by Sara DeHaven
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Afterword
DEMONSENSE
Sara DeHaven
Copyright © <2015> Sara DeHaven
All rights reserved.
Visit the author’s website at
Saradehaven.com
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, compiled, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any storage information and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written consent of Sara DeHaven
Chapter 1
You can do this, Bree Jenkins told herself firmly as she walked up the front steps of St. Anselm’s church. This is insane, was her next thought as she grasped the cold handle of the door. She froze in mid action, angel on one shoulder, devil on another. Almost literally. Her Demonsense rose like toxic smoke. The child must already be here.
An eight-year-old boy. It was probably the only thing that could have lured her out of hiding. And Dion had known that, known she couldn't say no when a child was involved. The canny bastard had been waiting for a case like this.
The dull Seattle rain went from misting to drizzling, and she forced herself into motion, pulled open the heavy wood door, and entered the church. The smell of dry dust and incense hit her nose, and she sneezed. Father Anselm hovered just inside like a nervous bird, tugging on the stole around his neck. "Jeremy and his foster mother have already arrived," he said in a low voice.
"Is Valerie here?" Bree asked, digging in the pocket of her raincoat. Bingo. She fished out the dried up ball of kleenex, teased it apart and wiped at her nose.
"Not yet. Did you want to meet Jeremy now or wait for your second?"
"I'll wait," Bree answered, heat rising in her face as she shoved the tissue back in her pocket. There was no real reason to wait, she was just scared out of her tiny mind. She wondered how obvious it was, and the answer came to her almost immediately, via her Reader sense. It was there in the way Father Anselm's eyes darted down and to the left, in how he shifted his weight on his feet to move himself just that extra inch away from her. Her own fear was infecting the priest. Which was ridiculous. She wouldn't have been assigned primary on this one if the demon was a big one. Okay, maybe semi-ridiculous. If you weren't afraid of exorcisms, you'd never done one.
Her Demonsense clamored, and she took a deep breath and focused on tucking it away in the back of her brain. She'd need it later, but right now, it was just frazzling her nerves.
An awkward silence fell as they stood in the foyer of the church. Mercifully, the door to the nave was closed. Her stomach filled with acid, knowing a demon was just on the other side of that door. Possessing a little boy, she reminded herself, trying to build up some sense of outrage. That was what used to help her overcome the fear. Her hatred of demons was a dense, layered thing, but the horror of Seth's death had blanketed it with a terror just as dense.
"Perhaps we should pray?" Father Anselm asked.
"That would be good."
He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and intoned, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
Bree's lips moved along with the priest's, but skepticism rang an antiphon in her head. You don't believe this anymore. God won't protect you. She tried to recapture the sense of comfort the prayer used to bring, but it remained elusive. And that wasn't good. Faith helped power the magical energy of exorcism spells. It was an ally she was used to having, imperfect though her faith had always been.
Father Anselm had gotten through the Our Father and had just started in on a Hail Mary when Valerie breezed in, rain sparkling in the dark, curly hair framing her face. She was tiny, her head just topping Bree's shoulder. "Oops, sorry to interrupt," she chirped, skidding to a halt.
"No trouble at all, really," Father Anselm said, bending a little at the waist, as if he were speaking to a child.
"I'm Valerie Katzman. I'm guessing you're Father Anselm, and you must be Bree." She stuck her hand out to shake.
"Good to meet you," Bree said automatically as she shook hands, already sizing up her second. A good amount of confidence there, as well as some nervous excitement. Clearly, Valerie hadn't yet been at an exorcism that had gone badly wrong. On balance, Bree decided that was a good thing. Someone ought to be showing a little optimism around here.
Valerie put down her orange messenger bag, and Father Anselm reached for her coat as she shucked it, prompting Bree to get out of hers. She shrugged off her backpack and set in on the floor, then handed over her coat. As the priest went to hang up their wet jackets, she turned to Valerie. "I know we talked on the phone, but I thought it would be a good idea for us to compare notes on equipment and spells just to make sure we're both clear."
"No worries, I've worked with Catholics before," Valerie replied with a smile.
They both bent over their respective bags and laid out their exorcism kits. Bree's was relatively simple. Just her grandmother's gold crucifix, a bottle of holy water, one of salt, and a battered red bible. Bree donned the crucifix as Valerie laid out her shofar, giving the ram's horn an affectionate little pat, a censor full of incense, a purple bic lighter, a silver necklace on a red cord that Valerie helpfully labeled a Haari amulet, and a bundle of candles inscribed with Hebrew characters.
"So that's it, that's my stuff. I generally charge the candles when laying the warding circle around the subject," Valerie said.
"That will be fine," Bree reassured her. "I'd say go ahead with the incense once the demon starts to engage, but hold off with the shofar unless you end up having to take primary. I don't usually work with sound in that way, and I'm afraid it'd distract me."
"Works for me. So, shall we start warding?" She pulled a black marker from her pocket and got to work, drawing warding symbols on her palms to inhibit the demon from possessing her if it got free. They wouldn't work on a truly powerful demon, but this one was in the low to mid power range, as advertised. Bree could tell that through the door. Bree took the marker from Valerie and did her own palms, triggering the warding spell with a little inward twist of power. It was familiar and strange at the same time. She'd been avoiding power use for months.
"Ready?" Valerie asked her.
Bree swallowed, and turned to look for Father Anselm. He was just returning from wherever he'd gotten off to with their coats, cassock flapping around his legs as he hurried up. His narrow face was flushed. "I think we're ready to go," Bree told him. "Do you have any questions?"
Father Anselm gave Valerie an anxious look. "Would you be offended if my prayers called on Jesus or Mary?"
Valerie shook her head. "Not at all, Father. The spells all weave together on an energetic level. The words don't really matte
r, except in how they work for you emotionally. It's all about raising the energy."
Ah, the enthusiasm of the newbie. Dion had assured her Valerie had taken primary before, but now Bree wished she had asked how often. She waited for a pause in Valerie's giddy rush of information to say, "We'd better not wait any longer. The boy and his foster mother are already here."
Valerie stopped talking, and a distracted look appeared on her face. "Okay, now I can feel the demon."
Well, most people's Demonsense wasn't as strong as hers. Dion was always insisting she'd gone high power on Demonsense and Exorcist powers, but Bree didn't want to get tested. She'd finagled almost a year and a half's respite from exorcisms after being widowed, and that would be well and truly ended if word got out she was high power.
Bree led the way to the door of the sanctuary and opened it. Apparently, it had been blocking a certain amount of sound, because a child's screech greeted her immediately. She could see the boy and his foster mother in a pew near the front of the church, where they were engaged in some kind of struggle. Mostly likely, the boy was trying to leave. She shouldn't have left them unattended for so long.
She strode down the aisle, starting at last to feel just a bit like her old self. She approached the pair and said, "Hi, I'm Bree. I'm here to help you out."
The woman looked up at her with a face lined with strain. She had the boy pinned with both hands gripping his upper arms. The boy was a round-faced towhead with hazel eyes much like Bree's, tending a bit more towards green than brown. The demon was there in his gaze, though not at the surface. "I'm Carla, and this here is Jeremy," the woman said. She was slight in build, and her frizzy brown hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail. Valerie introduced herself as well, voice subdued.
Bree knelt down to put herself closer to Jeremy's level. "I know you've been having some troubles, Jeremy. Something inside you is making you act up, making you be mean to other people. It's something called a demon. Father Anselm and Valerie and I know how to help kids with that."
"Don't want no help," Jeremy mumbled, eyes downcast.
The demon had receded in a futile attempt to hide its presence. "I know all this might be scary, but it's kind of like going to the doctor. Not a bunch of fun, but you feel a lot better once you get the medicine."
Bree put out a finger, gently raised his chin and looked into his eyes, trying to connect with him, whatever of him was still left with a demon taking up much of his consciousness. Her Reader sense was at high pitch, feeding her data and coming up with patterns. His gaze slid away immediately, and she didn't think that was due to the demon. He was rigid in Carla's grip, his body canted away from her even while one of his hands clutched the hem of her sweater. A trauma history of some kind, that went without saying for just about any foster child, but it went deep with this one. Father Anselm had told her some of the boy's story. He'd been difficult to manage even before the possession, with outbursts of rage, physical aggression towards other children, and a tendency toward cruelty to animals. Demons didn't go after children often, usually finding a richer diet in violently inclined adults, but children like this were vulnerable to demon possession. There was so much pain for the demon to work with.
Bree stood back up and addressed Carla. "We're going to be working in front of the altar. We'll make a circle around Jeremy with candles, and Father Anselm will be there with him. We'll be doing some prayers, and then we'll help the demon come out of Jeremy."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Carla asked.
"Just be here where Jeremy can see you when it's all over. Once we get started, though, I'll want you in the back of the church. No matter what you see or hear, don't approach until we tell you it's over. As you know, the process isn't without danger. But as I'm sure Father Anselm told you..." Bree hesitated, not sure how much to say in front of Jeremy. She didn't want to frighten him more than he already was.
"I know there's more risk in doing nothing. I just hope all this is real. He's been through so much already." Carla's face went soft as she glanced down at the back of the boy's head.
"It's real, all right," Valerie piped up. "But don't you worry, it's going to be fine."
Unless it's not fine, Bree thought grimly to herself. There was a higher chance of the demon killing the host when they possessed a child. They tended to overfeed on children.
Bree paced out the circle, then Valerie laid out her candles while Bree set up her supplies facing the altar. Father Anselm spoke quietly with Carla. The demon was quiescent, the boy still, but that would change in short order. Finally, things were set up to Bree's satisfaction, and she told Father Anselm, "It's time."
The priest put out a hand to Jeremy, but the child ignored it, a stubborn look descending on his features. There was an undignified struggle as Carla let go of the boy and Father Anselm got a grip on him. "These people are just trying to help you," Carla said tearfully as Father Anselm dragged Jeremy into the circle. Bree felt queasy at the sight. She'd done exorcisms on children before, and they were always the most emotionally difficult. What on earth had she been thinking to agree to this as her first one back?
She squared her shoulders and entered the circle. She would just have to make it work. Valerie's voice was a soft murmur behind her as the young woman activated the last of the candles. The warm, tingling rush of wards rising washed across Bree's back. Jeremy jerked against Father Anselm's hold, and the priest's face was pale and set.
Bree put the bottle of holy water and her bible down at her feet, and pulled off the cork on the bottle of salt she'd kept in her hand, stowing the cork in the pocket of her jeans. She poured some salt out into her palm. "Holy Father," she began, reaching inside to activate her base energy, "bless this salt that it may serve your will." Her energy swelled, and she felt a portion of it permeating the salt. As energy and salt connected, she felt a rush of well being, and the sensation nearly brought tears to her eyes. It had been so very long since she used power.
She began walking the circle just inside the candles, pouring out salt as she went. This was the beginning of raising energy for the exorcism. It started as energy from her body, from that mysterious place she was born with, but as she walked the circle, the energy began to take on a life of it's own. She could feel it forming a positive feedback loop with Valerie's wards. Valerie had done well; the wards were tuned specifically for exorcism. Her estimation of her second's skill level grew.
As she finished the circle, she put her tongue to her palm, the salt making her mouth water. At the same moment, she triggered her will energy to complete the spell. As the magical energy throbbed more fully to life, Jeremy whined, "I don't want to, let me go!" Bree didn't let herself look at him. It wasn't time to begin the dance with the demon.
She re-corked the salt bottle, set it down, then opened the one full of holy water. She sprinkled it as she walked the circle again, praying as she went, and to her relief, the spell energy intensified further. Her Exorcist ability helped her feel and shape the energy. The energy of the salt spell was white, that of the holy water spell silver. They wove together in an intricate binding that contained demonic energy. Father Anselm's lips moved in quiet prayer, and with her heightened senses, Bree could see that small, natural power of faith surrounding him like a gold mist. She glanced around at Valerie, and the energy around her was a blue-green light wavering in the air. It was beautiful. Too bad it was all so fragile. Yes, the spells could contain a demon, but only so long as it wasn't too strong. It could all come down like a house of cards if she misjudged the strength of a demon. Which she had only ever done once, during her last exorcism.
Bree felt her nascent confidence wavering at that thought. She took a deep breath and refocused. She put down the bottle of water and picked up her bible. Almost on cue, her Demonsense surged. Demons could recognize the energy of exorcism spells, as most had been exorcised numerous times in their eons of experience. And this demon was being drawn to the surface by it.
&nbs
p; Bree looked into Jeremy's eyes as she began to draw on her will energy. Her gut twisted at the orange light she saw there. Funny to think the priest wouldn't be able to see it when, to her eyes, the demon sign positively glowed. This was going to move quickly if the demon was that close to the surface already. "Dear Lord, bless this working with your word," she said, raising the bible before her. Her voice held an embarrassing quaver as she spoke. "Bless all present here today in your service. We come together to relieve this boy, Jeremy, of the influence of evil. He has been taken by a demon unwilling."
The final words of the activation caused a familiar mix of excitement and dread to well up inside Bree. The dread, she had expected. The excitement not so much, and it was encouraging. That was the part of her ready to do battle with the demon.
She walked toward Jeremy, who had gone completely still. At every step, her Demonsense spiked further. And at this point, that's what she wanted it to do, in spite of the nausea it caused. Jeremy's eyes widened in fear, but Bree wasn't buying it. Her Demonsense let her know the demon had moved to the forefront of Jeremy's consciousness. It was in control now, miming the expressions of a terrified child.
She moved the bible closer to Jeremy, and he reared back, head impacting with a thud against Father Anselm's chest. "All sacred scripture is anathema to demon kind," Bree said conversationally. She wasn't talking to Jeremy.
"I want to go home," Jeremy whimpered convincingly.
"Perhaps we should try blessed salt next." Bree turned back and set the bible on the floor, and picked up the narrow glass bottle of salt. Bree wished that plastic didn't kill off most magical energy. She'd cut herself on broken glass during exorcisms too many times to count. Once again, she poured salt into her palm, and she approached Jeremy. She felt some of the salt sticking to the sweat that had broken out on her hands as her Demonsense rose. She held her hand palm up and, gathering her will energy, spoke the words, "Reveal yourself, demon," and blew the salt gently onto the boy.
