a lot.”

  “If I may?” Horus waved his hand at his notebook.

  “Babe, stop being a dick and just read the damn thing,” Hekate huffed.

  “I'm trying to,” Horus huffed back. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes; Mrs. Bianchi answered the door, and there stood an angel sent from God.”

  “Fuck! It's the fucking Angels again,” Finn snarled. “I'm getting sick of those feathered assholes.”

  “Well, that isn't the finest imagery,” I muttered.

  “It takes one to know one,” Horus said dryly.

  “Then you should know all about it,” Finn shot back.

  “Bird-shifters,” Blue said to his wife as he rolled his eyes.

  “Blood-drinkers,” Horus shot back.

  “Are we seriously reverting to name calling?” Toby asked in shock. “I thought you were all professionals?”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” Artemis asked as she shared an amused look with her boyfriend, Torrent. “We aren't pros, we're just a bunch of gods stumbling about in the dark, trying to find a light switch so we can see what the other gods are secretly doing to humans.”

  “We're friends,” I amended. “And as such, we sometimes tease each other. But at the end of the day, we have each other's backs. Isn't that right, Horus?”

  I expected a snarky comment, but Horus went serious and said, “That's right, Vervain.”

 
I started to smile.

  “No matter how annoying or imbecilic you and Pan get, I still have your backs,” Horus went on.

  I grimaced at Toby and said dryly, “I must be a masochist.”

  “If only.” Re sighed dramatically. “It's been ages since I've used my wall shackles, and I have drawers of toys going to waste; paddles, whips, handcuffs, chains—”

  “Anyway,” Horus drawled.

  “No; wait.” Hekate smacked Horus' knee. “This is getting good.”

  “Anyway,” I mimicked Horus and looked at him pointedly.

  “Morpheus and I questioned the family on what this angel looked like,” Horus said as he glanced back at his notes. “He was tall and muscular with dark hair, brown eyes, tan—”

  “Oh, come on,” Morpheus urged. “You quoted all that other stuff. Tell them what she really said.”

  Horus sighed and grimaced before reading, “He was the statue of David come to life, but far more exotic; the most handsome man I've ever seen.”

  I lifted my brows at him.

  “It's a quote,” Horus growled. “I'm not speaking for myself.”

  “Yeah, babe, she knows,” Hekate said. “She's messing with you. It's well-deserved, by the way. What else?”

  “His eyes were full of the light of God, and his voice was like sunshine,” Horus read with irritation. “When he took my hand, I instantly knew that everything would be all right.”

  “She said all of that in front of her husband?” Pan asked.

  “Mr. Bianchi is deceased,” Horus said. “It's just the mother, her two daughters, and her son living in the house.”

  “Just the four of them in that enormous house?” I asked in surprise.

  “They rent out the smaller villa for special events,” Horus said.

  “Did you get the name of this sunshine-voiced angel?” Finn asked.

  “Yes.” Horus tapped the paper. “Reginald Mackenzie.”

  “The angel is Scottish?” Finn asked dryly.

  “It's probably a fake name,” Toby said.