Earthbound

by Melora Johnson

  I swear to God, his eyes twinkled. I didn’t think anybody but Santa Claus could do that. It was unnerving.

  Then he sobered. He withdrew a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, then studied it for a moment before laying it on the table. He smoothed it with both hands and regarded me as if considering whether to show it to me or not. Finally, he sighed and pushed it across the table.

  I looked down. It was a photocopy of a newspaper article from my home town, about the death of a man who had been struck by lightning and strangely disfigured.

  I blanched. The article was twenty-four years old. I remembered the day like it was yesterday. It was the day my parents had started telling me to hide what I could do. Horrified, I stared up at Matt, tears welling up in my eyes. I started to get up, to bolt, to run, but he caught me by my hands and held me there.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked hoarsely, my throat constricting.

  His eyes glued to mine, he looked sorrowful at causing me pain. “I swear, I want to help you. I know you must have felt alone all these years—you’re not alone anymore.”

  I stared at the newspaper clipping between my arms. “How do you know about this?”

  Matt squeezed my hands until I gave him my attention. “Listen to me. I need you to tell me what happened that day.”

  I started shaking my head. I had pushed it down, so far down, that it would never see the light of day. I had never spoken of it to another person. Now he wanted me to trust him; tell him everything I remembered?

  I sniffed back my tears and took a steadying breath. Slowly, he released his grip on my hands until he gently held just one hand and stroked it. His gaze was filled with sympathy.

  Could I trust him?

  “What happened?” he prompted.

  I shook my head.

  He sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you. He seemed just like other men, didn’t he?”

  That terrible face, I could still see it, but every time I pictured it, it began to melt in my mind.

  “At first,” I whispered.

  “When you touched him, there was something else, wasn’t there?”

  I took a shuddering breath. He already knew, I realized. There was nothing left to hide. “I could feel his pain,” I said softly. Haltingly, I told him the story.

  “When I was eight years old, we had a housekeeper. She was nice enough, but keeping an eye on me was a chore to her, she made that clear. One night she was anxious to get home before a storm hit. ‘Your parents will be back soon. Here’s your cookies and milk. Keep the door locked and watch your show,’ she told me.

  “I barely paid attention, engrossed in my show, as she left.

  “A little while later, the doorbell rang, surprising me. I wasn’t supposed to answer the door for strangers. I thought maybe my parents were in a hurry to get out of the rain, so I opened the door.

  “A big man in a navy-blue suit pushed his way inside and shoved the door shut behind him. I had seen him when I got off the bus with the other kids earlier, but didn’t recognize him. The expression on his face was ugly. I didn’t know what he intended. I was scared, though, because I could feel it wasn’t good. He grabbed me by the throat and pushed me back. Instinctively I grabbed at his hand. The image that exploded inside my head surpassed anything I had ever pictured or seen about the torments of hell in Sunday school. I gasped as I felt his pain, but he screamed. Smoke poured from beneath my hands where they gripped his wrist.

  “I let go. His face began to melt, his nose sliding down and the features moving south like a wax figurine held over a flame. I screamed. He dropped me, slumped sideways and fell over. I scooted away from him along the wall, wrapped my arms around myself, and was still there crying when my parents walked in.

  “I managed to gasp out some idea of what had happened between sobs.

  “My father looked at what was left of the other man; his face having gelled into an amorphous blob. He gestured to my mother. ‘Help me get him outside.’ He opened the door and looked up and down the street. The rain was coming down in sheets.

  “‘What are you talking about?’ my mother asked, her eyes wide. ‘Shouldn’t we call 911?’

  “My father growled at her. I’d never seen him like that. ‘And explain this how? Outside, now, while no one is watching.’

  “She did as he said, and they deposited the man near the sidewalk, then my father called 911. ‘There’s a man outside my house. I just saw him get hit by lightning. He’s badly burned.’

  “It was one of the few times I remember my mother holding me for any length of time, cradling and rocking me as I mastered my tears, and my father instructed then drilled us on what to say to the police. When they arrived, my father took one look at me and told them I was in shock over seeing the man killed, and they couldn’t question me. As a respected businessman in town, that was that.”

  The waitress returned with our salads. I pulled back my hands, turning my face away, and tried to regain my composure. After a minute, I turned back to find him staring at me, yet not with the horror I expected.

  “I know this may be hard to believe, but most of us have difficult stories of our first banishing.”

  “Banishing?” I carefully schooled my features, my mind racing. What on Earth is he talking about?

  He looked right into my eyes. “Allyson, I’m a demon hunter, and what you’re describing is a particularly strong, though unschooled, casting out of a demon.”

  I couldn’t have been more surprised if his head had started spinning around, and he had claimed to be a demon himself. Was he joking? No, his face was completely straight. I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I picked up my fork and started eating. I was hungry, and there was food in front of me. Not eating would not help me remain calm.

  “Allyson?”

  I shook my head. “I need a minute to take this in.”

  “Ally…”

  I didn’t look at him. “No,” I said sternly. We ate in silence for several minutes, finishing our salads, then started on the burgers when they arrived. Finally, the edge off my hunger, I studied him from beneath my lashes. Gorgeous. Something was seriously wrong with my romantic karma.

  He caught my glance. “Didn’t you ever wonder about your ability to heal animals? How much faster they healed for you, under your care, than with anyone else?”

  I set my burger down and stared at him. Of course I had. How could he have found out about it to begin with? I was very careful about keeping that to myself as an adult, going so far as to keep birds in the cage I knew could have gone back into the wild weeks before.

  “We’d make a fantastic team, you and I.”

  I sat back, slowly shaking my head. This had gone too far. I started to slide out of the booth, turning.

  He put up a placating hand and snagged mine from the edge of the table where I was poised to push off. “Wait. Listen, you’re one of us, and I can train you to handle the demons.”

  I contemplated his hand holding mine. He had a bad habit of doing that, and, despite how confused and disoriented I was, it still felt good. God help me. I met his eyes and sat back, but tugged my hand away. “You said ‘us.’ How many of you are there?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve met three others. You make four. There may be more. I’m the youngest, was, until you.”

  I stared in wonder. The guy had to be crazy, but he certainly didn’t seem like it. I picked up a paper napkin and started shredding it. Was anything really what it seemed?

  Matt sighed. “Apparently, you can see people for what they really are. Maybe feel is a better word. I’ve known one other person who has this power of discernment. Most people get to know someone, and they begin to piece together what they’re really like but, with a little training, you’ll be able to touch a person and see them right away for what’s in their heart. It’s extremely useful when ferreting out demons, difficult when you’re just trying to get along with other people and play nice.”

  I almost sneered.
“That doesn’t make any sense. How come the two guys I dated turned out to be such jerks?”

  “Well,” he drew the word out. “Even good people sometimes do stupid or insensitive things. There’s also your perception of the situation.”

  I scowled at him. “Are you suggesting it’s just my perception of the situation?”

  He held up his hands placatingly. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there—you’ve got to admit it’s just possible the fact you were hiding things from them could have had something to do with it.”

  I didn’t want to admit anything. Damned people who argued rationally. “The guy who broke up with me by email… I’m not owning that one.”

  He shrugged and shook his head. “No, that’s just being a jerk.”

  I stared out the window. How had we gone off on this tangent? I was talking about boyfriends with a crazy man. To give myself time, I picked up my burger and finished it, then polished off a few fries as well.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

  The waitress picked that moment to return. “How is everything so far? Anything else I can get you folks?”

  She all but simpered at Matt, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

  Matt looked at me. “It’s fine, thanks. We’ll take the check any time.”

  Outside, I felt the urge to resist being confined again as I looked at the car. “I need to get some air.”

  He acquiesced with a nod. “I’m just glad you’re still willing to listen. There’s a park down this way,” he said, gesturing to the right.

  We went in that direction. “You’re asking me to accept the… things I remember from my childhood are real, even though my parents told me it didn’t happen the way I remember and never to talk about it?”

  “Think about it—if it didn’t happen, what is there to hide? Plus, there’s your healing power.”

  I hugged myself as I walked. I didn’t know what to believe. I wanted to believe him, yet I didn’t. It felt liberating to think there was someone here who would know me and be okay with all that I was, yet it was scary too. I felt crazy, but he might be crazier.

  He caught my arm and stopped me, then stepped close, staring into my eyes. “I know you don’t know what to believe right now. It’s scary. I’ve been there, but you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”

  I turned right and walked down the tree-lined city street. He followed.

  “Okay, just for Shits and giggles, let’s say I believe you. If there are half a dozen of us, give or take, how many demons are out there?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s not so easy to track. The Bible has very limited information about demons, where they came from, what their objectives are. Every culture has its own stories, or at least its own version of the stories. Jesus cast out demons himself. Over the centuries, various people have built what they’ve learned into grimoires, instructions for dealing with and banishing demons. From the Testament of Solomon, the first written account of 72 individual demons, to the classification of demons by Alfonso de Spina in 1467 and Peter Binsfeld in 1589, various people have numbered the demons in the tens of millions, though I personally think they may have been inflating the numbers. I guess the big question is how many demons there were originally and how many they’ve created.”

  Oh, Shit. I looked over at him. “I thought they were just fallen angels. They can reproduce?”

  He shrugged. “From what I’ve learned, yes. Demons were fallen angels, originally. There are also creatures which were born when demons mated with the old ones, before humans. They can also mate with humans, creating a lower class of demon.”

  My mind reeled as I tried to fathom what he was talking about.

  “Honestly, I have no idea how many demons there are, how static their number is, or whether it’s growing exponentially. Plus, when I cast a demon out, is it just sent away, or is it destroyed? I do know they aren’t easy to find. Do they live here on Earth, or do they come here from somewhere else? Maybe both. They can possess a human, and it seems that they’ve found a way to be born into human bodies now.”

  We had crossed several blocks and entered a park where the trees were taller. He slowed to a stop and my feet naturally followed suit. He turned to face me.

  “These things are strong, and we need everyone we can rooting and casting them out. I’d certainly rather be working with a partner.” He finished with a lopsided smile.

  The force of that smile and those eyes stole my breath away. I wanted to escape. I also wanted to say yes. Some logical part of my brain held me back. I turned and started walking again. “I don’t know, demons, evil, casting out—I’m having trouble accepting all of this. You’re asking me to take a very big leap here.” I glanced at him.

  “I know.” His smile drained away. “I’m just afraid if you don’t accept it, you’re going to learn the hard way, and very soon. I know you’re here and, I suspect, so do they.”

  I made my way to a nearby bench and sat down. A breeze blew through the trees, shaking the leaves. My skin felt suddenly chilled. I wrapped my jacket tighter around me. “What do you mean?”

  He sat down next to me. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I can make this any easier for you." He turned toward me. “Something led me to you. From what I’ve seen, I have to believe there may be a force, hopefully not as strong, working in an opposite direction. If something led me to you, there might be something coming to oppose our,” his face reddened, “for want of a better word, union.”

  The thought of a “union” between us set my body on edge. No. I would not get sucked into letting my hormones think for me. “How do I know you’re not some demon sent to lead me astray with sex?” Heat rushed into my cheeks. Had that really just come out of my mouth?

  I peeked over at him and found his lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

  Ugh. I was being drawn in again; I needed to protect myself. My nerves were frayed to the snapping point.

  I sprang off the bench, needing to move.

  Matt was by my side, matching my stride in a few seconds. I wrapped my arms around myself again, mentally shutting him out though he said nothing. We were nearly to his car. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, this is all too much for me to believe. I need some time. I’ll find my own way back to my hotel.”

  He stopped at his car, but I kept walking. Even without turning, I knew he stood there watching me until I was out of sight.

  Chapter 4

  The next day, at the wildlife health center, I did what I’ve always done so successfully—avoided what made me uncomfortable. There were lots of people around, and Shelly was more than happy to keep an eye on us when Matt did pop in for a few minutes. I went to lunch in the cafeteria, then I worked with Rick some more, helping him with tests and treatments for other animals in the clinic. It felt good to give my input and have it appreciated.

  “So, will you and Matt be joining us tonight at the staff mixer?” he asked. “The hotel on campus where it’s being held is quite nice.”

  I peered up from the microscope I was using to study a blood sample from a barn owl with rodenticide poisoning. “Oh? No, he didn’t mention it. I don’t expect to see Matt tonight.”

  His eyes widened behind his glasses. “Oh, well then… I mean, there’s a staff mixer, dinner and dancing at the hotel ballroom. Would you like to go with me?”

  “I didn’t really bring anything appropriate to wear with me.” A flutter of panic tingled through my head. What the hell? Nobody had asked me out in months, and then two guys in twenty-four hours were paying me attention? I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already four in the afternoon; I didn’t have time to shop for a dress in a city I didn’t know. Yup, perfect excuse. “Sorry.” I smiled apologetically.

  Rick flushed, nodding vigorously. “Oh, sure, I understand. You didn’t come prepared for a formal dance.”

  Shelly appeared at my elbow, beaming. “I have something you can borrow,” she offered.

  I stared at her, wide-eye
d, not having heard her come in. I suspected her offer had more to do with throwing me at any living male other than Matt, than of any desire to help me. We were of a similar build even though she was a couple inches taller, and it could work. Damnitall.

  “I have a really pretty blue dress you can wear,” Shelly continued, her eyes widening.

  I looked over at Rick. His posture was rigid. It must have taken a lot for him to work up the nerve to even ask me. I couldn’t have done it. He was a nice guy. It might be good to get my toes wet in the dating pool with someone like him, and, frankly, I was as anxious to steer clear of Doctor Matthew Scott Blake as Shelly was to keep him away from me.

  “Thanks, I appreciate the offer,” I said to Shelly then turned back to Rick. “I accept your invitation.”

  Something akin to lasers bore into the back of my neck, then Matt’s voice came from behind me, “What invitation would that be?”

  I turned, and the green of his gaze had hardened to jade. I lifted my chin. “Rick just asked me to the faculty mixer at the hotel tonight, and I accepted.”

  “Oh, really?” His voice was quiet, yet I felt the urge to wince at his flat tone.

  “Well, maybe we’ll see you there. Pick you up at seven, Shelly?”

  “What? Oh, yes, great. Okay.” She looked flustered, yet pleased.

  It was my turn to scowl. If he was trying to use her to make me jealous, it wouldn’t work. He’d just end up hurting the girl.

  Matt observed me with a hint of amusement, challenge clear on his face. I bit my tongue.

  “We can get ready at my place,” Shelly said, linking her arm through mine. “We’d better get going.”

  “But it’s only four o’clock,” I protested.

  “Well, we’ve got to get you shoes. I have a dress, but you won’t fit in my shoes,” she said, all but dragging me out of the room. She looked to Rick. “Pick her up at my house.”

  She had a point. I couldn’t very well wear my hiking boots. Well, I could, but then I’d have to dye my hair black, paint my nails, and go very gothic with the makeup. It wasn’t really my style anymore.