by John Corwin
And suddenly I believed him.
Tyler sagged and groaned, leaning against the counter.
I screamed and bolted for the door. Both of my hands wrapped around the handle to the big front door. I jerked and strained, trying desperately to get out as screams tore from my throat.
"Emily."
I turned my head and saw him, the glow fading from his body and screamed even louder.
"You have to hit the button."
I punched the bloody button. The door flew open. Frantically, I pounded the button next to the lift. Tyler stood in the doorway, making no move toward me. The glow was almost gone, and his face looked absolutely whitewashed. He dropped to his knees as if they'd just given out on him.
"Emily, please." His voice was hoarse. "Please don't go. I would never hurt you."
"You're a fucking demon!" I screamed.
The doors dinged open and I leapt inside, hitting the ground floor button with rapid-fire pounding of my fist. The last thing I saw when the doors closed was a tear trickling down his cheek.
I raced to the street the minute the lift doors opened and waved at a taxi. It passed by without stopping. I sprinted down the sidewalk, ignoring the pain in my shins from my heeled shoes, grateful I hadn't worn anything sexier. The next taxi stopped. I climbed inside and told him the address.
"Are you okay?" the driver asked, eyebrows climbing his forehead.
I caught a glimpse of my tear-stained, horrified expression in the mirror. "I'm fine," I said, breaking into uncontrollable sobs. "I'm fine."
By the time I reached home, I was hiccupping from crying so hard. The concierge in the lobby gave me a look as I passed by, but asked no questions. So did the man with a leashed dog in the lift. I looked down at the marble tiles, glancing up only to make sure I was getting out on the right floor. Isabel wasn't home—no surprise. She and Jack were probably out having good normal God-fearing fun.
Meanwhile, I'd gone to dinner with a man possessed by a demon. I'd had sex with a man possessed by a bloody demon.
"Oh my God." I slumped onto the couch. I really knew how to pick them. First Thomas and then—well, technically, I supposed since both Tyler and Thomas were possessed by the same demon, it was the same man—entity—whatever. Good God, I hadn't even picked a man to begin with!
I dropped to my knees, uttering prayers my parents had taught me when I was little, begging for forgiveness and pureness, and everything else I could think of to protect me from a creature of the underworld. I had made love to him. I was tainted!
I blinked my dry eyes, having exhausted my supply of tears, but fresh horror choked me. How long did I have before my head started spinning in circles as I projectile vomited? Frantic, I pulled up the maps app on my phone and found the nearest Catholic Church. It was only a few blocks away. Shedding my heels for tennis shoes, I splashed water on my blotchy pink face, went back down to the streets and made my way for the church and hopefully salvation.
The building loomed large, an old gothic structure sitting with an anachronistic air between modern condos and hip restaurants. A large stone basin—the font—stood inside the main entrance, brimming with holy water. Since the foyer was empty of people, I ran to the font and, cupping water in my hands, splashed it on my face. I even drank some as feverish fear spread through me.
I expected pain as the holy water burned the evil out of me, but instead, it felt no different than normal water. I spotted an old priest, cane in hand, wander from behind a closed door and head toward the sanctuary. "Excuse me, Father."
"Hmm?" He looked around through thick glasses before his gaze settled on me. "Yes, young lady?"
"This is holy water, right?"
"Yes."
"And it should cleanse away bad stuff, right?"
He chuckled. "Perhaps you're thinking of confession. When was the last time you confessed, child?"
Truthfully, I never had. My parents weren't Catholic. They were non-denominational. But the Catholics were the ones in all the movies who dealt with demons, from what I remembered. "A very long time, sir." I stepped toward him, my wet hair dripping down my face. "Would that help with demons?"
"Demons?" He raised a gray eyebrow. "We all have our personal demons, child. Confession helps us root them out. Forces them into the open."
"I'm talking more about the kind of demons that possess people and glow green."
"Is this some sort of joke?" The old man pursed his lips and looked mightily offended. "And why are you soaked with holy water? You'd better leave before I call the police."
"Please sir, I'm not joking. I really need your help."
"I'm sure you're trying to make a video for your internets. Trying to make me look foolish." The priest shook his head. "Leave this place of worship and bother the Baptists instead."
My heart sank. I felt like a complete wanker. "Fine. I'll go." I splashed more water on my face, further soaking my hair before leaving. The wind outside nearly froze the holy water to holy ice as I made my way back home. Holy shit, was it cold. I didn't know a thing about demons. Either holy water didn't do a damned thing, or else I wasn't tainted with evil just yet. What in the bloody, bloody hell was I going to do?
The concierge looked at me as if I'd come completely unhinged when I walked back through the lobby, shivering, teeth chattering, my hair and shirt soaked with water. "Are you okay, ma'am?"
I hit the lift button and nodded. "Bit of an accident. I'm fine now."
"Can I do anything to help?"
It felt awfully nice to have someone act like they cared. I smiled. "Thanks so much, but really, it's just water."
"Just buzz me if you need anything."
The concierge's neck looked thick as a utility pole. Shoulder muscles bulged against his shirt, and his biceps strained to burst through the fabric. He might be able to throw most men across the room, but I doubted he could do a thing against a demon. "I will."
Back inside the flat, I made hot tea, grabbed my laptop, and started a furious search on demons. I found thousands of references on the mythos surrounding the creatures, most of them thoroughly explored in movies. None of them referenced quite what I'd seen. I cross-referenced the greenish flames and burning eyes, but none of the search results mentioned anything to do with demons.
Tyler knew where I lived. I had no idea if demons could come into a home uninvited or not, but since he'd already been inside once, I doubted a door would be much of a barrier. Part of my mind still couldn't grasp the situation. Growing up in a religious family, I'd heard of demons. I'd read about them in the Bible, possessing pigs and all sorts of freaky stuff, but the Almighty always sorted out those situations. The possessed usually had complexions like pubescent teenagers with severe pimple issues and skin rashes, from what I understood. Tyler looked, well, perfect. Thomas hadn't exactly looked terrible either. And he'd been far friendlier while demon possessed, that much was certain.
Tears trickled down my face. What was I going to do? He owned the company I worked for. He'd had his way with me in the bedroom.
"And he's an evil demon," I whined like a child with spilt milk. After Peter's betrayal and our breakup, I thought I'd reached the absolute depths of miserable despair. But it was clear I'd never felt so strongly for anyone as I did for Tyler. Even Thomas's transformation from fabulous to asshole was just a blip compared to what I felt like now. It was like enduring the worst cramps of a period in a world without chocolate or Nutella.
I was lying on the couch, my face buried in a pillow when I heard muffled laughing outside the door. Before I could get up, Isabel and Jack came inside, laughing, gloriously happy. I tried to slink away but Isabel gasped.
"Em, what's wrong?" She rushed to my side, taking my arm and looking with alarm at my face.
"I just fell asleep on the couch."
"Where's Tyler? What did the bastard do to you?"
"Nothing it's...nothing." My voice was a mumble. I felt a hand on my other arm, and looked to see Jack's worried fa
ce.
"Emily, you need to tell us what's wrong."
I knew for certain that telling them the truth was a terrible idea. It had been a terrible idea for Tyler to tell me his dark truth. "We had an argument. I got mad and left, and now I'm regretting it."
"Aww, honey," Isabel said, giving me a hug and rubbing my back. "All you have to do is call him. I'll bet he'd rush over here in a heartbeat and beg for forgiveness."
I burst into fresh tears as my body made use of the holy water I'd imbibed. Isabel's hug tightened.
"Should I go?" Jack asked.
"No, it's okay," Isabel said. "I think we should all go down for drinks."
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said. "I look like complete shit."
"Why don't you go clean up?" Isabel patted my hand. "You don't need to be sitting here alone on a Friday night."
"I don't—" I hiccupped, "—want to mess up yours and Jack's plans."
"We were gonna get some drinks, nothing big," Jack said.
I didn't know what to do with myself. It was like being right back at square one again. I should have remembered why I'd given up on men in the first place. Just my luck that I'd end up with someone who wasn't even human.
Chapter 28
After cleaning up the hot mess that was me, I went with Jack and Isabel to Gronsky's. It only occurred to me after we'd sat down, that Tyler had come here before. He'd told Isabel and me that he came here regularly, though she hadn't remembered seeing him at all. Was it possible that he'd been here as Thomas and knew I came here?
I thought back to the first evening I'd met Thomas. How he'd saved Isabel and me from Stephen. Bought us cab fare, and sent us on our way. He didn't seem evil. But he's a bloody demon!
Alex set a fruity-looking drink in front of me. I didn't even know what it was since Isabel had taken the initiative and ordered it. I took a sip and tasted mango with rum.
"What was the argument about?" Isabel asked, an identical drink in her hand.
I couldn't think of anything to say, and I wasn't in the mood to come up with something. "I don't want to talk about it. Maybe later, okay?" I forced a smile.
"A few of these, and you'll talk about it all night," Isabel said with a grin. "And I'll make sure not to let you drunk text him."
That would not be a problem. Even knowing what I did, it was hard to wrap my brain around. Tyler—as Thomas—had taken me on some great dates. The karaoke, dance lessons, the restaurants—I'd had so much fun. At least now I knew why that attraction had transferred over to Tyler. Why so many things felt familiar despite the extreme differences in looks and money.
And those people who'd chased us, the Exorcists, had been after the demon. They must have driven him out of Thomas Jones, giving the real man his amnesia. It was so confusing, I didn't even know what name to give to Tyler. Did the demon have another name?
Well of course, stupid. What demon would have the name Tyler?
It was probably something long and impossible to say. Or maybe it was more along the lines of Beelzebub or Asmodeus. I remembered some of them from my search on demons. To keep things straight in my head, I decided Tyler was a perfectly fine name for now.
"You look like you're trying to push one out." Isabel wore an amused look on her face.
"I look like what?" I gave her a horrified look. Why would she would say such a thing in front of Jack?
"What are you thinking about? I swear your face looks like it's going to explode."
"Demons, if you must know." Let her chew on that one.
"Things just got biblical," Jack said with a grin.
Isabel knitted her brow. "Is this somehow related to your dad's visit? Or did you and Tyler get into an argument about who's the most evil of you two?"
"Are all demons bad?" I asked, hoping to skirt the whys of my wonderings.
"Far as I know." Isabel shrugged. "Maybe you should ask your dad."
I already knew what he'd say. He was a man of God after all.
"Demons are usually the bad guys in all the mythology," Jack said. "But if you think about it, angels were supposed to be the good guys, and look what happened to some of them."
"Like Lucifer?" I said.
"Yeah. Good guy goes bad. I guess there could be good demons." He twitched, as if remembering something unpleasant. "Nobody can help how they're born."
"Oh, that opens up a whole new can of worms," Isabel said. "Are demons born, or are they made?"
I'd never even given it much thought. Were demons born? I had no idea how they'd come about. Perhaps they were all fallen angels.
"This has got to be the strangest conversation I've had over drinks." Jack winked at Isabel.
"You never told me why in the world you're thinking about this, Em." Isabel gave me an expectant look, raising an eyebrow and pursing her lips. "Does Tyler not believe in God? Is that what this is about?"
Talk about a loaded question. I felt certain that demons most certainly believed in God. But it was too good an out for me to take to say no. "Yes. We were arguing about religion. I don't know what to do."
Isabel had plenty of advice on that front. She wasn't particularly religious herself, and told me, in a nutshell, to keep an open mind about it. Jack, on the other hand, said that I'd never change Tyler, and forcing him to go to church would be disastrous. He had no idea how right he probably was. I wondered if the church or the demon would explode if one walked through the front door.
I drank far too much and stayed up far too late. I vaguely remembered Jack and Isabel carting me home and laying me in bed. I awoke the next day with a raging headache, roiling stomach, and a sick heart.
"Oh, Tyler," I said, and cried into my pillow. I had no will to get up or move, though the urge to pee finally forced action. It hurt just to stand. I stared at my miserable face in the mirror—dark lines beneath my eyes, blotchy tear-streaked face, and atrocious frizzy hair.
The hangover hurt, but the heartache I felt overwhelmed it. Thomas and Tyler might as well have never existed. It hadn't been them in control, but some evil force of Hell. Despite my religious upbringing, a part of me had never truly believed in angels and demons until now.
Why me?
What was so bloody special about me that demonic forces decided I was worth targeting? My father? He was the only reason I could think of. I felt so ashamed, having been duped. So dirty. If I had my way, I'd never tell him about this.
After drinking some water, and taking a painkiller, I dropped back into bed. Isabel and Jack were gone for the day, hiking or something. I remembered them talking about it as I'd soaked my emotions in alcohol.
I looked at my phone, and was ashamed to admit a part of me hoped Tyler had called or texted. But there was nothing waiting. Fresh grief washed through me, and tears trickled down my cheeks.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" I shouted.
Nobody answered.
I passed the weekend despondent except for the required responses to Isabel's queries of concern, and her demands that I eat. But I wasn't hungry. Even a few bites of food seemed to fill my appetite since swollen grief flooded every empty space within me.
Monday came.
As I walked to work, fear and excitement seesawed back and forth in my stomach, each one taking turns, leaving my emotions jumbled beyond recognition. I found myself hoping Tyler would be there one minute, to praying he wouldn't the next. I wanted to see him so much it hurt. I feared seeing him so much it hurt.
I am fucked.
Kevin and Jack kept me busy, and that helped me keep myself together. Every time someone walked past in the hallway outside the conference room, I looked up, hoping for and dreading the possibility it might be Tyler. But he never came. Jack gave me a knowing look once, but said nothing. He seemed to understand something of what I was going through, and I didn't remember a lot of what I'd said to him and Isabel on Friday after drinking myself silly.
Tuesday came. Still no Tyler.
Wednesday blurred into Thu
rsday, and Friday arrived without a single hint Tyler was even around. The dread in me drained away until only the fear that something had happened to him made me a nervous wreck. But what could really happen to him? Hadn't those Exorcists caught up with him before, and he'd come back anyway?
Why hadn't he tried to contact me? Even Peter had fallen all over himself begging forgiveness and wanting me back after I'd found out his dark secrets. Tyler obviously didn't care. And, well, it made me really mad.
Isabel pranced down the hallway in our flat, looking radiant in a tight green dress, golden hoop earrings dangling by her face, eyeliner highlighting her exotic canted eyes. As if Isabel didn't already look exotic enough.
"You look beautiful," I said. "Big date?"
"Jack's taking me to a show at the Fox Theatre." She turned around. "How do I look?"
"Slutty." I stuck out my tongue.
She laughed, dropped onto the couch next to me. "We're supposed to meet some of his friends for drinks after the show."
"Oh, the big friends introduction," I said, waggling my eyebrows. "Must be serious."
She grabbed my hand, a huge grin spreading on her lips. "He's taking me to lunch with his parents on Saturday." She squealed. "Can you believe it?"
I couldn't remember the last time she'd been excited about meeting a boyfriend's parents. "Izzy, I'm really happy for you." I choked up, though truth be told it was partially because I felt so sorry for myself. The rest, though, was pure happiness for my friend.
"Don't cry," she said, taking deep breaths. "You're going to make me cry now."
I wiped my eyes and forced a grin. "Have you two consummated the relationship yet?"
"You mean, has he done me yet?"
Warmth flooded my face.
Isabel laughed. "You are too easy, girl. Not yet. We're waiting. I wanted to talk to you about it, but you haven't been exactly communicative this week." She tilted her head slightly. "What really happened with you and Tyler? I totally respect your privacy, but remember Peter? Remember the shit that bastard put you through and you refused to tell me until months later? How can you stand not having a friend to talk to?"
