by Sara DeHaven
“I was nearby. I felt the echo of that event strongly. The doorway was nearly open as many demons had already been called through. And I was looking for Daniel. We are often drawn to those we’ve possessed before, if they survive the possession.”
“Why did it kill him?” Bree asked in a small voice. “It doesn’t seem to kill anyone when I order demons out while you possess me.”
“In those cases, our power is combined. Either we are both ordering the demons out, or I myself am ordering them out. It may be a different energy than when you do it on your own.”
“If what you’re saying is true, then any Demon Master power I have is lethal.” Bree felt cold inside saying the words.
“I don’t know that that is true, my host,” Gelsenim replied. He put a hand on her ankle again, but this time, Bree was too distracted to stop him. “All demons but the weakest are capable of killing a host on exiting. Sometimes we kill a host by choice, sometimes it just happens. Perhaps you were not the cause.”
Bree wanted to believe that, with all her heart. But it would be dangerous to believe it just because it was convenient. “Daniel thinks the reason I’m not succeeding in casting out demons with Demon Master talent is because I’m afraid of killing someone. He says he never has, though he tries not to use his Demon Master talent, so there’s not a big track record there. In your experience, how often does it happen with other Demon Masters?”
Gelsenim shrugged. “That is hard for me to say. Even now, my memories are hard to access with any reliability. I believe, though, that it is rare. And as I said, it may even then be the demon’s choice.”
“So if I’m in control enough, either because you’re with me, or I learn to do it alone, I should be able to forbid a demon from killing its host on exiting.” Bree’s expression grew sharp as she considered it.
“I should think so,” Gelsenim responded, patting her ankle soothingly.
Bree rubbed her knuckles to her lips, thinking hard. “You know, everywhere I turn, I keep running into the same damned lesson. I can’t avoid this. The safest course is to keep moving forward, to get better at using my talents. Probably even to keep experimenting with letting you possess me as well. I’m a danger to others if I can’t control my power. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that there’s danger in getting good at using it. Just because I don’t seem to be getting demon burned yet, it doesn’t mean I won’t. Most Demon Masters don't show demon burn for a few years at soonest.”
“My host, I honestly do not think you will,” Gelsenim said with unusual firmness. “We are truly compatible. I am not certain the same would be true if you allowed another to possess you.”
“Well, it’s not exactly in your interest for me to check that out, is it? Of course you’d say that,” Bree replied, giving him a narrow look.
Gelsenim smiled. “Too true. You see, I am transparent to you. You hardly need fear me.”
“Yeah, right,” she replied skeptically.
“I have said I do not wish to cause you pain,” the demon said gently.
Bree regarded him seriously, brows drawn down in thought. “I want to believe you,” she admitted. “I want to believe that you’ve changed from being freed of the hunger. But even if you have, I just don’t know that I’ll ever be able to allow the amount of possession time you would want.”
As the words left her lips, Bree realized she’d been far too honest. There was something in the intimacy of the setting, of their conversation, that had led her to be so. She would have done better to string him along with promises. She found herself thinking Daniel wouldn’t have made such a mistake, but she squashed that thought. Daniel wasn’t here. She had to start learning to rely on herself.
“You are not Seldenai,” the Gelsenim replied, but while he usually sounded sad when he spoke of his former hosts, this time he sounded speculative. “You are not Seldenai,” he repeated more strongly. “With the Seldenai, we did not often bother to take physical form, though I seem to recall we could, I think in service of some art form. With you, it seems to give you comfort to perceive me as outside of you. Perhaps then you do not feel so… violated. And besides, this form intrigues me. Why do you suppose I am drawn to make for you a male form? I am feeling from inside you how a human form should feel and be, so why am I not female?”
The question startled Bree. She’d never given it any thought. “Aren’t demons always male?” she asked stupidly, because she already knew the answer.
“Of course not, my host. Though almost always we appear so to you. I am not certain if we have gender the same way you do. But I believe some demons are drawn to female form. I have made both. But with you, it is clear to me I must be male. Why is this? Is it what you desire?”
Bree was truly stopped in her tracks by that one. Hadn’t she and Daniel speculated that Gelsenim showed some tendency to want to please? Why might she want him in male form? The answer, or at least an answer, came to her. “Males are seen as stronger in my culture. As protectors. Maybe I want you to be strong. I want to feel protected. But the irony here is that what I most want protection from is demons.”
“And as I have just reassured you, that is something I can protect you from in almost every case. The benefit of our joining goes both ways, Bree.”
The demon so seldom used her name that it seemed strange to hear him say it. She regarded Gelsenim quietly, openly. He looked back at her patiently. She couldn’t help but ask herself whether she might be able to tolerate his presence if he could stay this coherent, and dampen his demonic energy signature this much. He didn’t feel evil to her right now.
It was a hard thing for Bree to admit. She’d hated and feared demons nearly all of her life, as her Demonsense had come upon her so young. But working with Daniel on demonic research had made her more openminded on the subject, made her admit there was a great deal she didn’t know, and that was worth knowing. In the end, she would find out only through experience if Gelsenim could be rehabilitated, could truly leave behind his impulses to do wrong.
“Tell you what, Gelsenim,” she finally offered after some thought. “You’re building some trust with me by leaving when I ask. In return, I can commit to calling you more frequently. But I want you to keep in mind that I’m on the lookout for any bad behavior from you. I need to trust that you won’t do, you know, demonic things when we’re joined. And keep in mind, worst case scenario, I can always have Daniel order you out.”
“If he survives,” Gelsenim murmured.
Bree shivered. Now it was Gelsenim who was being more honest than perhaps he should be. Well, she knew the proper come back to that. “You’d better hope he does, Gelsenim, because if he doesn’t, you can bet your sweet demonic ass that I’m going to think twice before calling you,” Bree returned militantly. “So you’d better keep putting your mind to how to heal the divided thing. Now, be gone. I will call on you again in the next couple of days.”
Gelsenim’s body seemed to tense up in response to her command. It was as if he had to apply his will to obeying. “Again, as you wish, my host,” he replied softly. His form wavered, then dispersed, and Bree felt the warmth of the possession leave her body shortly after. The doorway between the worlds opened, and he was gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bree managed to make it to Wednesday without anything else bad happening. She went to work three days in a row, and could almost have imagined life was returning to normal if it weren’t for what she was hearing on the news. The rash of rioting and looting now affected five different U.S. cities to the extent that curfews were in force and people were being arrested and detained without the usual due process. And the problems seemed to be spreading to smaller communities as well. Everywhere, it seemed young adults were the flash point, the starting place for the unrest, although certainly older people became involved as well. Bree wasn’t called in to help on anything until Wednesday night. She’d had dinner and had indulged herself by getting early into her pajamas when she got a call from Javier
Ortiz at around seven thirty.
“Bree, Javier,” he said shortly. “We’re calling in all available powered. There’s another problem developing downtown. Some kind of political protest started at Westlake Center, a bunch of people out with signs protesting the curfew and the arrests. It’s just the sort of thing the Keltoi will run with, and it’s all too likely to get ugly. My people on the scene have already identified a number of possessed. Can you get hold of Kevin and Daniel and meet a couple of blocks down, at Second and Pike?”
“I don’t know about Daniel, I think he’s out of town,” she lied, “but I’ll try Kevin. I’ll come either way. Maybe you could pair me with a Warder or something if Kevin can’t make it.”
“Fine, thanks. Every person helps,” Javier said in what sounded to her like a rote reply he’d had to repeat far too many times. She felt a rush of empathy for him. He wasn’t her favorite person, but he was certainly working his ass off to do what he could under great pressure and with not nearly enough trained people. She wanted to tell him she appreciated what he was doing, but she was unable to find the words before he signed off, clearly in a rush to make his next call.
She was able to reach Kevin immediately, and he agreed to come by her place. Bree brewed up some coffee and put it in a couple of travel mugs for them. It was likely to be a late night, and she for one was tired already. She got into some warm clothes, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and set her brown leather jacket on the couch, ready to go. Once Kevin arrived, they decided to take her smaller vehicle as parking downtown was likely to be a major hassle and they might need to squeeze into a small space. They strategized during the drive, but didn’t truly come up with anything new beyond Kevin’s original idea of well warded, quick, targeted strikes focused on powered or possessed who were causing trouble.
“I’m hoping you don’t have to resort to calling Gelsenim. The place will be crawling with Keepers,” he told Bree as she pulled into an overpriced parking garage. She’d finally overcome her skinflint reluctance to pay for parking after a fruitless search for on street parking on the packed streets.
“I wish it were safe to do it,” she admitted. “I have to say, he’s been a tremendous help lately. I can’t help but think that in a situation like this, where everyone with a lick of Demonsense will be overwhelmed, it’s likely to be hard to spot any particular person as possessed.”
“Yet you’re able to do it quite well,” Kevin reminded her as he settled his travel mug back in the car’s cup holder.
“Well, I’m pretty high power for Demonsense. I’m sure most of the powered there won’t be.”
“Don’t rationalize,” Kevin admonished. “You can be sure some Keeper high in Demonsense will be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think you’ve just gotten lucky so far.”
“Damn it, I suppose you’re right,” Bree groused. “I really will try to avoid it, I promise.” They quickly set personal wards before getting out of the car. Bree had taken to keeping a marker in her car to aid in that purpose. Then they got out, locked up, and walked briskly through the gloomy parking garage, out the exit, and towards the designated meeting spot. Bree felt a tired, jangling anxiety building as they walked. The feeling was like dusty moths fluttering around in her chest and up her spine. She knew it was going to be hard to keep her promise to Kevin to avoid calling Gelsenim. She’d been badly frightened at times during the two riots she’d already been involved with, and some part of her back brain was telling her she was a complete idiot for moving toward trouble. The streets were alive with milling people, and they could hear the crowd noise of the gathering as they got closer. There was the overall buzz of talking and shouting, punctuated by what sounded like someone speaking through a bullhorn, perhaps the cops, or maybe one of the protestors. They were in the center of the downtown retail core, home of the major department stores and several malls. Tall buildings rose all around them, and some housed a variety of smaller business on their bottom floors. They passed a small, independent bookstore, a store devoted entirely to hats, and in import store with replicas of King Tut’s tomb and belly dance outfits in the window.
Westlake Center, their eventual destination, was one of the malls, and included an open area in front and a plaza with a fountain across the street. It was the spot the big Christmas tree was set up during the holidays, and a common gathering place for the political protests that were a feature of Seattle life. They were usually peaceful and polite, in typical Northwest fashion, though there had been trouble some years ago, during the World Trade Organization protests, which had ended with some looting and a number of arrests.
Javier was not at the meeting place, but Bree immediately recognized a Keeper she knew only as Chen, a tall, Chinese-American woman with short bobbed hair she’d encountered during her adventures with Daniel last fall. She was instructing what appeared to be a non-Keeper group of powered. Bree recognized a few as those she’d met in school or at powered social gatherings, though none were what she would have considered close friends. There were some new faces as well.
Interestingly, Chen was saying roughly what she and Kevin had determined on as good tactics. “All you’re here to do is interrupt and interfere with anyone possessed or powered that’s involved in any violence. Don’t feel like you have to physically stop someone who’s out of your league, and don’t try to do any serious battle. We’re just looking to you for some harm reduction. We’re mostly trying to prevent more fatalities. So stick to the edges of the crowd, keep alert, do what you can, and get out quick. Now, everyone’s either a Warder or is paired with a Warder, right?” Many heads nodded and a few murmured an affirmative. Chen caught Bree’s eye and nodded slightly in acknowledgement, then she concluded with, “All right people, do some good, but don’t get hurt! If you hear gunfire, get out and away as quickly as possible.” Chen turned and spoke into the ear of a man Bree recognized as another Keeper, a shorter Asian man whose name she couldn’t remember.
“Okay, I guess this is it. Let’s go,” Bree told Kevin. As they approached Westlake Center, they could see some people clutching signs hurrying away, frightened looks on their faces.
“Those are the smart ones,” Kevin said, voice tight with repressed tension. Bree’s nerves ratcheted up another notch. It all sounded so logical. Just get in, interrupt the violence, and get out. But she knew now, from experience, that it probably wouldn’t be that easy. She linked arms with Kevin, seeking some sense of courage, and the look he gave her when she did told her he was rather hoping to get courage from her as well. There were already a lot of police in riot gear, transparent plastic shields of some kind held in front of them, helmets on their heads. The ones Bree saw looked tense. There were a lot of people with signs, declaring things like, “Due process is an American right!” “No curfew!” and “We are not a Fascist State!” There were also some counter protesters, their signs more along the lines of “Law and Order now!” and “We support our police officers!” It was clearly not a purely peaceful protest at this point, but neither did things look or feel fully out of control to Bree. She could see that some people were in each other’s faces, shouting and angry, and there was some chanting of political slogans, but so far, no overt violence that she could see.
But the closer she got, the more her Demonsense throbbed through her. There were possessed here, definitely a lot of possessed. She tried to pinpoint their location, and she was able to identify a few. She pointed them out to Kevin as they slowly and cautiously made their way around the outer edges of the crowd.
Bree should have been reassured by the lack of overt violence so far, but she wasn’t. The crowd felt to her like a big, grumbling, sleepy bear, ready to leap into snarling action if disturbed. With so many possessed, things wouldn’t stay calm for long. She found that she longed for Daniel. She wanted his confidence, his battle readiness beside her. And just as much, she wished she had Gelsenim on board, as much as it chagrined her to admit it. She’d never imagined she’d think such
a thought in her life, that she actually wanted a demon possession.
She and Kevin slowly made a complete circuit of the outside edges of the crowd, continuing to take note of those Bree thought were possessed, particularly those she read as powered. “There are probably more powered that I’m not able to sense,” Bree told Kevin as the passed their starting point at the west side of the plaza and continued on around again. “My Demonsense has more range than my Reader sense.” She had to lean into him and talk into his ear as the crowd noises were getting louder. Kevin only nodded in reply. She could feel a sparkling sense of barely leased Warder power all around him. He was poised to throw up a ward at a moment’s notice.
Bree wished that whatever bad thing was going to happen would get started already. Kevin was going to wear himself out holding himself ready like that, and her fear was growing with their watchful inaction. She was beginning to regret the coffee she’d downed. The caffeine buzz just seemed to be adding to an overall sense of nervousness. If this continued on much longer, she knew her courage would desert her completely.
Quite suddenly, a monster stab of adrenaline went straight into her heart, lighting up her body with an electric fight or flight response, and it took a few moments for her brain to catch up with the cause. There, ahead and to her right, she saw the crisp profile of a tall woman, long, curly dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Was it? Could it be? “Kevin,” she hissed, “over there, to the right. Is that Franchesca Gambrini?”
Kevin’s head swiveled as he tried to see where Bree was pointing. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of her. “Holy shit, that’s her,” he confirmed. Kevin had known Franchesca as long as he’d known Daniel. Back when they were all in school together, they had, in a sense, been rivals for Daniel’s affection. Kevin had had a world-class crush on Daniel, and Franchesca was Daniel’s girlfriend. She’d also alienated Kevin by torturing Daniel with her need to constantly prove to herself that Daniel loved her. She would flirt with others to get a rise out of Daniel, would pick fights in order get to the passionate reconciliation. She’d left Daniel several times before the final break up, when she’d moved away from Massachusetts to join the New York Keltoi clan her mother had been a part of. Bree had heard the whole story, from both Kevin and Daniel, and had witnessed for herself the hostile dynamic between Franchesca and Kevin, not to mention the more twisted one between Franchesca and Daniel, last fall.
