Fated to Return (The Death Eater Series Book 3)

by Catherine Stovall

  She lay there for a long time, listening to the world outside. She knew she needed to wake him. They had the demon’s name. All that remained between them and freeing Zane was finding a priest who would believe them, and who could perform the exorcism. Every moment she delayed, she risked his life and hers. However, she couldn’t bring herself to move.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he grumbled into the back of her neck.

  A warm tingle of desire crept up her spine and fear made her skitter from the bed. “Good morning, love.” Stretching her aching muscles, she added, “You slept very well.”

  His eyes traced the line of the shirt she wore as it inched up her bare thighs with every movement. “I’ve waited a very long time to lay my head down next to yours without the fear that you will fade away come sunrise.” His voice was a husky mixture of sleep and desire as he growled, “C’mere.”

  “Zane…” her words trailed as she studied his handsome face.

  “Vega, come here.” He folded back the covers and the early morning light danced on his muscles.

  “We. Can’t.” She bit her lip, trying to force the refusal from her lips, even as she imagined pressing them against the hard lines of his stomach.

  Something fierce flashed in his eyes for a moment, and then he sighed. “I forgot. I’m sorry. It’s just…so many times I held you in the darkness. I’ve cried as I’ve made love to you, because I knew. I knew when the sun rose you’d be gone. Now, I have you here in the light of day, and I can’t have you.”

  Vega slipped on a pair of jeans, and went to the bed. Swallowing her fear, she pulled him into her arms and held him. She had made the deal with the demon to save Zane, and yet he had suffered more than she ever had. With each life, she’d had the good fortune to forget the last, while he had been forced to watch her live, love, and die time and time again.

  “I’m so sorry, Zane. So sorry,” she whimpered.

  She felt his tears drop onto her arm, but he cried in silent misery. His strong shoulders tensed to prevent them from shuddering, and he clenched his fists. He stayed that way, curled against her, for a long time, simply taking comfort in her embrace. At last, he ran the backs of his hands over his eyes and straightened.

  With a brave smile, he said, “I’m okay. It’s okay. We are okay.” Pulling her in for a long hug, he whispered, “We will find a way to beat this thing.”

  “Yes we will. First, you have to get up and get dressed. I’ve got a few things to do.” She paused and kissed him deeply. “Go grab a shower while I search out some stuff we are going to need.”

  Zane groaned, stretched, and tossed her a scintillating smile, before he trotted off to the bathroom. Alone in the quiet, Vega looked around her. Somehow, having him even a few feet away made her feel alone. As if his presence had been the only warmth in the room, she suddenly felt cold.

  To battle the chill, she slipped back under the covers, pausing for a moment to treasure the scent and heat left from Zane’s body. The sheets cooled too quickly, and left her feeling hollow inside. Shaking off her longing, she opened the top drawer on the bedside table. The requisite copies of the King James Bible and a phone book lay tucked inside next to a notepad and a sharp number two pencil.

  She had nowhere to start, no idea how to find someone to help them, but doing nothing would only kill her and destroy Zane. With a deep breath, she grabbed up the phone book and searched for churches.

  Tapping the pencil against her lips, Vega mumbled, “In the movies, it’s always a catholic priest.” Her finger traced down the list of churches as she jotted down names and numbers. Saint Mary, Saint Alfonzo, Saint Leo, and Sacred Heart Cathedral were all nearby. Vega aimlessly wondered if there was a church, somewhere, that honored the priest that had helped save them from Eurynome. She didn’t even know the man’s name.

  She had a list of numbers, the demon’s name, and the knowledge of what Zane was, but little more. There was no way anyone would believe her, but she dialed anyway.

  “Saint Mary Cathedral. How may I help you?”

  Vega cringed at the sound of the woman’s nasal tone. “Hi. I was wondering if I might talk to a priest, please.”

  “May I ask what this is concerning?”

  “I…um…I’d rather not say. It’s private.”

  “Ma’am, confessions are held seven days a week at varying times. Would you like more information?” Irritation was already eking into the woman’s voice.

  “Look, I just have a quick question. Isn’t there anyone available?”

  “Ma’am. You are more than welcome to schedule an appointment, Father Able holds meetings the third Wednesday of every month. You may also come to services or to confession.”

  “No. No, thank you. Have a great day.” Vega hung up the phone and stared at the list in her hand. Feeling dejected, she bumped her head against the headboard and groaned.

  “Trouble?” Zane came out of the small bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and beads of water dripping down his sculpted torso. He ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving it in spiky disarray as he threw her another careless grin.

  “Put some clothes on, you ass.” Without thinking, her hand snatched up the bible and chucked it at his head.

  In a simple motion, he dodged the heavy volume. “Touchy. Not even a week into our reunion and you’re already throwing stuff, sweetheart. Here I thought we’d at least have a honeymoon phase.”

  Vega refused to look at him, refused to give into the urge to either kiss him or slap him. Instead, she stared down at the open phone book. “If I didn’t need this so bad, I would throw it at you too. Stop being so damn cavalier about everything. It isn’t funny. We are never going to find a priest to do an exorcism. I can’t even get one to talk to me. And….” Her words trailed away as she glanced up.

  Zane stood across the room, his arms stretched above his head and his jeans riding low on his hips. As he slipped the black t-shirt over his messy hair, the muscles on his back rippled and stretch in a decadent dance of temptation.

  He turned and she jerked her eyes downward, heat rising to her cheeks. Strange to know he knew her better than she’d ever know herself. Even stranger to only remember their couplings as flashes of love and passion when he remembered everything. She wanted to know him as he knew her, but he wasn’t really him—not completely. Remembering the demon was like a splash of ice water on her heated skin.

  “Hey, what’s this?”

  His voice cut through her running thoughts, bringing her mind back to their present situation. “What are you talking about?” She looked up, not knowing what to expect.

  Zane had stooped down to retrieve the bible. As he stood, he held it loosely in one hand while the other clutched a small white card. He paused, reading the back, and handed it to her.

  “Looks like we may have just found our answer.”

  Vega turned the card over in her hand, reading the words aloud. “Thomas Koskinen: Exorcist, Demonologist, and Spiritual Advisor.” She snorted in disbelief, “That’s got to be a hoax. You know these types of guys are all smoke and mirrors and bullshit.”

  Zane sighed. “It’s the best shot we’ve got. Try to be positive. No one in this day and age believes in demons, Vega, not even the church.”

  “Irony at its best. Let me grab a shower while you pack the car. We might as well give this demon guru a go. There’s one of those big we-carry-everything stores across the street, we can run over and grab us some supplies on the way.”

  ****

  Within the hour, Zane and Vega had used her newfound wealth to purchase clothes, a cell phone, and other supplies. Their shopping trip lightened their mood, and as they walked to the car, they held hands—almost feeling normal.

  As Zane placed their bags in the backseat, Vega watched. Her eyes lit up with the fire of the girl he’d known in their first lifetime, and he felt his heart leap. Without warning, he grabbed her, pulled her close, and placed a kiss on her lips that spoke volumes of how the moment ma
de him feel.

  For a moment, she melted into his kiss, but forced herself to pull away. “Zane…”

  He placed his finger on her lips to stop the words from coming. “Don’t say it. I know I’m not whole. I know I’m not myself. I just wanted to kiss you. This is the best moment we’ve shared in a very, very long time.”

  The tears sprang to her eyes, and Vega leaned in, giving him a kiss to rival the one they’d shared a moment before. Pulling away, she whispered, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He murmured the words into her hair as he held her tight.

  With a poke to his ribs, Vega giggled. “Come on, let’s go do this.”

  ****

  The sign in the yard looked exactly like Thomas Koskinen’s business card and was the only thing that distinguished the two-story brownstone from all the rest. A neatly trimmed lawn boasted small shrubs and flowers, and even a little garden gnome bravely guarded the cobblestone walk.

  “Well this is the very last place I would have expected to find a Hoodoo Doctor,” Vega quipped.

  Zane snorted. “Vega!” Between hushed chuckles, he grabbed her hand, and led her up the walk.

  “What?” She tried to look innocent, but a spark of mischief gleamed in her eyes.

  They both fell silent, as the stepped up on the wide front porch, and Zane rang the doorbell. Within minutes, they heard a voice call out and the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “If he’s so powerful, how come he didn’t know we were here?” Vega whispered from the corner of her mouth.

  Zane gave her an impatient frown. “Nowhere on his card did it say that he was psychic. Quit playing around.”

  Vega opened her mouth to pop off with another quick retort, but the door opened at the same time, effectively silencing her. Her mouth still agape, she stared at the man before them.

  “You must be Vega and Zane,” the gentleman greeted them as he shoved his hand forward.

  Zane smiled, turning on all his charm. “Yes, sir. Thank you for agreeing to see us.” When Vega did not add to his sentiments, he turned to nudge her.

  Her expression remained a mix of surprise and disbelief. Eyes held wide, she stared forward as the blood drained from her face. Though her lips trembled, she could not manage to make a sound.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” Thomas asked, real concern etching into his handsome features.

  Vega blinked, once, then twice, and slowly nodded. “It’s just that…you look so familiar.”

  Zane took her arm pulling her closer to him, and whispered, “Please tell me you’re not joking around.”

  Vega frowned, deep lines etching at the corners of her pretty mouth. “Zane Allistor, how dare you?” Her bubbling rage disintegrated the confusion that had clouded her mind, and she turned her attention to Thomas. “Please forgive my rudeness. You very closely resemble someone that I once knew. I apologize.”

  In response, the exorcist turned and motioned for them to enter his home. “I understand. Déjà vu can be a very powerful conduit for the spirits. Sometimes, it can knock us off our guard. If it isn’t too personal, may I ask who?”

  The interior of the house was clean, orderly, and as non-descript as one could make a home. Vega paused, just inside the entryway, her eyes searching for something that might trigger the name. “I don’t remember his name. He was a boy I once knew, a very very long time ago. Somewhere hot, somewhere that the dust storms destroyed. My brother, I think.” She focused harder, feeling the room sway, but unable to stop herself from trying to push through the din of her memories into her past life.

  “Excuse me? Did you say dust storms?” Thomas stared at her, pondering her strange words. “There haven’t been dust storms in this country that bad since the depression.”

  Zane grabbed her arm, trying to propel her forward and shut her mouth. “She’s tired. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  Thomas had the look of someone who knew they were being lied to, but could almost accept the lie more than the truth. Without warning, his hand snaked out and gripped Vega’s wrist, bare skin on bare skin. She tried to jerk away, but in a moment of intense shock, she locked eyes with the man and began to tremble.

  Zane growled, his outrage instantly bringing the demon to the surface, but his concern for Vega holding it back from the killing edge. With a hard shove, he screamed, “Get off her!”

  Thomas stumbled and fell, breaking his hold on Vega. “I’m sorry,” his voice sounded weak. “I didn’t mean to. I had to know.”

  Zane hovered above him, fist clenched at his sides, chest heaving, and the demon dancing in the reflection of his eyes. “Give me one reason that I shouldn’t kill you now?”

  Vega, still too shocked to intervene, quietly whispered, “Zane, no.”

  Using his feet to scoot his body, Thomas tried to back away. “I said I’m sorry. I had to know. You can’t kill me. Please don’t hurt me. I can help you. I swear to God, I can help you.”

  “God? What do I care of God or your help?” Zane was no longer speaking. The demon had risen, full force, and it was hungry again.

  Thomas held up his hands, as if he could somehow fend off the invisible link that had already begun to wrap itself around him­—a deadly python preparing to attack.

  Zane took a step nearer, a feral smile pulling at his lips. “And the angel said unto me, ‘Ye may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses, and of them that sit on them, and the flesh of all men, both free and bound, both small and great.’”

  Thomas squirmed, his back arching as the first whips of pain lashed into his skin. His voice rose in a cry of agony as he struggled. After a long minute, his body went slack, muscles twitching. Tears rolled down his scrunched face as he tried to curl into the fetal position.

  “The death is sweet, but it is the torment that gives it the spice I crave. How long do you think you can suffer? How many bones do you think I can snap? How many internal organs do you think I can burst? I think you are a strong man. How long do you think you can withstand the torture before you di—”

  The crash of glass resounded through the room, and Zane fell to the floor. With a final groan, his eyes fluttered, and he lay unconscious at Vega’s feet, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a once pretty vase. Her face held the shock of her actions, but her eyes burned with anger. To hate the demon and love the man was her biggest anguish.

  ****

  Hours later, Vega knelt beside the bed, dabbing a cool cloth to the still seeping wound on Zane’s head. “Are you sure this will work?”

  Thomas stood at the foot of the bed, bible in hand. “I have no clue. How can anyone know how an exorcism will go? Especially when you are dealing with a demon such as Ronwe. The power to manipulate a person’s mind and body is a difficult obstacle.”

  She’d explained everything once Thomas had recovered, and they’d secured the unconscious Zane to a metal bed frame stored in the basement of the house. Though Zane’s attack had been horrifying, it had saved her a lot of time trying to convince the man that the demon was real.

  “You think the drugs will keep him subdued enough not to use that power?” Her doubts were evident in her voice.

  Coming around to the side of the bed, Thomas knelt beside her and took her free hand. “There is no room in this for doubt. You must believe in my ability, in Zane’s strength, and in your devotion. Above all, you must believe in the power of Christ.”

  She studied his eyes, and in them, she saw that he did believe that they could save Zane. “I can. I will. I have no other choice. I did this to him. I’ve made the man I love into a monster that I hate. I will do anything to save him.”

  Thomas patted her hand and nodded. “Then let us begin.”

  Vega stood beside Thomas, their heads bowed as his voice rose in prayer. She focused on his words as he asked the Lord to bless them, protect them, forgive them their sins, and to assist them as they fought to rid his servant of th
e demon.

  When the prayer was finished, he produced a vial of holy water. First anointing and crossing himself, he then did the same for her. All the while, his eyes held hers, dancing with the belief she’d seen in them before.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Facing Zane’s unconscious body, Thomas raised the holy water in one hand, and made the sign of the cross with the other. Name after Holy name, he invoked the Lord, Christ, the Holy Spirit, and the Saints. After each name, he flicked his wrist and sent a splash of holy water sailing onto Zane. Where the droplets touched flesh, smoke rose up in wispy tendrils.

  Through the endless names, Zane did not budge. He lay as if merely sleeping, the hit to the head and the heavy dose of valium working to keep him unaware. Finally, just as Vega uttered the phrase, “Pray for us,” he stirred.

  Her fingers gripped the metal rails on the footboard, the metal a cool reminder to stand her ground as she repeated the words. Her eyes locked on Zane’s form as he moved, arching his back and pulling at his restraints with his eyes still closed. Her heart went out to him, her beloved, he looked as if he were suffering a nightmare. She had to fight the urge to go to him.

  Thomas continued, reciting the Lord’s Prayer and then reading Psalm 53 aloud, and Vega followed suit as she’d been told. The room grew unbearably hot, and then unbearably cold. Together they sweated and shivered as Zane moaned, trembled, and pulled at the tight ropes that bound his hands and feet.

  Vega fought the doubt that wanted to creep into her mind. Watching his vague response seemed anti-climatic compared to what she had been prepared to witness. She prayed silently as she spoke the prayers Thomas had instructed her to say aloud. Her inner voice called out to God, begging him to release Zane from the demon’s grip.