by Ilana Waters
“There’s more?” Philip echoed. “There’s worse? I don’t know, Arthur.” He winced again as he took the ice pack off his head and set it on the tray. “I’d like to believe all this, but the truth is, you’re getting on in years. It’s not unheard-of for senility to start setting in around now.” Arthur’s face hardened, but Philip didn’t see it. “And if you were being mind-controlled by someone,” he gave me a guarded look, “how would you even know? When a man gets to be your age—”
“That’s it!” shouted Arthur. He stood up so quickly he nearly knocked over his chair. “I’ve tried to be patient, but this is bollocks. Philip, have I ever done anything daft in all the years you’ve known me? Has my character changed so much since I met Joshua that you don’t recognize me anymore? I’m as fighting fit as I ever was, both in body and in mind. So stop talking to me like I’m a five-year-old who needs a bloody nap! There are things in this world you don’t understand, but you should be trying to understand instead of dismissing them as evil.” Arthur sat down roughly in his chair as Philip stared at him, wide-eyed. I confess he was not the only one.
“But if you are in your right mind,” Philip said softly, “then you betrayed me. Betrayed the PIA.” His voice grew louder. “You knocked me unconscious, for fuck’s sake!”
“I am genuinely sorry for that, Philip,” Arthur said. “Really I am. But I had good reason.” Arthur explained our new situation with the demon, Oblivion.
“And that’s why we broke into the senior members’ offices,” he finished. “Remember that huge light you saw? That was the lemniscate.”
“Strange,” said Abigail. “Making the lemniscate is common in several Wiccan spells. I’ve done it many times and never experienced what you described.”
“Nor I,” said Titus.
“Who knows?” I said. “Maybe it’s the Oblivion in us.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I mean me.”
“You really are possessed by a demon.” Philip’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he shrank back in his chair. This was indeed a change from the Philip who always acted so superior, who caused me quite a bit of trouble in the past. There was a part of me that enjoyed seeing him squirm, and I’m sorry to say it wasn’t the demon.
“And if you are,” he continued, “then how do we know it’s really you? What if it’s the demon talking right now?” He turned to Arthur. “This demon situation changes things. Even if everything you’ve told me is true, and you have good reason for your actions, I’m obligated to tell the PIA about your involvement. And I’m going to.”
“No, you’re not,” Arthur said. “We need your help keeping this whole thing quiet until we can figure out what to do. You can also help me see if the PIA has anything else on demons that could be of use.” Philip started shaking his head, but Arthur wasn’t finished.
“This is different from a simple demon possession like you see in the movies. It’s more than some mindless devil taking a body for a joyride, making its head spin around, or inducing projectile vomiting. This is a demon using Joshua to take over the world and cause unspeakable horrors. The stakes are decidedly higher.”
Arthur put his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. “Philip, when you were brought into the PIA, you wanted to make a difference. To do something important, like your father and grandfather always hoped you would. Now, we’re offering you that chance.”
Almost a full minute passed before Philip spoke. “And if I refuse to help?” he asked.
Titus groaned. “I think we’re all overlooking the simplest solution to this problem. We make him do what we want. Certain mortal minds are quite malleable. I’m sure his would give us no trouble.”
Philip jumped up from the couch and backed away. “Don’t you even try. If you so much as . . . I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
“You’ll what?” My father smirked. “Please, do try it, whatever it is.” He leaned forward and cracked his knuckles, which made me cringe. “I enjoy working up an appetite. Which brings us to the other simple solution to our problem.” Philip turned nearly as pale as my father.
“Ignore him,” Abigail sighed. “It works for me.”
Philip looked back and forth from Titus to Arthur. “But Arthur,” he protested, “even if this weren’t ridiculously dangerous, it goes against everything we believe in.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Arthur shook his head. “Oh, it goes against the tenets of the PIA, of course. But if you believe in saving the world and preventing a demon from taking it over, then this should present no conflict whatsoever. So, what do you say, Philip?”
There was another long, pregnant silence. Finally, Philip closed his eyes and sighed, his shoulders sagging. He sat back down on the couch like a deflated balloon.
“Fine,” he said. “As long as—”
“Terrific!” Arthur smiled widely. “Now that that’s settled—”
“Actually, Arthur,” Philip put up his hand, “we may have another problem.”
“A problem worse than demon possession?” I asked. Philip gave a reluctant nod.
“Possibly.” He looked at Arthur. “I’m referring, of course, to the consultants.”
Chapter 9
“The what?” I asked.
“The consultants,” Philip repeated. He removed his glasses and took a handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket. “When a demon makes itself known in a person, it sends up a sort of supernatural flare.” He cleaned the glasses, his thumb slowly circling each lens. “Then, if the demon is considered a threat, it’s only a matter of time until the consultants are dispatched. They’re demon hunters who’ll destroy the noxious beasts no matter where they are. Or whom they’re in.”
I turned to Arthur. “Is there any reason you failed to mention earlier that the PIA has a demon-hunting contingent?”
“I thought it was disbanded years ago,” Arthur said in disbelief. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”
Philip shook his head. “Reduced in number, but not disbanded. They’ve recently begun training heavily again, and are stronger than ever. Not to mention their commitment to their cause is unsurpassed. Most of them had loved ones who were killed by demons or supernatural creatures.”
“Wonderful,” I groaned. “Weapon-wielding consultants with vendettas. Just what we need.”
“If it helps, they usually only send one at a time.” Philip put his glasses back on.
“Yes, but why only send one man?” Titus rubbed his chin. “Why not an entire regiment of soldiers?”
“The PIA is known for its discretion.” Philip glanced at Arthur. “Or at least it used to be. And the only thing worse than having a demon inside a person is having the whole world know about it. If these things are caught early enough, one good consultant is usually all it takes.”
“Any idea when this troublemaker might show up?” asked Abigail.
Philip shook his head again. “There’s no way of knowing. I could try to find out without attracting too much attention, but it’s possible he’s on the move already.”
“Ah, well.” Titus leaned back in his seat. “How much trouble can he be? He’s only a mortal, after all.”
“That’s another thing you can do.” Arthur snapped his fingers and pointed to Philip. “You can help keep the bloke off the scent and away from Joshua.”
“I can?” Philip raised one eyebrow. Then he looked at me. “What joy.”
“Just until we figure this whole thing out,” Arthur added. “In the meantime, you and I need to come up with a cover story for our colleagues.”
“Ah, yes,” said Philip. “The small issue of the PIA destroying us if they learn we’re in league with supernaturals of our own free will. As it stands now, it won’t be long until the members there tonight alert the rest to what happened.”
Arthur frowned for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. “We’ll blame Joshua.”
“You will?” I said.
“Absolutely. We’ll tell everyone that you forced me to help y
ou break into the senior members’ offices. But then, Philip burst in, and before you could get what you were after, you kidnapped me. That way, they won’t suspect I was willingly involved. Philip searched for hours, eventually finding me on the street, but doesn’t know where you took off to.”
“That’s right,” Philip said. “I searched for hours.”
I sighed. “I guess this won’t make me look any better in the PIA’s eyes.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Philip’s smug smile returned, “you didn’t look that good before. And if you’re well behaved, I won’t tell anyone you’re at the Hassler.”
“No, you won’t,” Titus said to Philip, who glanced at him and swallowed hard.
“Oh, bloody hell.” Arthur smacked himself in the head. “I completely forgot. Marcello knows where you’re staying, Joshua. He sent some files over to your room when you first arrived in Rome, remember?”
“Not to worry.” Abigail pinned back a curl that had fallen out of place. “I can easily catch him on his way to work in the morning and make him forget. Just tell me what he looks like and the address of the PIA.”
Arthur did. Then several of us starting yawning, except me. Glancing out the suite’s wall of windows, we could see dawn beginning to light up the sky.
“We’d best be off, then, Philip.” Arthur stood up. “We’ve got colleagues to return to, lies to tell.”
“And well, too,” called Titus. “Otherwise . . .” He smiled at Philip, who quickly rose from his seat.
“Yes, erm,” Philip brushed his lapels, “researching demons, stopping demon hunters . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know how we’re going to accomplish all that without the rest of the PIA finding out.”
“We’ll manage.” Arthur stepped around the ottoman and gave Philip’s arm a slap. “After all, you’re a smart lad. And remember, I’m not as addle-brained as I seem.” Abigail stifled a laugh. Philip pursed his lips, but said nothing.
“By the by, Philip,” I walked over to him, “what was so important about that report on me you couldn’t wait to file it?”
Philip sighed. “Oh, I don’t know. In light of this new demon problem, it seems silly now. It was just the only definitive report of such a creature—erm, someone like you—existing and all. The offspring of a witch and a vampire. As far as I know, I’m the first one to study anything like it.”
“But surely there must be something more worthwhile for the PIA to investigate than an itinerant mage?” I asked.
Philip gave me a hard look. “That’s for the PIA to decide. Besides, once I get into something, there’s nothing that can sidetrack me. I’m like a hound on the scent.”
“Yes, Philip,” I replied. “You do the hounding thing quite well.” He scowled as I walked him and Arthur to the elevator.
“Say, Philip,” Arthur turned to him, “why did you return from Stockholm so early? You never did answer me back at the PIA.”
“Forgive me if I was a bit distracted by all the breaking and entering that was going on,” Philip said.
I put one finger in the air. “Technically, we didn’t break anything.”
Philip gave me a withering look. “If you must know, the trail I was following on that fire witch disappeared. I lost the scent, so to speak.”
“But I thought you were part hound,” I said. Philip gave me another look. This one could have killed plant life.
“And what will you do while Arthur and I try to convince the rest of the PIA there’s a reasonable explanation for tonight’s events?” he asked.
“I suppose I’ll make the lemniscate a few more times to see what it means, and if it can help us stop Oblivion.”
“Please be careful, Joshua!” called Abigail as she brought the dirty water glasses and melting ice bags to the kitchen.
“I know, Mom. You keep telling me,” I called back.
“Yes, and look how well you listen,” grumbled Titus. He rose and stretched his arms. “We have not one, but two individuals in our suite with injuries to the face and head.”
“Well, I’m going to freshen up and be on my way.” Abigail returned from the kitchen. “I have things to do, mortals to brain-boggle.”
“You will go easy on Marcello, won’t you, Abigail?” Arthur asked.
Abigail waved her hand. “He’ll be fine. Won’t be the first man whose mind I’ve messed with.”
“Indeed,” said Titus, coming up behind her.
Philip coughed into his hand. “Yes, erm . . .” he said to Abigail, “thank you for the, ah . . .”
“Anytime,” said Abigail. “You should probably put more ice on that bump, though. Sure you don’t want me to heal it for you?”
“No, no,” Philip said with a tight smile. “I’m fine.”
“Well, good night, then,” she said. “Or good morning, rather. And don’t worry, Philip.” Abigail put her hand on his arm. This time, he only glanced at it. “I know you’ve had a hell of a night, but you’re taking it all quite well. And for what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing.”
“Ah, thank you,” he said. “Again.” Abigail smiled at him. Then she admonished me to put more ice on my eye, said good-bye to Arthur, and disappeared into the bedroom. Philip turned to Titus.
“And thank you, sir, for . . . that is . . .”
“Not killing you?” Titus prompted. “Don’t thank me just yet. I have yet to make any firm decisions on the matter.” He turned to the rest of us. “Good night and good luck to you all. Try not to do anything injurious or fatal to yourselves for a few hours.” He went into the bedroom after Abigail just as the sunlight began making long, wide beams on the floor. I pushed the elevator button, and the doors slid open.
“I think I’ll have another apple before I go,” Arthur said. “Your mum won’t mind, will she, Joshua?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “It’s a good thing you didn’t ask for one before, or she’d have sent you home with a bagful.”
Philip put his hand to his stomach. “After tonight, I don’t think I could eat right now if I tried.”
“Me neither.” Then I realized I hadn’t actually eaten anything that evening at all.
Arthur shrugged. “Suit yourselves. I’ll finish eating here and catch up with you in the lobby, Philip.”
“I’ll go down with him,” I said.
“Just to make sure I don’t do something foolish?” Philip asked. “Like scream to the concierge about mages and demons?”
“Something like that.” We stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. We stood in silence for a few seconds as we descended.
“Never thought I’d be assigned to keep a consultant off one who’s demon-possessed,” Philip finally said. “It looks like I’m in charge of saving your life. Isn’t this special.”
“Believe me, Philip, I’m as thrilled about it as you are.”
“Just keep that demon of yours in check.” He looked at me nervously, then narrowed his eyes. “Because if I see him making overt attempts to harm me—or anyone else—I’ll have no qualms about putting you down.”
“You just make sure ‘protecting’ me doesn’t prevent you from helping Arthur with his demon research,” I replied through gritted teeth.
Honestly, I thought, if Oblivion wants to give Philip a brief pummeling before this is all over, I won’t hold it against him.
Chapter 10
After seeing Philip off, I returned to my bedroom in the penthouse and dozed fitfully for several hours. I kept waking, dreaming, then waking again. Finally, I got up and forced myself to eat some bread. But it was difficult to chew, despite the fact that Abigail bought it from one of Rome’s finest bakeries. I managed to swallow a few bites, but eventually tired of the way it felt like cotton in my mouth.
It occurred to me that this inability to eat or sleep was Oblivion’s doing. I supposed demons had little need for repose or food, at least not the kind most mortals would recognize. None of it was mak
ing me physically uncomfortable, but that wasn’t what concerned me. It was the fact that I wasn’t able to rest. Just think of the additional hours of havoc a demon could wreak if he didn’t need to sleep.
I tried making the lemniscate again and again. I concentrated harder this time, willing the energy to expand so I could see where it led. But at a certain point, every time it got larger, I couldn’t hold it open. It always became too heavy, followed by a sharp pain in my head. Oblivion. I was sure of it.
I decided to call George. I figured I had to tell someone else about this. About Oblivion, his plans, everything. Just in case those who already knew didn’t make it. Of course, if that was the case, the rest of the world might follow shortly, so perhaps calling George was pointless. But I still felt I had to tell someone, so why not my best friend?
“Joshua!” George’s voice was as cheery as always on the other end of the line. “How goes it in Rome-landia? Defeated any more ancient evils?”
Usually, talking to George and hearing his familiar British accent lifted my spirits. But today, it seemed irritating. I was having trouble remembering why I called him. I shifted back and forth uncomfortably in my chair. I couldn’t wait to get off the phone to have some fun. Although the penthouse had its own cocktail bar, I doubted that would satisfy me. Maybe I’d take a walk to a questionable neighborhood. Surely the gentlemen one finds on such street corners would have intriguing potions or powders at hand. Then again, I’d noticed a bellboy in the lobby when I escorted Philip down. If he was still on duty, he might serve as willing entertainment. Or even unwilling . . .
“Josh? You there?”
“What? Yes, I’m here. Sorry. Where are you, George? Still in Stockholm?”
“Oh, yes. Just wrapping things up. You know, souvenirs to buy, blond boys to . . . admire.”
“Naturally.” From George’s tenor, I could see the impish grin on his face, picture his curly red hair, beard, and mustache. He was probably wearing his usual tweed suit, bow tie, and newsboy cap.
