by Debra Dunbar
Dar nodded, leaning back against the table. “Good idea. Or maybe the human he’s possessing has something he needs.”
“What? As a demon, he’d be able to take just about anything he wants. Or he could just Own the human he needs—steal his soul and manifest his likeness.”
The demon shook his head. “You’d sense an Own; that’s pretty dramatic. No, I’m thinking stealth is the likeliest motive. He’d have to work quick, though, before the humans caught onto the possession. Whatever’s going down is probably happening in the next few days.”
And she was leaving tomorrow. “What would he be planning? I thought he’d be angry and rampaging around without a plan, especially since he’s a warmonger. This kind of thing takes restraint, and patience.”
Dar tilted his head as he regarded her. “We’re not completely without virtues; we just use them to suit our needs. Yeah, there are some ancients who have no control over themselves at all, but some of us can plan and plot. It’s what makes for a good demon.”
Great. She had a genie on the loose, an old and powerful one who was most likely hidden away in a human body, plotting world domination and/or destruction. And she was leaving in one day. “You’ve spent your life with demons; what do you think this guy could be planning?”
“I don’t know. Ask him—ask Rubeus.”
Like she even knew where the genie was. Even if she did, Asta could hardly imagine walking up to a powerful demon and asking him to kindly reveal his evil plot.
“Right. And how would Rubeus react if I ‘asked him’?” She couldn’t help the sarcastic tone creeping into her voice.
“He’d most likely tell you to fuck off.”
“This is ridiculous.” She felt ready to explode, and Dar with his casual indifference wasn’t helping. “I don’t know who he’s possessing—if he’s even truly possessing anyone. This genie has escaped me. I’ve failed. My last week on assignment and I failed big-time.”
“You haven’t failed. You’ve got one more day, and you know exactly who he’s possessing. It’s Phelps. That’s the only reason that makes sense as to why Rubeus didn’t kill him the moment he was released.”
Carter. Oh no. She wracked her brain trying to remember how he’d seemed at the café. He’d been angry and cold, but he hadn’t appeared to be a man possessed by a demon. Could she even tell if he was? Crust on toast, she’d had a latte with a demon riding a human and hadn’t even known it?
Asta rubbed her forehead. There was plenty of time to meditate about her ineptitude once she returned to Aaru. Right now there was a genie to catch and banish. “How do I get Rubeus out? Find a priest, I assume?”
“Or kill Phelps,” Dar suggested cheerfully. “That’s probably quicker than finding a priest. In spite of what everyone claims on the Internet, not many are willing or able to perform exorcisms anymore.”
“I’m not killing a human.”
“Why not? Other angels do, and I think this might qualify as a special circumstance.”
“I don’t kill humans.” Although, right now, she was seriously considering killing the pesky demon in front of her. “We’re here to preserve the human’s ability to evolve without demonic interference.”
“Well, killing Phelps would best achieve that goal. Either Rubeus will die with him, or he’ll have to form his own body, and then you can take him out. Dead demon, and it would only cost you one human. Or you can wait for Phelps to die a natural death, and then kill Rubeus. Dead demon and a few-million dead humans.”
“I’m not killing him. I won’t do it.”
“That’s stupid.”
“I’m not stupid.”
“You may not be stupid, but this decision of yours clearly is.” Dar turned his back on her and opened a block of cheese.
“Killing him would make me no better than a demon myself.” How could she get this through his thick head? Dar’s solution to everything seemed to be either sex or murder. There had to be another way.
“You’d be better off as a demon.” Dar turned around again, nibbling on the cheddar. “No wonder you all are rotting away up in Aaru—no one can make a decision without a million years of deliberation and everything filled out in triplicate, and no one can take action when it’s clearly the best alternative.”
“I’ll talk to him. Maybe Phelps can oust Rubeus if I help him. Otherwise, I’m going to hit up the yellow pages for a priest.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that. I’ll be scarfing down some curry if you need me.”
Chapter 18
We’ve got an issue.” Wyatt burst into Dar’s hotel room. “Phelps wasn’t doing anything but working the convention, so I set up shop in the concession area and dug deeper into the code behind Ouroboros. It’s a Trojan.”
Dar popped the last bit of cheese into his mouth. “As in condom? The entire business world is now having safe sex thanks to Genus Micro?”
“Trojan horse.” Wyatt paced in agitation. “The largest corporations, governments, millions of individuals have installed software that with the right trigger will lock them out and give complete control to the hacker.”
Well, that made a lot more sense than condoms.
“Guess that was his third wish.” At the human’s blank look, he realized no one had clued Wyatt into what they had found—or rather, didn’t find earlier. “The genie wasn’t in the bottle when the mage opened it. Phelps must have made his last wish before we stole it.”
The human’s eyes grew huge. “So there’s an angry genie running around the city? I’m glad my plane leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming that’s why Asta isn’t here?”
“No, Asta isn’t here because she got pissed at me and went off to find a priest. We can’t sense the genie anywhere, and she’s convinced the demon is possessing Phelps.”
If Wyatt’s eyes got any bigger, his eyeballs were going to roll right out of his head. “Why would a demon want to possess a human? He’d only have a fraction of his powers.”
Dar made an approving noise. “My thoughts exactly. Asta thinks he’s doing it to hide from her and buy himself time for whatever evil he’s planning.”
Yep, those baby-blue eyes were in danger of hitting the floor. “The software. If the genie is possessing Phelps, then he’ll just need to let loose a virus, and he’ll have control of every major corporation and government in the world.”
“Yeah, for all of ten seconds until some other computer genius cuts him off or goes to backup or something.”
“No, ten seconds is all it takes. He can crash the ones he doesn’t want, burrowing worms deep inside their systems that will take months to eradicate. Did your mage find out what kind of demon was in the bottle?”
“Warmonger.” Dar snorted. “Some dude named Rubeus. I don’t know him, but I was pretty young when he got summoned. He’s old and evidently powerful enough to make Kirby nearly wet his pants.”
“Warmonger.” Wyatt began pacing again. “I give him less than twenty-four hours and he’ll act. Crash that many systems and he’ll destabilize the global market. This demon will have a perfect playing field to sow the seeds of war—currency devaluation, scarcity of resources, possibly even missile launches.”
Either Phelps was a bad, bad man, far more devious then any of them had thought, or Asta was right. With a demon riding him, Phelps would have no choice but to go along with whatever Rubeus wanted. Dar thought of the angel off looking for a priest willing to perform an exorcism and cursed. This would be so simple if she’d just kill Phelps.
***
“You want me to what?”
Asta clenched her fists in exasperation. This was beyond frustrating. She’d exhausted the entire Archdiocese of Chicago without success. It was hard to believe that with nearly four-hundred parishes, none of the priests knew how or were willing to exorcise a demon. This guy was her last resort before branching into Milwaukee and south to Indiana. The next step after that was the Internet, and who knows what kind of quacks she’d have to wade through before
finding a legitimate exorcist there.
And who knows how much damage Rubeus would do while she raced around looking for one.
“There’s a demon who is possessing someone. I need him yanked out without hurting the human.”
Father Donell nodded sympathetically. “Have you taken this person to a psychiatrist for evaluation? I’d be happy to administer spiritual counseling, but in these cases, I’d highly recommend seeking the aid of a medical professional first.”
This priest would be sending her for a psychiatric evaluation after this conversation, but Asta had no time to tiptoe around the situation. “It’s a real demon. He was summoned from Hel hundreds of years ago and trapped in a bottle—so he’s really grumpy right now. A human with extremely poor judgment activated the contract, and after granting three wishes, the demon was freed and possessed him.”
The man’s left eyebrow twitched, and he looked longingly at the exit. “How unfortunate for the poor man. I still believe an evaluation and possibly some anti-psychotic medication would be helpful.”
“It’s a possession, not a mental health problem. I thought you all did this sort of thing? Do priests no longer believe in angels or demons?”
Father Donell huffed indignantly. “Of course we do, but today we need to take a careful approach. We work with medical professionals to narrow down a diagnosis before we go racing in with a crucifix and a bible. I’d be negligent in my duty to my parishioners if I didn’t consider all possible causes to a problem.”
“I appreciate that, but we don’t have time. Plus we’d never get him to submit to a psychiatric evaluation. Can I just schedule an exorcism? Preferably within the next few hours?”
“No, you cannot ‘just schedule an exorcism’. We have guidelines to follow. It would be irresponsible of me, not to mention terribly unprofessional, to proceed without a doctor’s evaluation.”
Asta opened her mouth, only to snap it shut. Angels had rigid guidelines too, but a century among the humans had made her impatient with all this red tape. Sometimes you just need to act. But wasn’t that a slippery slope?
“Even then,” the priest continued, “we need to ensure the person isn’t cursed. A curse can often appear as a possession. An exorcism on a cursed individual at best won’t work, and, at worst, will cause irreparable damage to their mental stability.”
Enough of this wasting time. Asta stood back to allow herself adequate space to reveal her wings. Which she did, spreading them as far as she safely could in the office. Just in case that wasn’t enough, she dropped her hold on her physical form and shimmered, becoming an indistinct humanoid blur.
It was too much. Father Donell turned an alarming pasty color and clutched his chest. Asta dove for him, but the priest clearly misunderstood her intentions. With a garbled noise, he hit her in the face with a stapler and fell to the floor.
This wouldn’t do at all. She’d never live it down if the other angels found out she’d killed a priest. Hiding her wings and returning to her more familiar shape, she dropped down beside the man. She might not be all that good at enthralling, but at least she could heal. Slapping her hands onto his chest, she poured the dark gold energy into him, soothing his heart into a normal rhythm.
The door opened. Asta saw a pair of black loafers and heard a gasp.
“Call an ambulance. He’s had a heart attack.”
The loafers rushed off, and she went ahead and searched through his body, rebuilding damaged blood vessels, removing a few gallstones, and taking care of that ominous shadow around his prostate. She’d nearly killed the guy; this was the least she could do.
By the time the medics wheeled Father Donell from the office, Asta was getting desperate.
“Do any of you know an exorcist?”
Both the paramedics and the man with the loafers looked at her as if she’d gone insane.
“Have you tried the Internet?” The two ambulance guys laughed at their own joke.
“I’m sorry,” Loafers said. “I don’t know of an exorcist, but I can recommend another priest to hear your confession.”
Confession? Oh that would go over well. Forgive me Father; in the last century I have stolen shoes and clothing, rigged the lottery, consumed forbidden food and beverage, and risked human detection by flying in the city. Oh, and last night I enjoyed carnal relations with a demon. She’d already sent one priest to the hospital. This wasn’t something she wanted to become a habit.
Still, she took the scrap of paper Loafers held out to her and watched as they loaded Father Donell into the ambulance. Maybe this parish should win some money. Did Catholic priests play scratch-offs?
The ambulance drove off. Loafers went back inside. Asta looked down at the paper. Father Athmor. She could visit him or start Googling. Asta looked up at the sun, calculating the time to sunset. If she was quick, she might be able to catch this priest before the convention closed for the evening. And if that didn’t work out, she’d have a long evening in front of a computer.
Father Athmor looked like a particularly stern Bloodhound with a crucifix permanently attached to his right hand. His baldhead reflected the light as he bent over the worn book before him.
“So, what makes you think your friend is possessed?”
Asta sighed. Here comes the diagnosis stuff. “I... I just know. Carter released a demon named Rubeus from an artifact. If the demon isn’t stopped, the results will be devastating.”
“So your friend—no speaking previously unknown languages, inhuman strength, knowing things Carter would have no way of knowing?”
Where was he going with this? “Well, I’m sure the demon knows many languages, but I haven’t spoken to him. Nor have I tested his knowledge. And he wouldn’t have his demonic strength while possessing a human body.”
“That’s typical. Sometimes those traits don’t appear until during the exorcism. I’ll be able to tell right away if there’s a demon.”
“Good.” It was about time someone expressed confidence in their ability to handle this. She had been beginning to lose faith in the human race. “It sounds as if you’ve done this before?”
“I’ve ousted hundreds of them over the years. It’s never an easy process, but if it’s a demon, I can get him out of there.”
“How long will it take?”
The priest rubbed his thumb rhythmically over the raised pattern on the crucifix. “Time is in the hands of God. Sometimes the demon is uprooted at once, but not always. Occasionally they come back. Even if we oust the demon, you’ll need to continue to monitor Carter to ensure he doesn’t become possessed again.”
This was turning into a long-term project—one that would continue after she went back to Aaru. She’d need to make sure she killed Rubeus, otherwise he was going to be the bad penny that kept showing up again and again.
“I’ve got most of the supplies—holy water, oil, and salt—but there are a few things I’m going to need your help with,” the priest continued.
“Will you need a pig?” Asta wasn’t sure where she was going to get a pig in downtown Chicago, but if this priest needed one, she’d find a way.
“A pig?” The watery blue eyes met hers. “What would I need a pig for?”
“To put the demon in? I don’t know. Someone told me you needed a pig.” Dratted Dar and his stories. Now she looked like a total fool.
“No, I don’t need a pig.”
Asta shifted in her chair. This guy reminded her of the Revered Ancient One. How odd to feel insignificant when facing a man barely eighty years old. “He’s pretty old—Rebeus. I’ll give you a hand killing the demon once you get him out of the human.”
Father Athmor sat back, fingering the crucifix clenched in his hand. “My dear, even I cannot kill a demon. It would take a host of angels to do that.”
Probably not a whole host of angels, but Asta was a bit unsure of her ability to kill this particular demon. She might need to call in the boss. “Or the Ancient Revered One, Archangel Michael. He’s got a swor
d that takes care of the really powerful ones.”
The priest nodded approvingly. “Yes, but I don’t exactly have the archangels on speed-dial. I can exorcise this demon and banish him. Killing him will have to wait until the Parousia, when Christ comes again.”
Or until I get my hands on him. Not that Father Athmor needed to know that. It was fine if this man thought she was a human. After what happened at the last parish, she wasn’t about to go revealing her wings, or her true nature, to any other priest. Instead, she sat with her hands clasped in her lap, smiling as the man told her of rebellious angels, and the war that resulted in a third of the heavens being cast out. He got a few things wrong, but the tale was surprisingly accurate given that it had occurred before the humans had anything beyond the most basic of communication skills.
“The Ritual will cast out the demon in the case of possession but won’t address other types of demonic influence. I’m just letting you know that if the demon has infested the man’s dwelling, or is causing him ill health, as in a case of demonic oppression, then I won’t be able to help you.”
“Oh, it’s a possession. I’m completely sure it’s a possession.”
Darned if the man didn’t give her a patronizing look. Asta was tempted to unfurl her wings. Maybe after he was done with the exorcism, just to teach him a lesson in the folly of pride.
“Will you be able to bring the man to me, or is he confined to his home?”
The conference was ending today, but Asta was fairly certain where Rubeus could be found. “He continues to work, but he has a hotel room. We can perform the exorcism there.”
The priest’s grip on the crucifix tightened. “He’s out and about? Working? Isn’t he a danger to others and himself?”
“Yes. I can’t exactly lock him away without a court order, or without hurting the possessed human. Besides, we only just found out about it this morning. I figured finding a priest was the most important item on my to-do list.”
