by Sabra Kay
This new breed of preacher-demons was a problem, though. They were bold, empowered, and more influential than ever. Inciting violence against women, minorities, and anyone who refused to conform to the “American Way.”
I shoved my phone back into my purse in disgust. The dark side was getting more powerful by the day.
Finally, Chuck and Ayana emerged. They were sweaty and disheveled. Chuck jerked his thumb toward the door, and Ayana smoothed her hair and straightened her jacket.
“Well, that was fun.” She thanked Chuck and gave him a warm smile.
Her smile faded when she turned toward me. “Thank you for your help, Grace.”
I nodded and followed them out the door.
***
The human brain is wired to search for meaning and find patterns. This is one of the reasons they are drawn to religion and conspiracy theories. This neurological feature often works against logic, reason, and good decision-making.
It’s a bug. A glitch. A liability.
Since my brain is probably more human than nephilim, at least in some ways, I am just as capable of falling down rabbit holes as anyone else. I couldn't get the Karen creepiness out of my head or my increasing run-ins with cambion scum. I couldn't stop thinking about Sera. I couldn't stop thinking about the night in the warehouse, and I couldn't stop thinking about how a seven-year-old nephilim girl could have possibly used telekinesis and fire to fend off her kidnappers.
Worse yet, I couldn't stop thinking about how it was all somehow connected. Ridiculous.
It was just after noon when we left the house. I'd been thinking of Sera on and off, clutching her bunny, throwing her arms around me. I'd never been a kid person, but this kid was different.
Maybe I’d felt a connection with her because we were both motherless.
I thought of Ethan and what he'd said about thinking he could have lost her forever, thinking he might not want to continue without her. If that's what it meant to be a parent, if it meant living in constant fear of having your heart ripped out, I wasn't interested. No, thank you.
Also, what do you do when your kid is exhibiting powers that she couldn't have? Shouldn't have?
“You wanna go to Pat’s?” Chuck looked at me with a mix of curiosity and concern.
“I don't know. I need to make some phone calls.”
“Make them after we get food and coffee. What do you say?”
“I say you don't need to ask twice.”
We pulled into Pat's, and like Pavlov's dog, I immediately began salivating. I'd worked up a hell of an appetite and could practically taste the bacon drizzled with maple syrup, the fluffy pancakes, the English muffin with blackberry jam, smell the piping hot coffee. I walked through the door, not realizing I'd left Chuck in the dust. He came in behind me shaking his head. “
My God, kid, you have an appetite. I don't know where you put it.”
Terri was on shift and sat us in Chuck's favorite spot. “You two need menus?”
“Usual for me, and whatever the kid wants. We'll also take two pots of coffee. We don't like to share.”
She nodded and walked back to the counter, returning moments later with two carafes. I needed food more than I needed coffee, but that didn't stop me from pouring a cup. I ordered pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and an English muffin. Chuck nodded his approval.
“So, how do you feel?”
“I feel okay. Tired. Sore. But good.”
“Nice. Good to hear. You did well over there.”
I smiled. It felt nice to get some positive feedback for a change.
“I've got to get back to the gym, get back to training. Karen kicked my ass today.”
“Karen kicked everyone's ass. I'm getting old. Maybe I need to take vitamins or something. Or just drink more coffee.”
“Bah, you're not getting old. You know we live to be over one hundred, right? You're not even halfway there.”
“You been counting long? I'm officially halfway there, plus two years.”
“Oh. Yikes, sorry.”
“You should be. Besides, I'm second-generation. And I trashed my body with all that poison, so deduct at least a decade for stupidity. Maybe more. I figure I've got maybe another thirty years. Goes by fast, kid. Make it count, right?”
I raised my cup. “Make it count.”
Terri brought our plates. The eggs were steaming, the bacon still sizzling. I dove into my pancakes, dousing them in golden maple syrup, making sure my bacon and eggs got a healthy dose, too.
“I'm still creeped out by that exorcism. Karen wouldn't stop looking at me and saying weird shit.”
Chuck laughed and took a bite of toast, shaking his head.
“What? You didn't find it creepy, the way her freaking eyes glowed, and she was like, heeees coming for youuuuuuu.’” I pointed my fork at him. “C'mon, that was creepy.”
“You know full well demons like to say shit to throw us off. They especially love creeping out a rookie. When I first started, sheesus. I heard it all. Sometimes they knew my name. That was the worst. 'Chuck… I'll be back for you, Chuck!'” He drew out the sound of his name into a husky, hollow whisper each time and then laughed. “Damn near pissed myself the first couple jobs.”
We both had a good laugh at that. Professional exorcism might not be the most glamorous job there was, but it wasn't boring, that's for sure.
Chapter Nine
On the way home, we drove past people gathered on the side, holding signs. Redemptionists. They didn't have as big a showing here as they did in the Bay Area, but the few we had were vocal and volatile. Many were wearing Billy Blaine swag, carrying flags with his image, demanding sinners to repent and suggesting he should run for office in the upcoming election. Great. Blaine for president.
I glared at a man holding a sign. Witch was written in bold black letters, surrounded by a circle with a line through it. Crude flames adorned the sign, and a chill ran down my spine. The burnings were happening more and more. Redemptionists and other extremists believed there was a growing movement to save the world from evil, and that it was through the work of brave souls who were not afraid to do the hard thing, that America would be free from the spawns of hell.
Too bad they didn't know that burning a witch was exactly what opened the door for said spawns.
I returned home and checked on the outside cats, feeling awful about how cold it was. I put old towels in their houses and refilled their bowls. My father forbade pets of any kind in the house. I always felt a person who didn't want pets was suspect and possibly sociopathic. Given my experience with the old man, my opinion continued to stand.
When Ethan answered the phone, I could feel the tension and fatigue as soon as he said hello.
“Ethan, how are you doing? You sound exhausted.”
“Beyond. I was getting ready to call you anyway. I need a favor. A big one.”
“Anything, what do you need?”
“I need you to come stay here, just for one night. I've got a conference I can't cancel. I could take her and Rachel with me, but I don't want to drag either of them on a plane or to a hotel. There are guards stationed at the house, and home is probably the safest place, but I would feel so much better knowing you're here.”
Of course, I said 'anything you need.' I loved Ethan, and I wanted to help, but an overnight stay with Rachel and the kid did was not my cup of tea. Especially now, when I had so much going on.
“I'm leaving tonight, Grace.” He took on an imploring tone. “The conference is in the morning. It's a short flight. I'll be back in the afternoon. I'll just breathe easier knowing you're there. And Sera keeps asking about you. It'll give her some distraction and give Rachel a break. She's been a mess. She blames herself.”
I closed my eyes. Just an overnight, no big deal. I could do it, and it would give me an excuse to call my Father. He'd be pleased to know I was staying over. I could set up my next appointment.
I wanted to search Sera's file, anyway.
/> “Of course, Ethan. No problem.”
He exhaled. “Thank you, Grace. You don't know how much this means to me.”
“You owe me a home-cooked meal, though.”
“Done.”
“I can be there this afternoon. I just have to go home and get some things.”
“Sounds good.”
I hung up and face-palmed myself. What was I thinking? A night away? With Rachael and Sera? I slumped against the wall, defeated. I decided not to think about it too much. Just do it and get it over with. I really wanted to learn more about Sera and Sian. Surely there had to be some info on them.
I picked myself back up and dialed Darah. She could find out more than I could.
She picked up but sounded busy. “Yeah, Gamble, what's going on?”
“Nothing, just thought you might want to congratulate me on getting back to work.”
She squealed, and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Yeah Dare, I'm excited, too. Hey, I called for a favor.”
“What's that?” She sounded dubious.
“I was wondering if you could do a little research for me. On Seraphina Cole. And her mom, Sian.”
“What? Why?”
“Just curious, that's all. I was wondering if there was anything in the files, anything that stood out. Anything at all”
“Okay… That's fine and all, but I need to know why. If I'm snooping, it needs to be for a cause, especially if it can get me in trouble.”
I sighed. I’d sworn I wouldn't say anything to anyone, including her. But I needed to know what, if anything, was in her file.
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but I'm asking you to dig deep, beyond your clearance. You're a total hacker, and I know you can do it.”
“Yikes. Gamble, I can't go breaking into their system. I mean, I can, but I can’t.”
“I know. It's asking a lot.”
“Okay, I'll make you a deal. I must go right now, but I expect you to spill exactly what's going on. I'll get in the files and get some info, and if it looks like there's more to the story, I'll dig deeper. But you gotta give up the story, deal?”
“Deal.”
“Hey, and while you're there, see what you can find out about the Cervantes case.”
She sighed. “I have a feeling this is going to get me in trouble. Lucky for you, I'm curious.”
"You know I love you, Dare. Thanks, I owe you."
I ended the call and started the process of digging through my drawers and baskets for the ever elusive clean laundry.
My stomach growled. The Pop-tarts were gone, the cereal was gone. I brewed some coffee and shoved a change of clothes, some pajamas, and my toiletry kit into my bag.
While I packed, the news blared at me from the television, reminding me that an extreme militia group had just claimed responsibility for a deadly bomb placed at the headquarters of a major news network. Over a dozen people were killed. They highlighted one of the victims, a pregnant woman who had just been finishing up her last day before going on maternity leave. Her sobbing husband demanded justice for his wife, and a group of people behind him carried signs warning us all that the end was upon us.
As I grabbed my notebook to shove in my bag, my eyes traveled to the flask sitting on my nightstand. I shook it and found it full. There was no hesitation when I dropped it into my purse.
***
I pulled up to Ethan's feeling nervous. I didn't know why. Maybe I was dreading the tension between Rachel and me, maybe it was the kid. Either way, I was there to back up my friend, one of my oldest and dearest.
Ethan opened the door and stepped onto the deck, welcoming me with his warm, easy smile. I stayed back from him a little, not wanting to do the hug thing. I knew Rachel was hovering at the kitchen window, observing.
I focused on Sera instead, as she bolted through the door and down the steps so fast I feared she would fall. She jumped into my arms, and I lifted her in a big bear hug. It seemed odd to me that I simultaneously was so happy to see her, so in awe of her openness, her trusting nature, her delight in the simplest, silliest things, and at the same time was so completely overwhelmed by her.
“Sera! You came back!” She kissed me on the cheek, then held up Rex Bunny for a kiss.
I kissed the rabbit, laughing and pushing it out of my face despite Sera’s insistence on more kisses.
“Well, are you gonna come in and have dinner, or what?” Ethan’s eyes twinkled like they always did.
It was good to see the old Ethan back.
I stood, taking Sera’s hand and following Ethan into the house. Rachel was waiting inside, and I sincerely hoped it wasn't her that spent all afternoon cooking the meal I was about to eat. She was all smiles, making small talk as Ethan mixed up a colorful salad, and Sera set the table.
Ethan motioned for me to sit while he placed fresh bread and butter on the table. My mouth watered at the sight of the bread, not so much the salad. I took in the warmth and coziness of the kitchen, the smells of home-cooked food, the fire in the fireplace, family photos on the wall. Ethan beamed as we passed plates around, and Rachel filled up our glasses with ice water.
It felt so foreign to me, this type of family, this type of home. I'd never experienced anything like it. It was comforting, but it didn't feel like something that was for me. This was what Ethan had always wanted, ever since I could remember. It was one of the reasons we hadn’t worked out.
Ethan was the kind of nephilim that didn't care about being a nephilim. He wasn't interested in upstairs politics, nephilim history, demons, cambions, or witches. None of it. As far as he was concerned, he was simply a human doing his best to make the world a better place. I respected him for that. He was the one who decided who he was, what he was, and what he was going to be. I would have said the same about myself a few months earlier, but now I wasn't so sure.
“This looks amazing, Ethan.” I eyeballed the steaming pasta while slathering my bread with whipped butter.
It was still warm from the oven with just the right amount of crunch and garlicky goodness. It was the first home-cooked meal I'd had in I didn't know how long, unless you wanted to count Pat's as a home-cooked meal.
Sera sat next to me, touching my hair, making silly faces and trying to get me to eat her vegetables.
I passed on the vegetables and did my best to keep my own facial expressions under control.
“So, you're just going to Los Angeles for the night?” I munched while I talked.
Rachel frowned slightly and reminded Sera to please not talk with her mouth full, looking at me all the while. This was going to be a long night.
“Yeah, I'm booked at a conference tomorrow. Been consulting for a solar start-up and getting more speaking engagements. I’ve been thinking about writing a book, but who has the time? I've got my own company to run.”
“You're a fu—” I stopped and corrected myself, “—a real superstar, heathen.” I put my hand up to my mouth. Aside from nearly dropping the F-bomb, I also called him by his high school nickname. Slick, Grace.
Sera cocked her head to the side. “Why'd you call him that?”
Ethan passed me the salad bowl, but I declined. “It was a nickname in school, that's all.”
“Oh, what's it mean?”
“It means your Dad was a troublemaker.”
“A troublemaker?” she looked at her Dad, her eyes wide and questioning.
“No, Grace was the troublemaker,” he laughed and glanced at Rachel.
She wasn't laughing.
“If you ladies will excuse me, I need to take this call.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a quick exit.
There was a moment of awkward silence as I shoveled more food in my mouth, and Sera hummed and fidgeted and picked at her salad. Rachel avoided my eyes as she tapped Sera's plate with her fork, indicating that she wasn't done yet.
She looked at me and cleared her throat. “It's so nice of you to come by.” Her eyes followed me as I grabbed more bread. “But you
really don't need to stay the night. We're fine here.”
Yikes, so this is how it's going to be.
“But I want her to,” Sera stuck out her lower lip.
Too cute.
“I'm sure you have things to do. Didn't you start back to work?”
Now how the hell did she know that?
“You're back?” Ethan asked as he sat back down.
“Yes, I'm back on the job.” I stared at her for a moment.
She stared back. Ethan smiled awkwardly while Sera swirled her spaghetti onto her fork and glanced back and forth between the adults at the table, painstakingly shoving the forkful of pasta into her mouth, doing her best not to miss any of it or make a mess.
“What's your job, Grace? Do you talk to people on a stage? Do you make cool things?”
“Sera! Don't talk with your mouth full,” Rachel sighed in exasperation.
I took a bite of bread. “I do talk to people at my job,” I chewed a bit more, “I help people.”
I looked pointedly at Rachel before swallowing. Ethan shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Sera giggled, and I winked at her. Jesus Grace, you are five.
We all finished eating, and I helped clear the plates after dinner. Ethan ran upstairs to grab his things. Sera sat at the island coloring, proudly showing me her masterpieces while I tried to fight Rachel for the dishes. I was doing my best to be friendly, charming, even. I complimented her hair, her cute yoga attire, asked her how often she worked out, all the things.
She remained polite.
“Okay, guys, I've got to go. Hopefully, I won't hit any traffic this time of evening, but you never know. My flight's at ten thirty. I'll be in LA before midnight. Please, guys, call me if you need anything.” In a low voice, he added, “I let our friends know I was leaving town. They'll keep a close eye on things.” He straightened, returning to his normal tone. “You ladies have a nice evening. Maybe have a glass of wine, trade makeup tips or something.”
He winked and Rachel and I both rolled our eyes at his ridiculous comment.
