I found Harry in the toolshed behind the church, sharpening the ancient blade from a lawnmower.
“You know, Sears sells those brand new for about twenty bucks.”
He looked up, eyebrows raised as if startled, but frowned as soon as he noticed it was me.
“Ah hell. What happened now?”
“Nothing,” I said, holding out my hands, mostly because he was still holding the blade, but he’d shifted it to more of a weapon-like grasp. “I just had a question, that’s all.”
“Uh huh,” he snorted, but at least he set the blade down on the workbench. “And you asking me a question means something is most probably wrong.”
I ignored the barb and the grain of truth behind it.
“I’m just wondering if it’s possible to do an exorcism on an incubus.”
He stared at me for a moment. If it was possible, his frown became even… frownier.
“You’re getting visits?”
I nodded
“Of a sexual nature?”
I was so used to Desmond’s prudishness that I was taken aback by the blunt nature of the question.
“Yes and no. He’s not able to do anything, but…” I trailed off, surprised that I was the one being prudish.
“I thought your mother said she took care of that nonsense.”
My what?
“She didn’t take care of anything,” I said, bristling. “I was the one who had… That’s not important.” I caught myself. I really didn’t need to spill my sex life or lack thereof to Harry, but I made a mental note to talk to mom. If she’s claiming that she had a hand in my breaking the curse, I really wanted to know what was up. “I’m pretty sure I’m cursed, Harry, but not like that. I am getting… unwanted visits from the incubus that was supposed to impregnate me and I was wondering if there was a way to get him out of my head… permanently out, that is.”
I explained the various methods I’d tried, including the turbo-boosted sleeping draught that barely lasted a full forty-eight hours.
“I’m sorry, kid,” he said at last. “Morphael Discordant can’t be exorcized because they never enter our realm.”
“Well, they have to, don’t they” I protested. “In order to impregnate women? That’s a physical process.”
“Nope. I can’t rightly explain the science behind it because there ain’t any, but it seems all they have to do is plant the idea of pregnancy into the mind of a virgin and the deed is done. ‘Course, it’s clear where they got the idea,” he added, shifting his gaze over to the church and the stained glass window depicting Mary’s ascension. I let it go. I didn’t have time to start a religious debate about the fact that the origin of the virgin birth mythos was far older than Christianity.
“I was hoping you might have something that could draw him over. Like maybe some relic associated with the Virgin Mother.”
“That’s not a bad theory,” he said with an appreciative nod. “I can understand why you would have thought to ask, but Donna…” I was a bit shocked to see something that could pass for concern in his usually stern expression. “I’m speculating here, but I would hazard a guess that getting that portal under the mill sealed up good might be the only thing what could put an end to your visitors.”
“If only it were that easy,” I said with a sigh and explained how Clyde didn’t seem to care about the portal.
“Well,” he said, puffing out his cheeks and exhaling deeply. “That may be a blessing. I got a feeling there ain’t gonna be much we can do about that anyway.”
“A feeling?” I asked, temporarily distracted from my own issues. “As in…”
“As in just an educated guess,” he said with a wary look. “I already told your mother I don’t put any stock in that psychic mumbo jumbo. I just happen to think that realistically, even if all of us work together, we ain’t got enough power to stop the inevitable.”
“Wow, way to be a fatalist.” I scoffed. Harry had always been pessimistic, so this should have come as no surprise.
“I ain’t said we’ll fall to Chaos,” he corrected sharply. “I just happen to think we’d all do better to prepare for the impending battle rather than waste our energies on a lost cause like keeping the portal closed.”
“Yeah, I’d have to agree with that,” I said, knowing that he was talking about Desmond. Of course, he probably didn’t know that the real reason Desmond spent so much time fussing with the mill was to avoid Seth. “So, other than simply closing the portal or sending all the Discordant packing, can you think of anything I might do to keep this guy away?”
“Sorry kiddo,” he said with what looked like genuine regret. “You know as well as I do that if the Catholic Church had a way of dealing with morphaels, you probably wouldn’t even be here right now.”
“Well crap.” He had a point. The vast majority of Nyx in the western world were the children of nuns.
“Of course, he might just have genuine feelings for you.”
“W-what?” I tried to ignore the little flutter my heart gave and kept my expression neutral, but Harry still frowned at me. “Is that normal?”
“It ain’t unheard of,” he grunted and moved past me, back out into the mid-day sun. “For your sake, I hope that ain’t the case. Ain’t nothing good can come out of ill-fated love except yet another tragic tale for the history books and kiddo, you just don’t seem like the Romeo and Juliet type to me.”
“No, you can say that again,” I said with a smirk, but instead of worrying me, I was actually relieved to hear that a relationship was possible. I would deal with the ill-fated part later.
Harry didn’t seem to be paying any attention to me. Instead, he was looking out past the car park and over the whole of Blackbird. I had to admit, the view from up here was pretty.
“Ain’t there some council meeting today to vote on the fracking issue?”
“Um… I think so,” I said, weirded out once again by Harry’s abrupt change of subject. “Betty was going to a protest rally at the courthouse, so that makes sense.”
“I better get down there then,” he said, surprising me once again as he locked up the toolshed.
“To the rally?”
“To the council meeting,” he corrected. “I know you got your own problems right now, but you and I both know the war is comin’. If the measure passes allowing the big rigs to come further into the city, we ain’t gonna have time to prepare.”
“But I thought you said it was inevitable?” I asked, confused. Harry was definitely not the hippie activist type.
“Inevitable don’t have to mean tomorrow,” he muttered. “Don’t know about you, girly, but I ain’t ready to take on the devil just yet.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I said, utterly confused and added with a weak smile, “Thanks anyway,” before heading back to my car.
I had half a mind to go back to the mill and demand answers from my father, but I didn’t want to risk running into Desmond. Also, if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t want to get Clyde into any more trouble than he was likely already in for coming to see me. Instead, I headed for home, intent on doing some mindless work on the Beast’s engine to decompress before work, but halfway there, I got a different idea. I made a sharp left turn and headed for mom’s house.
If anyone was going to have a way to make sense of all of this, it was mom. Besides, she could question my father without raising suspicion. At least, I hoped she could. But when I arrived, I heard a deep voice and realized she wasn’t alone. I should have known Desmond would be here. He was fond of mom and often spent time with her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with him, so I turned, intending to leave and come back another day, but as I did, I heard mom’s voice.
“I’m afraid that the whole situation is a little more complicated than you, Seth, and even Donna have been led to believe.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I intended to find out. Silently, I said a shielding spell, crept up to the closed
kitchen door, and put my ear to the thin panel of wood.
Chapter 7
Skeletons in the Closet
Taffy Reese is dead.
Really, the old bird was eighty-seven, so it should not have come as a shock to anyone, but the empty space she left, not just in my life, was hard to ignore. For the briefest moment, I was reminded that I too have more days behind me than ahead, but I shook the feeling quickly. There was no sense in dwelling on what I had no control over. On one hand, knowing when I would die was freeing. I never had to worry that I would be leaving Donna in the lurch. But on the other, it was always there and looming closer every day. Dear me, I’ve gone morbid in my old age.
We’d been best friends since childhood, Taffy and I. Right up until the moment she stole the love of my life away and had the audacity to ask me to be the maid of honor at their wedding. Oh, she was lucky that I am merely a psychic and did not have the power to hex her, though in hindsight, she did me a favor by taking that lout off my hands. And of course, I never asked her to follow me to Blackbird, so she had only herself to blame when she found herself as trapped as the rest of us.
But my feelings and our spotted history, this was nothing. The empty void Taffy’s passing left in my own heart paled in comparison to the void left upon Blackbird. I was never one to put much stock in the numbers game. That is, until I found myself in Blackbird. Even I couldn’t deny that the power of seven mystics had been impressive, even if we did seem incapable of working together at times. Still, with the fissure opening directly under the old mill, Taffy’s death and the imbalance it created did not bode well.
As it stood, Blackbird had always had seven mystics and I suspected that soon enough, our population would likely grow by one. However, whether or not that would happen in time to repair the damage remained to be seen. It was at times like this that I wished a psychic’s abilities were closer to what the charlatans of late night television pretended to have. My divining glass was giving me nothing on the matter.
I’d been so wrapped up in trying to glean even a glimmer of guidance that I hadn’t heard the knocking on my front door until it became a frantic pounding accompanied by Desmond’s shouting. I hurried to the parlor and threw open the door.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, come in,” I said, hushing the giant with a stern glance. “You worry far too much.”
“So lovely to see you too, Myrna,” he said in a flat, dry voice, but his eyes were smiling as he ducked to get through the doorway. Though when he saw the divining glass on the kitchen table his expression darkened. “I’m guessing this is the reason you didn’t answer the door right away?”
“I’m afraid so,” I said, reaching automatically for the pitcher of tea on the counter. “There’s been a disruption in Blackbird’s balance. Taffy Reese has passed away and I’m afraid I’ve not felt the heralding of her replacement.”
“Who…” he began, but stopped and pursed his lips. “She was the seventh mystic, wasn’t she? Seth mentioned that she was quite reclusive.”
“That she was,” I said with a sigh. “A spirit walker. Though I doubt the old drunken bat did much walking, spiritual or otherwise, for the last several years,” I added in a mutter that did nothing to disguise my frustration.
“Are you certain…”
Desmond took a deep breath and pursed his lips, clearly looking for a tactful way to ask what I was already expecting.
“She decided to spend her last moments in my head. I wish I could say it was a tender goodbye and that she gained clarity and insight as to why the way she lived her life was wrong, but I’m afraid that didn’t happen. All she wanted was for me to discover her body before her cats got hungry. I suppose I should be getting over there soon. For the cats’ sakes, at least.”
“As I understand it, she had been your best friend?”
His tone was understandably confused. Admittedly, that was due to my own mixed signals as much as Desmond’s own linear way of thinking.
“She was,” I said with a tight smile. “I loved her dearly, but I didn’t particularly like her.” Noting that Desmond’s confusion remained, I added, “I believe the term the girls use today is frenemies.”
“I’m afraid that too is a concept I do not understand, but that is neither here nor there. What do you mean when you speak of her replacement?”
“The power of numerology is strong here,” I explained. “According to Seth, there have always been seven mystics in Blackbird. At least, since he arrived after World War II, but I suspect that might have been the case going back much further. As you know, I was on my way from Chicago to Las Vegas when my road trip came to a premature end.”
“Yes, ah… You have already…”
I held back a chuckle at Desmond’s discomfort, which was both baffling and refreshing. The day I told him that I’d been an exotic dancer in my youth was one I may never forget. I understood that he still maintained some old fashioned sensibilities, but to think that any man could spend nearly three hundred years walking this earth and still blush at the thought of a bare breast was incomprehensible. Especially after spending the last several decades in Los Angeles.
“Unbeknownst to me at the time,” I continued, “My arrival into Blackbird was expected. Rupert Donaldson, the founder and owner of Blackbird Paper and Pulp, had just died earlier that week. While his son had long since taken his place as the head of the mill, it seemed I was called to Blackbird to take Rupert’s place in other matters.”
“He was a mystic?”
“That he was,” I said with a smile as I remembered the odd set of coincidences that led me to stop and stretch my legs in the quaint and crumbling city. “Of the six that remained, only Harry is still with us. Oh, you should have seen that little upstart and the hissy fit he threw when he found out I was a woman of loose morals.”
I was powerless to stop myself from going into a fit of laughter at the memory. It was so contagious that Desmond even cracked a smile.
“And Taffy’s opinion?”
“Taffy was still back in Chicago with the man she had stolen from me,” I explained with an expression that I’m sure looked as if I’d bitten into a sour lemon. “It wasn’t until seven years later, when Leon unexpectedly kicked the bucket that she tracked me down. I do believe her intention was simply to come and blame me for his death. As irrational as that was, I’d known Taffy long enough to know that this was just her way of venting her frustrations. She would make my life difficult for a while and then get out of Dodge as soon as the boredom set in. Unfortunately for Taffy, fate had other plans.”
“I’m assuming Blackbird needed a new mystic?”
It should not have surprised me, but I was picking up quite a bit of skepticism from Desmond’s tone. I can’t say that I’d ever met anyone as enigmatic as our resident Warrior and that was saying something, given the number of enigmas Blackbird has attracted over the years.
“As a matter of fact, yes. As I said, Harry was a bit of a young upstart, but the others looked more like a retirement community than a mystic community. Ava, an air witch and the resident coven leader, had just passed mere hours before Taffy’s arrival. Of course, Taffy being Taffy, immediately set her sights on Frederick Donaldson, the richest man in Blackbird at the time, and the two were quickly married. In fact, looking back, I’d say it was very likely that all of the corners cut by the mill had Taffy’s name written all over them. The woman was nothing if not tacky and cheap.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Myrna,” Desmond said with a hint of amusement.
“We would be here all day,” I said with a tight smile, but lightened the mood with a wink. “But whether you want to believe it or not, the history of Blackbird’s mystic community stands as one of the most predictable. Darlene, another psychic, was the next to die. It was at that time that Eller Raglund returned. Louise was hired to manage the bank right after Gray Horse died. Within a few months, her younger cousin Betty came for a visit. It was during that visit that Matilda, ano
ther air witch, died. Needless to say, Betty’s visit became permanent. And finally, it was just a week before Donna came of age that the last witch of the Cloud coven died.”
“And now?” Desmond asked, skepticism replaced by curiosity.
“And now we wait for the next hapless mystic to stumble into town. Admittedly, I’m not as up on current events as I once was, but Donna assures me that none of the young’uns recently have shown an aptitude for magic of any kind, though there is one now who is just entering school age. I am pleased, at least, to know that I will be able to watch the magical progress of my own replacement, even if she is to become Harry’s student.”
“Surely you can’t know who a young child will replace, or when.”
There was, just below the stoic surface, a little bit of emotion choking Desmond’s words and I felt a twinge in my own heart.
“Oh Desmond, you are wonderful for caring, but yes, I’m afraid that through the combination of the Rose family curse, a spirit walker as a best friend, and my own psychic abilities, I am aware of how little time I have left in this body. However,” I said before he had a chance to protest. “I am also aware that I have been blessed with a longer than average lifespan and I am pleased to know that unlike many, I will keep my faculties until the very end. Do not waste another moment worrying for me. Now, I am sure you did not call upon me to hear the long and sordid history of Blackbird’s mystics.”
“No, though I’m afraid Taffy’s passing comes at an inopportune time,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve only been here a few short months, but I have quickly come to accept that there is no such thing as conventional when it comes to Blackbird. However, the Discordant’s most recent attempt to upset our tenuous balance is most troubling. I’m afraid that if you are correct regarding the strength of numerology, this is not a good time to have six mystics.”
“Troubling, yes, but not entirely unexpected,” I agreed with a sigh. “We’ve all known for some time that Blackbird would be shaken to its foundation. Granted, we didn’t expect to be literally shaken,” I added as an aside.
Rise of the Discordant: The Complete Five Book Series Page 60
