Lucian continued his invocation as if there had been no interruption. “I adjure you in His name, begone from this woman, Rachael Boucher, who is his creature.”
Hissing and spitting in defiance, the Wyrm filled Rachael’s empty socket as it slithered out. Lindsay swallowed hard. The demon hit the floor with a wet slap.
True to its name, the white body was shaped like a maggot, but there the resemblance to a worm ended. The demon had a single horn in the middle of its forehead. Its maw gaped to show row upon row of sharp teeth. Four lines of burned, stunted wings rippled along the Wyrm’s back.
The acrid air of Hell stung her nostrils as if she was standing in the ash again. She remembered the man with the worms in his throat and the other people moaning together. The ghostly tentacle that shot upward from the hole she and Lucian had almost fallen into rose before her frightened eyes.
The demon hissed and squirmed toward her. Six sets of eyes, black pinpoints of hate, covered its face and locked on Lindsay. She saw its lust. It wanted to possess her body like it had Rachael’s. Lindsay’s knees went weak.
“Stand firm, Lindsay!” Lucian’s voice rolled beneath the thunder.
Lindsay saw jackals with long yellow teeth following her brother into the mist. They got Pete. She snapped herself out of the trance and redoubled her effort at prayer. The Wyrm whined and shrank back.
Lucian’s shout startled her. “Kill it, Lindsay! Use the sword!”
She tried to lift the sword and couldn’t do more than scrape the point across the floor. Lucian said to focus; she had to focus. Cursing her size, she concentrated on her prayer and tried to use the light to help her lift the blade. The second time, she managed to bring the tip several inches off the floor. She brought it down, but the Wyrm shied away from the light.
“You bastard!” Caleb’s cry sent the hair on Lindsay’s arms up, and she almost released the hilt. The constable staggered to his feet, his damaged face purple with rage. “What have you done?”
The Wyrm crawled back toward Lucian and Rachael.
“No!” Lindsay yelled.
Lucian cradled Rachael’s limp form and raised his hand. The demon snarled at him.
Sweat soaked Lindsay’s hair as she concentrated all the power from the light into her arms. Come on, God. She raised the heavy sword but the Wyrm evaded the blade again. Her light dimmed with her frustration.
Caleb spoke to the demon. The Wyrm lifted its head as if listening. The constable continued to mutter, beckoning the Wyrm. The demon slithered toward Caleb.
Lindsay followed it, but her arms shook and an overwhelming exhaustion fell over her. Her light withdrew back into her body and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon it again. She realized this is what Lucian meant when he said the Katharoi get tired, and without her light, she was powerless against the demon.
“Lindsay! To me!” Lucian attempted to stand, and though his light still encompassed his body, it wasn’t as bright.
Backing away from the Wyrm, Lindsay dragged the heavy sword toward Lucian. He was stronger; he could keep her safe from that thing. Her heel slipped on his cane and she fell backwards, landing hard. Her teeth clicked together and she tasted blood. She squealed when Lucian grasped her shoulder.
He held his cane in his right hand. He took the sword from her, but he seemed disoriented with the same drunken motions he’d exhibited after Catarina’s attack. He gestured for Lindsay to get out of the way.
All she could see was the Wyrm, slithering toward Caleb. If the demon saw her on the floor, it might come back. Terror infused her limbs at the thought of that thing in her head, eating her brain. Lindsay used her palms and heels to scoot her body backward to the altar. She recalled the desire in the creature’s eyes. It wanted her body. What if it turned on her? Would it try to go through her eye? “Kill it, Lucian! Kill it! Kill it! Kill it!”
The storm lifted off another section of roof near the confessionals and the wind yowled through the church. Darkness coalesced around Caleb; the Wyrm reached the constable. Lucian stood. Even as Caleb picked the demon up and brought it toward his face, Lindsay knew Lucian was going to be too late.
†
Rachael felt Lucian slip away from her, heard him shout at the child, his words filtered into her brain with a clarity she had forgotten she possessed. She pulled her patch back over her empty socket and got to her knees. She groped through the shadows for her sword. Unable to get her sluggish limbs to obey her, Rachael cursed her clumsiness and prayed her soul-light into existence.
She froze in surprise. Her soul-light shined pure and clear for the first time in years. Her right hand felt odd and she pulled her glove off to find the deep scars erased from her flesh. Gingerly, she touched her face and found it likewise healed. Something bumped against Rachael’s foot and Lindsay screamed.
Rachael whirled and grabbed Lindsay before she could dart away like a frightened rabbit. Her hand closed on the child’s wrist and Lindsay cried out. Rachael wrapped her arms around the girl and drew her against the safety of the altar.
“Easy, easy, easy,” Rachael murmured.
“It looked at me,” Lindsay said. “It wants to get inside me.” The girl was pallid with fear.
Rachael squeezed Lindsay’s hand. “We’re not going to let it hurt you.” She spied her weapon next to the girl’s leg. “I promise. I’ve got to help Lucian.”
Lindsay nodded, and Rachael reached around her to snatch her sword. Holding to the edge of the altar, she pulled herself up and turned to find Lucian moving toward Caleb.
His sword blazed with light, but he was too late. Rachael saw the Wyrm’s tail flicker once before it disappeared into the gaping hole where Caleb’s nose had been. Caleb moaned and stumbled backward, throwing his shoulders left, then right. The constable’s yells went higher in pitch as the Wyrm burrowed into his brain. He fell backward onto a pew before he slid to the floor where he thrashed helplessly.
Lucian took another staggering step forward; Rachael got in front of him and put her hand against his chest. His heart pounded against her palm, and she felt his love wash over her again.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said and sheathed his weapon.
“I’ll take care of him while the Wyrm has him.”
“No!” Lucian grabbed her wrist. “You can’t kill him.”
“I’ll make it quick.”
“And where will the Wyrm go next once its new host is dead?”
Rachael glimpsed Lindsay’s face by the altar, the girl’s words still ringing in her head. Of course, the Wyrm would want a child; it would take the path of least resistance. If the demon left Caleb and reached Lindsay, she would succumb to the Wyrm within minutes.
Lucian released her arm, and Rachael immediately missed his warmth. “Lindsay,” she said, “come quick.”
The child scrambled to join them; she grabbed Lucian’s hand and he pulled her close. Lindsay was holding herself together, but just barely. Between Caleb’s cries and the Wyrm’s dark desire to own her body, she was terrified.
Rachael said, “Go with Lucian.”
Lindsay nodded, relief washing over her features.
Lucian paused. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Yes, you are.” She touched his cheek. His skin was cooling, but she still felt the fever of God’s Spirit clinging to him. The exorcism had taken more from him than he wanted to admit. “You’ll never make it on foot. Go saddle the horses. I’ll be right behind you.”
“You promise.”
“I promise.”
He patted Lindsay’s shoulder. “Go.”
Lindsay ran through the office door without looking back, and Lucian followed, glancing in Rachael’s direction only once before he left her. Relieved, she returned her attention to the constable.
“I’m sorry.” Caleb’s gasp was barely audible beneath the thunder. His body wrenched upward then slammed to the floor.
“For what, Caleb? What are you sorry for?” She advanced
a step, but she knew. She remembered now. Caleb seducing her, taking advantage of her loneliness, stroking flesh no man would touch. He’d used her body while her mind drifted into dreams, raping her more times than she could count. She felt dirty, violated. She wanted to drive her sword through his face, but she held her anger in check. “Tell me, Caleb.”
“I love you.” His voice broke and he gasped. “I never—” His nails scraped the wooden floor. “I never wanted to hurt you. Never. They said if I helped get rid of Lucian, you’d love me. Don’t you love me, Rae?”
Rachael wanted to smash her fist into the man’s hopeful expression. “No,” she said. “I do not.”
“You do! You love me! I’m strong enough for you.” The constable’s magic filtered beneath the Wyrm’s influence. She frowned. Caleb called on God, the very God he’d renounced. He muttered from where he lay on his back.
Rachael stepped backward and the floor creaked.
Caleb’s head turned and his eyes shot open. “Lu-Lucian? Lucian? Are you there? Help me, God, please.”
A chill ran through Rachael’s body as she realized the constable was repenting. Or it’s a trick. If Caleb asked, Rachael had no doubt Lucian would try to adjure the demon again. Lucian’s haggard face rose before her eye. Another exorcism tonight might very well kill him.
“I can’t control it.” Caleb’s whine grated on her nerves. “I thought it was easy. Rae? Is that you?” He gasped and dropped his arms to his chest. “Rae? Get Lucian. I’m begging you.”
Rachael kept her sword level and backed toward the office. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”
“No! Damn it. You get him. Right now!” Caleb wheezed and clawed his bloody face. “Now! It’s eating me! God, Rae! It’s eating me alive!”
Rachael stepped across the threshold.
Caleb sobbed. “I can’t make it stop.”
Rachael closed the door.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
the sacra rosa
The candles in the office guttered as Rachael ran into the bedroom. The packs were gone. She snatched her coat as she passed the stove. Caleb’s cries followed her through the kitchen and out the back door where she almost collided with Lucian and Lindsay.
Why weren’t they at the shed? The packs were in a heap by the door. When she moved to go around him, he blocked her path with his cane. He held Lindsay close and whispered, “Look.”
Somewhere in the darkness, the horses neighed and shuffled, but Rachael couldn’t see them through the storm hammering Ierusal. Wind gusts blew sheets of rain across the yard. The metallic smell of ozone singed the air.
Leaves rustled in an ominous undercurrent to the storm. A triple flash of lightning illuminated the yard. When the darkness descended again, the image of a lush tangle of branches and thorns was seared into her brain. White flowers with human features clearly discernable in the petals emerged from the leaves. The Sacra Rosa flowed into the yard like a wave and moved straight for the church.
The limbs of the plant ranged from thin tendrils no larger than a garden snake to boughs as thick as Lucian’s thigh. On the bigger branches, the thorns were as long as Rachael’s sword. The acid weight of fear hit her stomach.
The resonance of magic filtered beneath the storm. Her hands and arms tingled with the reverberations, but this spell wasn’t coming from the Wyrm. With another flash of lightning, Rachael saw the roses’ mouths move, and what she had taken for the hum of the wind turned into a chant. The timbre of the incantation felt both alien and familiar.
She scoured her brain to remember all she’d heard of the Rosa, but no one, not even John, had ever seen it move. She didn’t know if the bush was sentient or acting from instinct. The spikes protruding from the branches left her no doubt of their fate if they remained in the Rosa’s path. The Rosa’s thorns would rip them to shreds.
“We have to go back inside,” Lucian said as he lowered his cane.
Lindsay broke away from him. “No! We can’t go back in there!”
“Lindsay, stop!” He took a step, but she stumbled out of his reach, toward the edge of the porch.
Rachael eased around Lucian. She would only get one chance. She lunged forward; her fingertips slid across the wet fabric of the girl’s coat. She clenched her hand and snagged the strap of Lindsay’s gym bag. Closing her fingers around the thin band, she yanked and succeeded in pulling the girl into her arms. Lindsay wailed, and Lucian held his hand out for the child.
“Inside! Now!” Rachael gestured with her head, and Lucian obeyed her without question. Lindsay kicked backward and caught Rachael’s shin with her heel; sharp pain twisted up Rachael’s leg. She grasped Lindsay to half-carry, half-drag her back into the kitchen. The rancid odor of sour magic filled the air. Caleb’s screams had stopped.
Rachael kicked the door shut and wrapped the terrified girl in her arms to keep her from plunging back outside and into the Rosa. “Hush. Stop it. You’ve faced worse than this, Lindsay. Now stop.”
Lindsay made an animal noise in the back of her throat and her elbow shot backward toward Rachael’s head. Rachael ducked and held her tighter. She pressed her lips against Lindsay’s ear. “Calm down! You have to calm yourself, Lindsay. That’s what Peter would do.”
Lindsay froze at the mention of her brother’s name. She shivered in Rachael’s arms, but she appeared to be listening.
Rachael summoned her soul-light. “He kept his head and gave his life to save you. Think about Peter. What would Peter do?”
“Rachael,” Lucian said.
Rachael ignored him.
“It wants me,” Lindsay whispered. “And I can’t make my light come.”
“I know. I know.” She stroked the girl’s hair. “But you’re not alone like I was.” She passed her soul-light into Lindsay’s palm. “We won’t let it hurt you, Lindsay. You have to trust us. Trust Lucian. Can you be brave?” She didn’t relax her hold until Lindsay nodded. The girl was still frightened, but her terror no longer overwhelmed her.
The Rosa scratched against the side of the church. A branch screeched against a pane of glass, setting Rachael’s nerves on fire. The window splintered and cracked. An ominous creak drew their attention to the door bulging in its frame. Leaves, thorns, and flowers pressed against the windows. The blooms’ lips moved in the mournful chant that grew more intense with every passing second.
Rachael shoved Lindsay toward Lucian. “Go!”
Lucian grabbed the girl’s hand and went into the bedroom. The kitchen door burst from its hinges. In the bedroom, Rachael edged around him to lead the way. Lucian was in no condition for a fight. She wanted to be first inside the church.
The Rosa leaked around the office door, leaves pushing into the cracks, slithering past the hinges. A huge thorn burst through the center of the outside wall, splintering the wood. Rachael jerked the church door open and veered into the sanctuary with Lucian and Lindsay close behind.
The air crackled with static. Rachael heard Caleb’s voice, but his words were unintelligible. The wind howled and lifted more of the roof away. The Rosa oozed through the opening.
Lucian snatched Rachael’s arm and pulled her directly beneath the cross. With his back against the wall, he put his right arm around her, his cane gripped in his fist. His left arm encircled Lindsay, who shuddered and buried her face in his side. Rachael felt his heart pound against her back.
A shadow moved in front of the pews. It was Caleb, or what was left of him. Rachael put her hand on her sword, but Lucian lowered his cane to rest on top of her knuckles.
Lucian said, “Make no sign of aggression.”
A moan rippled through Caleb’s throat as thin rope-like striations swelled across his face and neck. Caleb’s eyes were bottomless black orbs with neither pupil nor iris, not even the whites could be seen. Blood gushed into his face when his scalp split open to reveal a curved horn growing from the top of his head. His body jerked; the Wyrm commanded his limbs. The demon clenched Caleb’s sword. The blade had turned black. The poss
ession was complete; this was the Wyrm manifest.
Rachael tried to swallow her horror. This is what she would have become if Lucian had abandoned her. Yet he didn’t leave her; he stayed and risked his and Lindsay’s lives to save her.
Lucian’s arm tightened around her waist. His pulse throbbed in time with hers just as it had when they had gone through the Hell Gate a lifetime ago. He had been afraid then as he was now, but in her lust for power, she had mistaken his fear for excitement. She placed her sweat-slick palm on his arm.
The voice that emerged from Caleb’s mouth was not human. The words were garbled, meaningless, until Rachael understood the demon wasn’t trying to speak in any of Woerld’s languages. The Wyrm sought the angelic language it remembered from its days in Heaven, the language it had lost when it was cast out.
The Rosa slowed its approach, creeping more cautiously as it surrounded the Wyrm. The leaves no longer roared but hissed beneath the mournful chant of the flowers. Stems from the Rosa flowed around their ankles. A tendril slithered over the toe of Rachael’s boot and she jerked her foot to the side. A thorn pricked her calf before the branch withdrew and sought a way around her.
The room brightened as four flowers, twice the size of the other roses, swayed upward on huge branches. These four were older than the rest, their petals tinged with yellow. As the elder roses came forward, the chant intensified. The tingling sensation of the Rosa’s magic filled Rachael’s chest and she felt cleansed by its song.
The storm resounded around them, the walls vibrating with each clap of thunder. The Wyrm backed away from the plant. Rachael flinched when a branch of the Rosa shot forward. The stem wrapped itself around the Wyrm’s distended neck, barbs puncturing Caleb’s flesh. The demon slashed wildly with its sword and sliced through the stem. Blood flowed from the severed branch. White petals fell from the three faces that had been attached to the stem.
The Wyrm spun around, his black gaze on Lindsay. Rachael saw the demon’s lust. A child of Lindsay’s capabilities would prove fertile ground for its malice. Behind her, Lucian stiffened as he realized the demon’s intent. He held Lindsay tight against him so she wouldn’t see.
Miserere: An Autumn Tale Page 22
