Devil Take Me

by Karilyn Bentley

  She smiles at me, her eyes crinkling. Her eyes look like mine, like T’s. Same shape. I can’t tell the color on account of her being see-through. A little hard to tell the coloring of ghosts.

  “What’s she saying?” I ask.

  “She’s still here?” Smythe says at the same time.

  I point to my great-grandmother. As if he can see her.

  “Huh.” Smythe nods, eyes squinting at the apparition.

  T clears his throat, glances at me. “She told me her story. Our history.”

  “And?” Me.

  “What was it?” Smythe.

  We’re going to win the award for simultaneous speaking.

  The ghost gives a little finger wave and vanishes.

  “Where’d she go?” I turn to T.

  “She’s gone?” Smythe looks between the both of us, his gaze landing on me before turning to my twin.

  Color returns to T’s face, sliding over the pale, returning his wide-eyed crazy-stare to his normal look. Not sure how he’s going to handle being a ghost-talker when he can’t even carry on a conversation with a dead relative without appearing like he’s going into shock.

  “I didn’t ask where she’s going or if she’s coming back.”

  “Why not?”

  T glares at me, the answer obvious in the press of his lips.

  “How the hell are you going to be a ghost-talker if you can’t talk to a ghost without freaking out?” It’s a valid question, one I’m really curious about, one he needs to know the answer to before he ventures into this new job arena.

  “I’ll deal with it. It was more what she said than the fact she’s a ghost.”

  “What was so shocking?” Smythe asks. “And how did she find you? Why now? Why hadn’t she tried to contact you before?”

  Leave it to my mentor to ask questions that trump mine in importance. Not like peppering T with questions is a contest.

  A fine wrinkle between T’s eyes appears only to disappear a second later. He shrugs. “She didn’t see the need to get in touch until Gin started wearing the bracelet. Ghosts don’t tell time like we do. She thought Gin just started wearing the justitia, like last week. So in her mind she was Johnny-on-the-spot to pop in and say hi. I was sitting here watching TV when she appeared.” A splash of red tints his cheeks. “I took down the ghost proofing around the house.”

  I raise a brow. “You cleaned up the salt and iron filings around the windows and doors?”

  Only in my house would that statement be said with a straight face.

  “Most of the door salt had already worn away. The lack of a barrier is how Blake managed to appear a couple of months ago.”

  After he died, Blake had appeared to warn me about Agramon, the fear demon, and its diabolic plans. Which I managed to thwart. Once I killed Agramon, Blake returned to heaven, or wherever ghosts go when they aren’t haunting humans. Bottom line, I haven’t seen him since.

  Which is just as well. He needs his happy ending and I need to get on with my life. A little hard to do if he continued to hang around.

  Smythe ignores the reference to Blake while pointing out the obvious. “You haven’t said what she wanted. Or her name.”

  T shakes off my palm and runs a hand across his super-short hair. “Her name is Lillian Feeley. She told an odd story about Eloise.”

  Smythe freezes for a second, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. If I hadn’t been looking at him, I wouldn’t have caught the expression, it cleared his face so fast.

  “What about Eloise?” His voice lowers, a hint of protectiveness in its depths.

  “It’s a strange story. You might want to sit?”

  I do as my twin asks, plopping beside him on the couch. Smythe walks around so he faces us, arms crossed, stance wide, in full friend-defense mode.

  T raises a brow at Smythe’s stance before speaking. “She said Eloise was around when she was alive and Lillian died over seventy years ago.”

  “Healers age slowly. No surprise she’s over seventy.” Smythe states the fact in a dry tone indicating no big deal.

  “Maybe not for you, but it surprised the shit out of me.” My twin glares.

  No wonder he was surprised at Eloise’s age. He discovered his crush is a cougar.

  “Go on.” I pat his arm in encouragement, wanting to hear more about my newfound ghostly relative. So much for previously convincing myself not to learn more about my ancestors. When faced with an actual relative, I suddenly want to know all about my ancestry.

  “As I was saying.” T cuts a glance to Smythe. “She knew Eloise. When Lillian got pregnant and the mage father died before they married, she was freaked out. Not her words, but being a single mother wasn’t the norm then. Since she was the sister of a Justitian and therefore next in line to wear the justitia, she had to follow the Agency’s policies. Per policy, Lillian was required to register the pregnancy with the Agency, but Eloise convinced her otherwise. Eloise claimed there were demons in the Agency who wanted to take over and eliminate the Justitians.”

  “Demons?” Smythe slams his hands on his waist, a bunch of not-buying-it written across his face. “That’s impossible. The Agency is warded against demon intrusion.”

  “Dude, I’m just telling you what she said.”

  Smythe walks around the coffee table and sits on the arm chair. “Go on.”

  After a slight head shake, T continues. “Eloise managed to convince Lillian the demon would kill her baby. So instead of registering her pregnancy, she took a vacation with Eloise, gave birth and gave the child, a girl, up for adoption. Several months later, Lillian was walking to the store when she was nailed by a car and killed.”

  “Why didn’t Eloise heal her?” Eloise always was there for me. If she went to all the trouble to convince Lillian to give my grandmother up for adoption, wouldn’t Eloise have been there for my great-grandmother?

  “I got the impression Eloise didn’t know about it until it was too late. She can’t be in all places at once.”

  “What happened to the child, our grandmother?”

  “Lillian said she watched her child, Donna, off and on from wherever ghosts stay. Donna never got along with her adoptive parents and left home as soon as she graduated from high school. She got knocked up and in her last month of pregnancy something went wrong and she died.”

  My eyes widen. “That’s awful!”

  “Yeah it is. Since Donna didn’t leave the name of the father, or any family, our mother went up for adoption and we know the rest of the story.”

  “Tell her thanks for solving Gin’s—and your—ancestry puzzle for me.”

  T nods at Smythe.

  Smythe drums his fingers against his leg, eyes narrowed in thought. “Eloise was behind all this? She’s known Gin’s history all along?”

  Red tinges T’s cheeks at Smythe’s questions. I’m sure he doesn’t want to admit his crush appears to have an agenda of her own. I’m there with him. Eloise has saved me from death several times, which makes her one of the good guys, or gals as the case may be.

  I don’t want to think of her as knowing things about me and T and failing to mention them to us. Important things, like who our ancestors were, what made my justitia important, and why she thought a demon lived at the Agency.

  I mean, I agree with her about the demon. Or demonic influence. Something was definitely wacky about my esteemed employer.

  “I’m sure she had her reasons for keeping things from us.” T’s eyes narrow.

  “Think you can find them out?” Smythe asks.

  T crosses his arms. “Whatcha mean?”

  “He means,” I give T’s arm another pat, trying to calm his defensiveness, “if you could ask her what she knows. She seems to like you and we know how you feel about her. We’ll never know her reasons unless you ask.”

  T’s glare lessens after a moment. “Okay. And what if you don’t like what she says?”

  “We might not like it, but at least we’ll know. I’d rather know wh
at happened in our family and why I can wear this bracelet”—I hold up my wrist, giving it a shake—“than never know the reasons. Wouldn’t you?”

  His lips press together as his jaw tenses. White lines form around his mouth then dissipate as his body relaxes. He nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Under the guise of wanting to learn more about becoming a ghost-talker, T asks Eloise to come over right then. A bit of me feels duplicitous, as if I’m setting her up for a fall. Which I’m not. We’re setting her up so we can learn the truth.

  Eloise’s brow furrows when she portals into my living room. Being blind doesn’t mean she can’t sense three people staring at her. And she’s admitted to me she can see out of the eyes of people she is emotionally close to. Judging by her reaction, all of us must be in the close-friend category.

  Excitement morphs to guilt. She’s my friend. Perhaps this was a bad idea.

  But before I can voice my hesitation, T speaks.

  “Have a seat.” T grabs her hand, leading her to the couch. Eloise turns her head toward Smythe and me before sitting next to my twin. “I asked you here about a ghost I talked to today.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  Good thing she can’t see the blush stealing across T’s cheeks. He clears his throat.

  “The ghost I saw was my great-grandmother, Lillian Feeley. She said she knew you.”

  Eloise stills. “I see. What did she tell you?”

  “You claimed the Agency had been infiltrated by demons and convinced her to give her child up for adoption.”

  Eloise sucks in her bottom lip, her gaze fixed halfway between T beside her and Smythe in the arm chair. After a long moment, she sighs. “Yes. I am guilty as charged. Is that what you wanted to know?”

  “We’d like to know why,” Smythe says. “You never mentioned any of this to me, even though you knew I was looking for Gin’s ancestral history.”

  “I like you Aidan, but I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t tell others. I need this to remain quiet.”

  “Why? Why would you hide Lillian, a potential Justitian who is the last of her line? Especially knowing we need all the help we can get.”

  Another long pause coupled with a furrowed brow and sucked in lips. She sighs. “If I tell you, will you swear to silence? It cannot leave this room.”

  What happens in Gin’s house, stays in Gin’s house.

  We all swear to silence. Eloise nods. I lean forward. Maybe now I’ll learn the answers to all my nagging questions.

  “All right, then. I,” she swallows, as if the words are distasteful, “I discovered a demonic presence in the Agency. It changes forms so I can feel it, but not identify it. It has been there for years, since shortly before the last Justitian, Lillian’s sister, wore your bracelet, Gin. Anyway, I overheard the demon talking about its plans. About how it would kill your lineage and take the justitia for itself.”

  “How?” I ask. “Only a Justitian of its lineage can wear this bracelet. A demon wouldn’t be able to wield it.”

  As soon as I spoke the words, I realized it wasn’t entirely true. The bracelets were forged by the demons. Perhaps the demons figured out a way to take their bracelets back.

  Eloise confirms my thoughts. “Demons forged the bracelets. The original wearers, before they were called Justitians, discovered a spell to release them from their bondage. A spell that reversed the demons’ control over them and allowed them to seek revenge upon those who enslaved them.”

  “What role did the Agency play?” The shocked expression on Smythe’s face stands in opposition to his calm tone.

  A half-grin turns her lips. “A group of mages learned of the females’ plight and swore to help them defeat the demons. Millennia later, we have the Agency and Justitians. And the reason why you cannot create more bracelets. You never knew the original spell. No one did. Except for the demons.”

  “How do you know all this?” Especially since the Agency lost this history.

  She smiles at my question, a grin telling me the secret is for her and her alone. Ignoring my question, she continues with the original story of my family history, the smile fading from her lips. “Unfortunately, my plan to save your lineage backfired. Your grandmother was adopted and I thought I had managed to prevent the line from dying. Then Lillian was killed—”

  “She said it was an accident.” T’s brows furrow in confusion.

  “It was made to look like one. But the Agency ordered it.”

  “Why?” The glare on Smythe’s face could melt ice. “The Agency needs Justitians.”

  “Gin’s bracelet controls the others. If the demon within the Agency can obtain her bracelet, then it will control the other Justitians.”

  What the hell? She can’t be serious. A quick glance at Smythe shows he mirrors my surprise. “You mean I can control my fellow Justitians?

  She shakes her head. “Not to my knowledge. Only the demons can use the justitias for that purpose since they are the creators.”

  Always nice to know I won’t be tempted to be the “Head Bitch-In-Charge.”

  “Do you want to know this story, or do you want to continue to interrupt?” Her glare bounces between Smythe and me.

  “Sorry.” I’m not and neither is Smythe and she probably knows it, but she nods her head as if placated.

  “As I was saying, the Agency put a hit on Lillian at the same time they sent her sister to kill Hitler. The sisters died within days of each other. I could not save either of them. I learned of their deaths too late. But I was comforted that Lillian’s child was safe and the justitia—your justitia, Gin—was secured in the magical vault. I thought I could keep track of Donna and when she was grown, train her, and we could defeat the demon.”

  She lowers her eyes, her voice quieting. “But again, I was wrong. She left home and I lost track of her. I discovered she died so I thought all was lost. Then you appeared wearing the justitia. And I knew things would be all right.”

  “And you didn’t think I should know this?” The low tone of Smythe’s voice indicates his displeasure.

  He’s not the only one. I wish Eloise would have mentioned my maternal history earlier.

  “As I said, I couldn’t risk you telling anyone else. I’m sorry if this offends.” She pauses. “Did Lillian say anything about Donna having a child? I never found evidence of a child, and yet, Gin is able to wear the justitia.”

  T nods. “Yeah, she did. Donna gave birth to our mom but died due to pregnancy complications.”

  A pained look crosses Eloise’s face. “How sad. I wish I had known. Perhaps I could have helped her. And your mother?”

  “She lived until I was in college.” The memory of coming home to find Mom dead on the couch, having drunk herself into oblivion one last time, never ceases to bring a lump to my throat.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I nod while changing the topic to something on a happier note. Like one of my many unanswered questions. “Do you know what happened to my justitia? Like, how it disappeared from a magically secure vault?”

  Eloise turns to me, a half-grin back on her lips. “It didn’t disappear. I helped steal it.”

  Smythe’s eyes pop wide. “You stole it? Why the hell would you help steal it?”

  “Like I said, a demonic influence had woven through the Agency. Others were being turned to the dark side.” One side of her lip twitches as she says, “dark side.” “I knew what the demon wanted. I knew it wanted your justitia. And what better way to thwart a demon than to hide what it wants? Other mages knew what was happening and helped me out. I stole it, gave it to them and they hid it, keeping it safe.”

  “They died, you know.” I glare at her, remembering Will’s grief through our empathic connection, his fright as a minion murdered his mother.

  Eloise nods as if their deaths were inconsequential. “They knew death was a possibility if they were discovered. They accepted this outcome to keep your bracelet safe. They died uns
ung heroes in order for you to wear the justitia. In order for you to fight and kill the Agency demon.”

  “You mean it’s up to me to stop this demon you’ve been unable to stop for over seventy years?” What the hell? Was she smoking dope or something? How could I kill a demon this strong when I couldn’t even win my fight with Rahab? When I almost gave in to Perdix?

  “Don’t sound so incredulous, Gin. You will fight and you will win.”

  At least someone thinks I can do this. I’m not so sure.

  “I still can’t believe you didn’t trust me enough to tell me this.” Smythe crosses his arms.

  “I see now it was a mistake. I trust you Aidan. I wouldn’t have told you this otherwise.”

  Smythe narrows his eyes. “Who’s the demon? Who has it influenced at the Agency?”

  His unspoken question floats on the air, unnoticed by T and Eloise. But I see it in the lines of his face, in the tightness of his lips, the tense of his jaw. Was his father involved?

  “I don’t know. I’m blind.” One side of her lips kicks up. “Seriously, though. I can’t tell. I know it’s there. I can feel a demonic presence at the Agency. But I can’t narrow down who it comes from. One day I’ll feel a presence on a person, but the next I won’t. I don’t understand how it can hide so well. I should know who it is but every time I think on it, I get a headache and my mind skitters to another topic.”

  “Why didn’t you do anything about this earlier?”

  “Why do you think I hid Gin and T’s grandmother? I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

  “And there wasn’t anyone you could trust?”

  Her grin turns brittle. “Trust does not come easily for me. At the time, not many trusted me. Trust is earned and I had not earned it with the ones who counted. By the time I earned trust, the leadership changed and some of them seemed influenced by the demon so I could no longer trust them. At the time your justitia was stolen, others saw what I did. Those were the mages who helped me steal it.”