by Michael Todd
Max grabbed the cup and gulped the hot coffee. “Thanks. That was like drinking rubbing alcohol.”
Damian took his shot and didn’t even change the expression on his face. He dabbed the napkin against his lips and set the glass upside down on the table. “I am assuming that was your first shot of vodka ever.”
“I’ve had gin and whiskey before but no vodka. I don’t think I like it.”
The priest wrinkled his nose. “Gin…gross. It tastes like Christmas.”
Max laughed. “I’m not sure what Christmas tastes like, but I liked it. Either with soda or with Sprite and a lime.”
Damian shivered. “I just figured out what is wrong with you. You’re an old man.”
The trainee tossed his lemon wedge at him, smiling. Damian put his hands in his lap and let out a deep sigh. “And yes, I trained Katie when she first became infected. But, in the end, she was the one who ended up teaching everyone so many different things about their demons and how to fight them.”
“You talk about her like she’s gone.”
Damian shook his head, realizing that he was. “No, she’s not gone. In fact, I talked to her the other day. I guess that part of my life has ended, and for me to fully embrace this, which is what I wanted, I had to close the door on my mercenary life. She will always be my family, and I will always have her back, but this is my focus now, no matter what. Sounds sad, I know, but it’s really not. I’ve only been gone a month, but it truly feels like it was a lifetime ago. Strange, I never thought I would miss being a merc until I was gone.”
Max looked down at the table and back at Damian. “What is Katie like? I mean, what was it like, running head-on into danger like that?”
Damian cleared his throat. He really didn’t want to answer questions about that part of his life, at least not yet. “It was just like you think it would be. Grand, scary, the whole nine yards.”
The trainee was astounded. “That’s insane to me. What were Katie and Calvin like? They are really the ones that I remember the most, only because once the demon secret was out they were the ones in the headlines.”
He gave short answers, only enough to satisfy without delving into the inner workings of his friends. “Katie is nice. She really cares for people, and she is willing to put her life on the line for them. That’s why I work so hard at it. I guess I look up to her that way. He is like a brother to me. He is fearless, to say the least. Very good people, all family, all courageous.”
“Do you think that I can watch them or meet them one day?” Max asked excitedly.
Damian breathed in heavily through his nose and leaned forward. “Look, Max. I think right now is a bad time to put any focus on them or their lives. I have a responsibility to keep their personal information just that—personal and secretive. Not only that, but I want you to focus on your job, not theirs. It’s easy to get caught up in the heroics of their lives on paper, but it will be a distraction for you, and the last thing you need is a distraction when you’re learning.”
Max looked disappointed. “I get it. Those two jobs have nothing to do with each other. I should just stay the course because there’s no changing it, even if I wanted to.”
“That’s actually not true. They aren’t two completely different jobs. Being a mercenary and doing what we do very much intertwine. The thing is, you are new to all this, and I need you to take your time learning this and everything that goes along with it before you start rolling through incursions, ripping demons out of humans. The truth of it is, until I got into the last few years as a merc, I pretty much winged it. I was the first priest merc in hundreds of years, so I had no one to guide me through the process. I made the best attempt I could.” He took a sip of his whiskey.
Max looked around and lowered his shoulders. “Right. So, you learned a lot from Katie, and you decided that working for the church was what you wanted to do?”
“Yep, that and working for the people. On this team, you are helping the people and in such a way that you are hands-on with them. That is the message of our church. We are doing what we should be doing.”
The waitress came over, refilled Max’s coffee, and set some cream and sugar on the table. Before he could ask any more questions, Damian interrupted and turned the whole situation into a teachable moment. “So, I have been sitting here, running the exorcism through my head, and I think I have some pointers for you that will help you stay alive when you’re at an exorcism like that one.”
Max poured the creamer into his cup. “Let’s hear them. I like the idea of not dying.”
Damian was starting to like the young priest. He was enthusiastic but not obnoxiously so. Sure, he was young and inexperienced, which was to be expected. The biggest thing, though, that his mentor had seen that could hurt him was the fact that he was impatient. In fact, it was something that struck him with surprise because of the kid’s understanding of fear, his background, his sarcasm, and his impatience. He reminded him of himself at that age.
He lifted his glass and clinked it to Max’s. “Before I launch in, let’s congratulate ourselves on a successful exorcism. From ashes to ashes. From poltergeist to goo.”
Max clinked his coffee to the shot glass and took a sip. Damian stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “So, the major thing that I saw was the fact that you were impatient. You ran full speed into some things, while with others, you stepped so far back you couldn’t even see what was to come. You need to start taking it at a steady pace. Study the situation but don’t take too long. There is always the threat of danger or other spirits in situations like that.”
The trainee pulled his notebook out and wrote it down. “Okay. Patience on both sides. Got it.”
Damian twiddled his thumbs. “The only other thing I can really think of is not letting the shock factor stop you for even a second. Go in with the mindset that nothing is too far out there to be believable.”
“Right,” Max replied, writing again. “Expect insane things. Got it.”
He grinned at him and his organization and eagerness. “That’s all for now. Let’s talk about other things. I’m tired of discussing demons.”
The young man closed his book carefully. “Okay, like what?”
Damian tapped his fingers against his lips. “Favorite sport?”
Max scoffed. “Football, of course, though soccer is a close second. You?”
He sipped his whiskey. “Not really a sports fan, but if I were to pick, then I would say rugby. I like the viciousness and dedication of the men. How about favorite music?”
His companion thought about it for a minute. “I like rock. Actually, my favorite band’s lead singer became a Damned, and I think he fights for the military now.”
Damian held back a smirk, knowing he was talking about Brock. “Oh! I have a question. This one is important, so really think about it. Ready?”
“Yeah, whatcha got?”
He put his hands flat on the table and looked Max right in the eyes. “Do you like soap operas?”
Chapter Eight
Damian pulled the SUV slowly into the drive. He looked at the courtyard as they headed for the garage. Rose was outside, sweeping as usual. They both waved, but she didn’t seem to notice in the least. In fact, he slowed down, and he and Max tilted their heads to the side, watching her huff and puff as if she were almost arguing with herself.
She swept the ground harder then stopped, slamming the bristles down on the ground. “No. No. No. I will not.”
For a few minutes, she continued grumbling to herself before looking up slowly to find them staring at her. She immediately put on a happy face and waved before disappearing with her broom into her house. Damian crept forward toward the garage, blinking his eyes.
Max scratched his head. “You know, I don’t know if you noticed this before, but Rose is kind of strange.”
He chuckled and shrugged. “Aren’t we all?”
They pulled into the garage, and the young priest still looked puzzled. “Yeah,
but…”
Damian turned off the engine and patted his shoulder. “Just don’t eat the biscotti. Or the cobbler. As far as Rose is concerned, be super nice to her, and if you notice anything else strange about her behavior, don’t act, just bring it straight to me.”
Max looked at him strangely. “When did you become Rose’s keeper?”
“I’m not, but the church is. So, if you know how this kind of thing works, that means I am automatically involved. She’s a sweet lady and won’t do you too much harm. Just keep an eye out.”
He reached for the door handle, and the trainee grabbed him by the arm. “I wanted to say thank you. Thanks for saving me from Rose’s falling plant and for the exorcism. You were more patient with me than anyone else has been in my life. I learned a lot, and I think that going forward, you will be impressed with what I can accomplish.”
Damian softened his expression, feeling slightly sentimental thinking of a similar conversation he’d had with Korbin decades before. “There is no doubt in my mind that you will be something awesome. I know that your devotion to God, your love for the church, and your good heart will carry you in anything you may lack. Just understand, I won’t make it easy for you, but you will thank me in the end. We’re gonna make a man out of you yet, Maximus.”
He rolled his eyes. “Max, it’s Max.”
Damian nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I said, Maximus.”
They both got out of the SUV, and he tossed his personal duffel bag on a stool. He started to walk away, waving his hand over his shoulder. “Unload the SUV, and then you are free to do whatever.”
Max groaned and threw his hands out. “Of course, your Majesty, anything else? A cup of tea? The head of a dragon?”
He smirked. “I understand Tiamat is still alive…somewhere.”
Damian laughed to himself as he walked into the house and tossed the keys onto the side table. He picked the mail up off the floor in front of the door and skimmed through it. As he flipped through the envelopes, he noticed the black stains across his knuckles and fingers. His nose wrinkled when he realized how dirty he still was.
He dropped the mail on the tea table and went back to his room, closing the door. His boots sat up straight as he slipped them off, and he stood in front of the mirror, undoing his cufflinks and untying his bow tie. He hadn’t yet looked in the mirror, but as his eyes met his reflection, he jolted. He was covered in goo from the exorcism. It was matted in his hair, his goatee, down his shirt, and all over the back of his trench coat.
“Son of a bitch, it’ll take me forever to get this out of my coat,” Damian grumbled, folding it and laying it across the dresser.
This wasn’t the first time he had been covered in some sort of foreign bodily fluid, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t something he felt like dealing with at that moment, though, so he finished undressing and made his way into the shower. As he stepped under the hot stream of water, he stared down at the green river running from his body and down the drain.
Damian thought about the exorcism and about how well Max did. His thoughts shifted back to his first exorcism as a Damned. He had been nervous as hell, despite his background with the SWAT team. They had trained him to be calm and controlled in the face of adversity but dealing with demons was a hell of a lot different than people. Korbin had taken him to an old house on the outskirts of Vegas and showed him through it.
“This looks like a normal run-down house,” he had told Korbin, standing in the yard.
The merc hadn’t said a word. He simply shook his head and smiled, leading him up to the front door. The place was a madhouse, even worse than the one they had just been in. There were booby traps set up by the poltergeist, and entities roamed the halls, unable to be killed but dangerous to humans. They finally found the heart of the place, and that was when he learned a lesson he carried with him still.
“So, I just open this up, and I’ll find the heart?” Damian had asked nervously.
Korbin nodded. “Yep. But remember, they are evil spirits. It won’t be simple to get into the room.”
Damian had become impatient at that moment and scoffed. He could remember reaching for the door handle, with Korbin trying to stop him, but it was too late. The handle connected with his palm and set fire to his skin. He couldn’t recall a pain that bad since.
He finished washing the soap from his body and looked down at the scar on his palm, flexing his hand. He smiled, always thankful that he had a better sense of patience because of that day. It had kept him alive many times.
Finally clean, he got out of the shower and dried off, taking time to trim his goatee perfectly like he always did. He could see the young man from many years before beneath the grey-peppered facial hair and deep lines beside his eyes. With one towel wrapped around his waist, he ruffled his wet hair with another as he walked into the bedroom and over to his closet. Pulling open the doors, he stared at his wardrobe, meticulously hung and color coded.
To the left were at least six black, full-length trench coats, all with a leather pouch sewn on the inside. Next to those were a dozen pairs of the same cotton-rayon blended black dress pants. Further down the line was a row of crisp white button-up shirts dangling beside two hangers. One was full of suspenders of all different colors and the next held matching bow ties. Everything had been perfectly pressed before getting hung up in his closet.
“What I wouldn’t give for my dry cleaner, the only one I know that presses a shirt better than me,” he grumbled.
He sighed and pulled out his outfit, taking it over to the bed. He got dressed, grabbed some socks, and finished tying his bow tie. When he was done, he walked over to stand in front of the full-length ornate mirror. He twisted at his bow tie for a moment, then put one hand in his pocket.
Damian turned right and left, making sure his creases met up, and snapped his suspenders. “I may not be getting any younger, but I’m a nice-looking chap…for a priest.”
Sounds like you are full of yourself today, his demon said, snickering.
Well, well, well, Ravana has finally come out of hiding. I wondered when you would come back out for air.
She snickered. I told you, it’s Ravi. And I totally wasn’t going to roll out when you were neck deep in your demon books. Talk about boring. I mean seriously, you couldn’t have read something more entertaining?
Damian smiled. And what would you like me to read, Ravi?
I don’t know. Little Women, Shakespeare, a fucking People Magazine. Anything but that boring-ass history lesson, which is not completely accurate, might I add.
That would have been helpful to know. See? You could have enjoyed it. Even if it was tearing all the information apart. Everybody needs two sides to a story.
Ravi wasn’t interested in helping him research demons. She was tired of being cooped up with no one to talk to, not that she would admit that to him. Okay, I have to say something. What the hell are you wearing? Seriously, the white shirt, bow tie, and suspender thing is out. Hell, it wasn’t even in when you were wearing it three decades ago. And the trench coat? What are you, some dark action movie villain or something?
He looked at himself again in the mirror, furrowing his brow. I didn’t know I was in a fashion contest. You got lucky. If you were going to land in a priest, I could be wearing the robes and the collar. Then what would you do?
Kill myself and gouge out your eyeballs, so I didn’t have to stare at your reflection. I have choices.
Damian ignored the statement and headed out to the living room, grabbed a book, and sat down next to the fire. He tried to concentrate, but Ravi was all wound up.
She huffed. I mean seriously, you are in London, a city that loves fashion. Sure, there are the weirdos, but you don’t have to be a weirdo. Through all my years on Earth, I always wanted to go to London but I never had the chance.
He shuffled in his seat, doing his best to concentrate on the words in the book and not in his head.
Ravi let out a wistfu
l sigh. I want to visit Kings Road, Redchurch Street, and oh, my God, I can’t even think about not going to Regent Street. It is like the most famous shopping district in the world. And I guess while we are there, we could stop through Marylebone. You would like it there. Lots of books or whatever.
After a few minutes of her ranting on and on about the local celebrities that lived in London, Damian groaned and shut his book. He knew there was no stopping her at that point. You know, if you’re bored and you want to see the world, you could become more involved with helping me fight the demons.
She groaned exhaustively. We’ve totally been over this before, old man. I have no interest in fighting anyone. I took a body so that I could grab on to some human fashion because let’s face it, clothes in hell are boring and old-school.
He put his book on the table. Look, there are things you want and things I want. If we are going to get along, then you have to start getting with the program. Otherwise, it’ll be a very long time in my body with bow ties, suspenders, and books.
Ravi growled. Fine, but we have to make a deal.
Oh, Lord, here it comes. You do realize I am a priest working in service of God, right? Making deals with demons is kind of against the rules.
Meh, this is a small one. I don’t want your soul or anything. I’ll start getting more involved with your demon hunting and exorcising weird shit if you start loosening up on the idea of fashion.
Damian changed the subject, absolutely refusing to make any deal of the kind. We exorcised a seriously tough poltergeist today.
I know. I can still smell her goo on you. And you just changed the subject. That isn’t cool at all.
I am a priest, a thirty-year veteran of the demon war, and I like history. Can’t imagine cool is what I strive for.
She let out a shrill, Oh, I get it. You think because you wear some stupid bow tie and know big words that you are better than me? Or is it because you are a stupid human?
