Mind Games

by Jana Oliver

  Riley walked out into the hallway, making soothing noises. The child kept whimpering, shooting anxious glances as if she expected the demons to return and claim her.

  “Carrina? I’m Riley. You’re safe now, honey. Both the demons are gone now. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “Bad . . . hurt . . . burn . . . ”

  “I know. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can go see your mommy and daddy.”

  The little girl seemed too shocked to understand what was happening. It took some wandering, but Riley found the master bedroom. As she entered the room, Carrina finally stirred to life.

  “Not ’posed to be here.”

  “I’m sure your mommy and daddy won’t mind.”

  In the huge bathroom, Riley stripped off the child’s filthy clothes and threw them in the trash. Then she swore under her breath. The kid was a patchwork of bruises.

  “Hurts,” Carrina said, rubbing at one of them.

  “The big demon did that to you?”

  She nodded. “When I cried.”

  Which would make her cry more, generating an endless round of torment.

  Riley helped the child into the shower, and the instant the water hit her skin, she began to cry again. They shampooed her hair, which was short, hacked, like someone had gone at it with scissors.

  “Did the demon make you cut your hair?”

  The little girl nodded. “It hurt Hector.”

  “Hector?”

  “My kitty.”

  By “hurt,” Riley suspected the kid meant the cat was dead.

  Burn forever, demon.

  “I’m so sorry, honey. Did I tell you about Max?” As she finished washing the girl, Riley launched into some of her funnier Max-the-neighbor-cat tales, carefully avoiding the ones that involved anything demonic.

  “He’s big and fluffy. Really big,” Riley explained, drying off her own arms. She was nearly as wet as the little girl.

  Carrina looked up into her eyes. “You don’t have a kitty?”

  Riley shook her head. “No. Maybe someday.”

  “Maybe me too,” she replied.

  The shower seemed to have helped. They always had for Riley, getting the demonic stink off her. Now it would be up to the kid’s parents to help her heal from the trauma. It certainly was going to take a lot of time and love.

  “That’s better,” she said, pushing the girl’s wet hair out of her face. Two sad blue eyes looked back up at her, and Riley’s heart cracked. The tears came without notice.

  Carrina held out her arms and Riley pulled her closer, hugging her tightly.

  “You’ll be okay. It’ll be scary for a while, but soon you’ll forget all about those nasty demons.”

  The little girl shook her head. “No. Never.” She pulled herself out of Riley’s arms. “Why did you come to my house?”

  “Because of you. This is what I do. I help little girls get away from bad things.”

  “Can I do that when I’m big?”

  It was such a solemn question that Riley answered it honestly.

  “Yes, you can. Someday, if you want, you can fight the bad things too.”

  The girl gave a single determined nod as if that reply had decided her future. If the look in this child’s traumatized eyes meant anything, Lucifer had just made a lifelong enemy.

  A few minutes later they exited the bedroom, Carrina dressed in a white, adult-sized bathrobe and a pair of her mom’s panties, knotted on the sides to keep them in place. It was the best they could do, as her clothes were in her room and no way would Riley subject the kid to that scene.

  Beck met them in the hallway. “The parents are gettin’ worried. Luckily they didn’t hear the gunshots.”

  “Noisy demons have a purpose in life,” Riley replied.

  Carrina took one look at him and shied back.

  “He’s okay. This is Beck. He killed the demon.” The child blinked at him, then at Riley. “He’s a good guy. I swear it.”

  “Do you have a kitty?” the girl asked, all serious.

  “No,” he said. “But I have a rabbit.”

  Carrina blinked. “Bunny?”

  “Yeah. Her name is Rennie and she’s way cool.” Beck quickly pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of his rabbit. “See?”

  A tentative smile teased the corners of Carrina’s lips. Then she held out her arms, wanting to be held. For a moment, Beck hesitated. Riley gave him a look that said he better not back away, not with this little one.

  So he picked her up and settled her in his arms, smiling down at her. “You’re the bravest little girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Carrina gazed up at him. “I was . . . ssscared.”

  “So was I, but it’s okay to be scared. When I have a little girl, I hope she’s as brave as you.”

  And in that hopscotch way of thinking that small children possess, she asked, “What does the bunny eat? Carrots?”

  As Beck told her all about his rabbit, Riley trailed along beside them, marveling at how he’d put the kid at ease. He was a natural. When there was a pause as Carrina thought up another question, Beck angled his head toward the child in his arms.

  “Someday?” he asked.

  She smiled back. “Someday.”

  You are going to be an awesome father.

  The instant they exited the house, there was a cry from Carrina’s mother and Beck was besieged by weeping parents. Once the girl dove into her mom’s arms, her father put his arms around both of them.

  “My baby! Oh my God, my baby!” Mrs. Gill sobbed.

  Riley teared up at the reunion. Then she noticed someone standing next to the priest and Simon. Someone very familiar.

  Justine Armando. Her personal nemesis.

  “Did you know she was going to be here?” Riley asked as Beck rejoined her.

  “Nope.”

  “If she hits on you, I swear to God I will rip her to pieces,” she said under her breath.

  “Not likely, since she’s married. But still, I’d like to see that. It’d be a tough fight. I bet those heels of hers could be lethal weapons.” He grinned over at Riley. “But I’d put my money on you every time.”

  “Why does she always show up when I look like crap? It’s like the universe sends her a text message or something.”

  Beck laughed and ran his arm around her waist. “I love you, even when yer lookin’ all jealous.”

  With a smile, Justine broke away from the priest and walked over to join them.

  “Beck, Riley, good to see you again.”

  Just like we’re old friends.

  They did owe Justine. Her own brand of tenacious come-hell-or-high-water journalism had helped clear Beck of two murders in his hometown.

  “Justine. How goes it?” he asked, his voice warmer than she’d expected.

  “It goes well. I’m doing a series of articles on the increasing need for exorcisms in the U.S. I talked to Father Rosetti and he suggested a couple of cities, one of which was Atlanta. When I called the diocese, they said there was an exorcism scheduled today. I had no idea it involved you and Riley.”

  “Well, yer timin’ is good, as always.”

  Justine hesitated. “I hear you two are engaged. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, we are. Hopin’ to set a date soon,” he said, giving Riley the side-eye.

  Just guilt me in front of your ex-girlfriend.

  “Thanks,” Riley replied. “It’ll probably be sometime in the spring. It’s been kinda busy lately.”

  Justine nodded. “I heard from a source that the National Guild is being draconian with the local Guild, that Master Harper is no longer in charge.” She zeroed in on Riley. “Is it true that you’ve been ordered not to use any magic?”

  Once a reporter, always nosy.

  “Yes. W
hich limits how I can handle trapping demons.”

  Justine frowned. “Why in Heaven’s name would they do that?”

  “I have no idea,” Riley replied.

  “Care to answer a few questions about the exorcism?”

  “Officially, we’re not here,” Beck replied. “Unofficially, that was one badass demon. Two actually.”

  “And the little girl? Will she be okay?”

  Riley answered, looking over at Carrina and her parents. “I think so. She’s tough.”

  “Like you then,” Justine replied, nodding.

  Riley studied her former rival anew.

  “Congratulations on your marriage, by the way,” Beck said.

  “Thank you,” Justine said.

  A quick glance revealed a plain gold band instead of some honking huge diamond. Riley had expected the latter.

  “So who’s the lucky fella?” Beck asked.

  “Philippe is a journalist with Reuters. We met covering a story. He scooped me, and then asked for a date.”

  “Smart man,” Beck replied. He looked over at Simon. “I got a couple things I need to talk over with our exorcist. I’ll be right back,” he said, leaving them alone.

  Silence fell between them. Riley scuffed a toe in the dirt.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Justine said.

  That was for sure. Beck might call Riley his woman, but she always felt like a little girl next to this lady. As if her eighteen years somehow just didn’t measure up.

  “How do you look so good all the time?” Riley blurted. “I’m always a mess and . . . ” She shook her head. “I know, it doesn’t matter, but it sorta does.”

  Justine laughed. “You think I look like this every second of the day?”

  “You have every time I’ve seen you.”

  “Oh no. That’s not how it works.” Justine pulled out her phone, flipped through some photos. “Here, this is what I looked like after I got caught up in a riot in Karachi.”

  Riley looked at the photo and gasped. Justine was covered in mud, her hair a mess and her shirt ripped. Behind her, a cloud of tear gas rolled across the street.

  The reporter scrolled to another picture. “Here’s the riot in Morocco.” More scrolling. “Here’s me in New Delhi after the bomb blast. I can be just as grunged up as anyone.”

  “You’ve just ruined my image of you as a designer airhead.”

  One of Justine’s perfectly plucked eyebrows quirked upward. “And you’re clearly not some stupid kid.”

  They grinned at the same time.

  “You are jealous of me because of Beck,” Justine said. “Because he and I were once lovers.”

  Riley nodded. “That’s part of it.”

  “He’s a good man, but he wouldn’t have been happy with me,” the woman added. “And though I like him very much, he is not like Philippe.”

  “So we both found love.”

  Justine nodded. “We are very fortunate women.” She hesitated. “I would not have been able to handle a husband who is a grand master. Too many secrets. The reporter in me would have had to know all of them.”

  Riley laughed. Beck looked over at them, puzzled, then went back to talking to Simon and the priest.

  “So, off the record, what exactly is going on with the National Guild?” Justine asked.

  Riley groaned. “You are smooth.”

  “In this case, I’m concerned. Demanding that a trapper work without magical spheres is tantamount to forcing the person to commit suicide. That makes me very curious about what is really going on.”

  Riley looked over at Beck and Simon. “Off the record?”

  “You have my word.”

  Which, Riley had learned, was pretty golden.

  “It all began when I was in Edinburgh . . . ”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Justine left shortly after Riley ended her tale. She could tell she’d given the reporter something to think about. After blessing the family, Father Vonn left as well.

  Before the Gills departed, Simon warned the parents not to reenter the house until the demon carcass had been removed—there was someone special the Vatican hired to do that task—and the place had been thoroughly blessed by Father Vonn.

  As their car pulled out of the drive, Riley waved at Carrina. For a moment the girl didn’t respond, then she raised her hand shyly, tears streaking down her cheeks.

  “Make a note, guys: That little girl is going to be one of the Vatican’s Demon Hunters someday,” she said. “It might be an all-boys club now, but that’s going to change.”

  Simon gave her a strange look as the family drove away. “You may be right. Carrina’s been forged in fire,” he said. “The pope says that experiences like hers make the most committed warriors against the darkness.”

  “Like you, then,” Beck said.

  “Like all of us,” Simon replied.

  Silence fell for a time.

  “So, what are you doin’ tonight, Simon?” Beck asked.

  It was an unexpected question.

  “Nothing, after the team clears the house. My folks are at some church event and the sibs are scattered wherever. Why?”

  “Well, I’ve found that after a big thing like this, it’s best to get some food and chill down. Ease back into real life.”

  “Oh, I see.” Which told Riley he’d probably never done that before.

  “You like barbecue?” Beck asked. Simon nodded. “Ever had Mama Z’s?”

  “No. Is it good?”

  “You’ve never had Mama Z’s?” Beck exclaimed. “Good Lord, man, you’ve been missin’ out. It’s what barbecue would be like in Heaven, if they had that kinda thing.”

  “It’s really good. He’s not blowing smoke here,” Riley added.

  “How about we pick up some, and you come over to our place to eat,” Beck offered. “We can see the house, hang, talk about whatever. No pressure.”

  Simon gave the idea serious consideration. “I have to stay to release the corpse. The clean-up crew should be here in about thirty minutes or so.”

  “Fine. How’s about I stay here with you?” He looked over at Riley at this point. “Can you pick up the supper, and we’ll slip back home when we’re done here?”

  “Sure.” Because she always loved walking into a restaurant looking like the Wrath of God and smelling worse.

  “That work for you?” Beck asked their companion.

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Simon said, smiling. “I’ll go back up and start cleaning. See you soon, Riley.”

  As he walked into the house, she shot Beck a look. “I’m happy that you invited him. But why did you?”

  “I know he’s been trained to handle this kind of thing, but he’s gonna be too much in his own head right now. He needs to be around other folks who understand. And besides, I like him.”

  “At one point, you couldn’t stand him.”

  “Only because he was dating my girl. Now? I think he’s a good dude.” Beck bopped the end of her nose with a finger. “And I just love seein’ you all green-eyed jealous every time you and Justine get together.”

  “You are a dog, Denver Beck.”

  He grabbed her up, planted a kiss on her lips that made her body sing, then let her go. “Get lots of food. I’m starved.”

  Then he was off toward the house, whistling a tune.

  One of a kind. That’s what her father had said about the poor boy from South Georgia. Got that right.

  *~*~*

  Riley hurried home, took a fast shower, then went to Mama Z’s. She returned home only a few minutes before Simon and Beck pulled up. The guys were joking back and forth, laughing. Simon had always been so serious, and now he was razzing Beck about some song they’d listened to on the radio. He carried a duffle bag, probably containing a change of clothes. All
the trappers had them in their cars.

  Once the guys had taken their showers and changed, they joined Riley at the table, where she had laid out pork, chicken, and beef barbecue with all the trimmings. Simon said grace, then they fell on the food like they hadn’t eaten in a week. By the time the guys started to slow down, Riley was done.

  “This was great. Please let me kick in some cash for the meal,” Simon said.

  “Thanks, but it’s our treat. Our way of thankin’ you for keepin’ Riley workin’ while National gets its head out of its ass,” Beck said, wiping a smear of sauce off his lips.

  Riley rose from her chair. “There’s brownies and ice cream for dessert, so leave a bit of room.”

  “Too late,” Simon replied. “I haven’t had this good a meal since I was in Rome. And for God’s sake, don’t tell my mother that or she’ll kill me.”

  They all laughed.

  Beck finished eating a short time later, so Riley scooted them into the living room. Simon claimed a chair while the other two sprawled on the couch.

  “So what was the most memorable thing while you were on sabbatical?” she asked, her feet curled up under her as she leaned against Beck. His arm went around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  Simon thought for a moment, then said, “Masada.”

  “The fortress?”

  “Yeah. It overlooks the Dead Sea.” He paused. “I met a rabbinical student. His name was Yair. We talked about God and destiny and what was wrong in the world.”

  “On top of that mountain?” Beck asked.

  “To start with, then he invited me to join him in Jerusalem. He walked me through some of the older sections, took me to the Wailing Wall.” Simon pointed at the T-shirt he wore, one with small sparks flying upward on the front of it. “Yair gave me this. He said it was our job to find the sparks of light, nurture them, and slowly heal the world.”

  “Heal the world,” Riley murmured. “I like that.”

  “So do I. My last night in Israel we had dinner with Hasim, a friend of his named. He’s Muslim.”

  “One from each of the three big religions,” Beck said.

  Simon nodded. “We talked about everything. About God, about our lives, about war and death and Hell,” he said, quieter now. “I learned a lot that night.”