by J E McDonald
He shook his head. “Let’s not get into that right now.”
Moe was still in a little ball, and she moved forward to sit beside him. To stare. Because she’d never seen a demon before, and she couldn’t stop examining him. He wasn’t anything like she would have imagined.
For the brief instant she’d seen him in the car, she remembered the color of his skin and the size of his eyes, but not much else. Now she noticed how his skin looked soft and wrinkled, a fine dusting of short hairs everywhere. Since the moment she stepped into the kitchen, his skin had shifted in color a couple of times, from mauve to dark purple, then something closer to grey. He seemed to be all bones, his skin translucent in places, revealing a fine webbing of veins. A small, distended tummy poked over a pair of little black shorts made for children. Two canines protruded from his mouth, little fangs, and his ears were slightly pointed at the tips.
He blinked his big eyes at her scrutiny. Reaching out a hand, she moved to touch his wrinkly skin, then paused. Would he bite her? Her eyes went to Roman, but he didn’t tell her to stop. Instead, he watched her with a shuttered expression.
Moe stretched his neck forward, closing the gap between them, and rubbed his head against her hand, like he wanted her to pet him. His short hairs and loose, velvety skin tickled her palm. He made a small noise, like a purr, then settled back into his seat, a pleased expression on his face. It felt a bit like she imagined petting a shaved pug might.
“The Orphan Karle is very nice. Yes. Nice to Moe.” He opened up the jar of peanut butter and dug out a handful before shoving it in his mouth.
“I’d prefer it if you called me Aubrey, okay?”
The little being nodded. “Yes,” he said after swallowing. “Aubrey O.K. The Orphan Karle. Yes.”
Her eyes went to Roman who looked to be fighting a smile. “He’s going to call me that whole thing now, isn’t he?”
“Probably,” he said, turning away to pour coffee.
By the time she looked at the demon again, the entire jar of peanut butter was empty.
“Don’t worry, I have another one,” Roman said as he set a mug in front of her.
She touched the back of his hand before he could move away and heard him suck in a quick breath. “Thanks for texting Stella earlier.”
He nodded, then took his hand away from her to grab a carton of cream out of the fridge and a sugar bowl out of the cupboard. Sitting across from her, she watched as he poured a whole lot of cream and three spoonfuls of sugar into his mug. Moe wasn’t the only one with a sweet tooth.
She fixed her own with one spoonful of each, then regarded Roman over the rim of her mug. “You said you were going to explain a few things.”
Crunch.
Aubrey looked at the demon and blinked. The empty jar of peanut butter was gone. She leaned back, looked to see if he had dropped it on the floor, but there was nothing. Then he licked his lips.
Her jaw dropped. “Did he…?” She met Roman’s bland expression.
Instead of answering her question, he set his mug on the table and looked at Moe. “How about you watch some TV?”
The demon hopped off the stool. “Yes,” he said, skittering across the floor. “Many still remain young and restless. Yes.” A moment later, the TV blared from the living room. A soap opera from the sounds of it.
Aubrey held her warm mug between her hands and regarded the man across from her. “You have demons in your closet.”
“Just the one,” he said after taking a sip from his coffee.
“No, I think it’s more than that.”
He stared at her and didn’t deny it.
“And you make him sleep in a dog bed?”
Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t make him do anything and would rather he sleep in the regular bed, but he won’t. Always goes to the darkest part of the closet.”
“Why does he do that?”
“He’s part earth demon. It’s in his nature.”
There were different kinds of demons? After this morning, it was hard to process, but she was glad Roman delivered the answers without hesitation. “How long has he been with you?”
“Since the day he was born. Going on ten years now.”
“He’s more like your child than your pet.”
He didn’t refute the statement.
“Why did you name him Moe?”
“It was his first word. I think he was asking for more food.” He lifted his hand briefly, like it was an inadequate explanation but hadn’t known what else to call him.
“Where did you find him?”
This time he hesitated before answering. “It’s not a pretty story.”
“After today, I think I can handle something that isn’t pretty.”
He kept his eyes focused on his coffee mug.
She gestured for him to continue.
With reluctance, he met her gaze. “I sign contracts with the Church not to disclose the work I do for them.”
“I won’t speak of it, but I need to know.”
Leaning back in his chair, he let out a slow breath. “The Church sends me to locations, and I see what I can find. Sometimes it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s the most awful thing you can imagine. Sometimes it’s even worse than that. Moe had been born of a human, but is not human himself. I’d found similar…situations of that kind before, but without the babe surviving. The woman didn’t live through the birth. No one was alive by the time I made it to that house. Fire and air demons had corrupted everyone. Except Moe. He’d just been born. He hadn’t been tainted.”
His whole body was tense as he said the words. Aubrey swallowed the bile gathering in her throat from his description. “So you kept him?”
“What were my other options?”
She shook her head, understanding his question held answers too horrible to think about. “Do all demons look like him?”
“No. Moe is unique. He’s half earth demon and half air demon, and I haven’t come across another like him. He hasn’t lived in the ground, so his skin hasn’t hardened like those of earth demons. And he’s not fully transparent like an air demon.”
“Fully transparent?”
“He has camouflage capabilities.”
Digesting everything he’d told her, Aubrey forced herself to take a sip of her coffee, to appear calm on the outside even though her mind wouldn’t stop.
“And the prophecy?” she asked after a time. “What’s that?”
He grimaced. “There are soothsayers, angels and demons alike, who speak of the future when compelled to do so. One mentioned an Orphan Karle. I thought it was you, didn’t know you had a brother with a summoning hobby.”
Angels really exist? Why would she be surprised by that when a demon had breakfast beside her? She swallowed. “What did the prophecy say exactly?”
Looking past her, he recited, “Beware the Orphan Karle, the key to opening the gates of Plight and a vessel of destruction. Chaos will overtake this world, ending life as you know it. Before the end of the autumnal equinox, nothing but debris will remain of Wickwood unless you make the ultimate sacrifice. Without your reckoning, those you hold dear will perish.”
The way he said it, monotone, made her heart pound hard in her chest. “That’s…heavy.”
He nodded once in agreement.
It not only prophesied the end of Wickwood, but it also predicted the end of his life, his reckoning. Aubrey’s heart clenched. How could he repeat those words so calmly? She swallowed. “What does Plight mean?”
“Hell. The opposite of Peace.”
Aubrey took a sip of her coffee to wet her dry throat. The Orphan Karle. If her brother was going to open the gates of Hell, then he needed to be stopped. The image of that woman’s body appeared in her head. “We need to call the police about the body.”
“I’ve already taken care of it.”
“Then why aren’t they here asking us a bunch of questions?”
“I contacted the FBI, and I’m sure they’ll get to th
e question part eventually.”
“Oh, them again.”
“Again?”
She cleared her throat. “They confiscated some stuff at my store after…” She didn’t want to get into what happened with Stella’s dad when her mind still whirled from what he’d told her. But it looked like he was going to ask, so she added, “One of them was Lucas’s brother, actually.”
No surprise registered on his face.
Another image of the woman’s body plagued her mind, and she swallowed the bile that came with it. “What were those symbols in the shack?”
“Demon language, symbols used for summoning.”
Those symbols had looked like the ones on the vase in her storeroom. Was it a coincidence? “Do you think the thing in my stockroom has something to do with the prophecy?”
“I don’t know,” he said, standing. “I need to take it to someone.”
She stood too. “I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“It’s my crate.”
“You can keep the crate.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her.
She stood straighter. “I’m not going to let you pat my head and say ‘run along little girl.’”
“The past few days have been hard on you.”
That was the truth. But she also didn’t want to be left behind if the vase in the store had something to do with a prophecy that hinted at the end of Roman’s life.
Turning away from her, he picked up his knife holster and shrugged it over his shoulders.
“Is it dangerous where you’re going to take it?”
A brief smile upturned his lips when he turned back to her, making her heart pound in her chest. “No. I just need to talk to a person I don’t like very much.”
She pressed her lips together. “So then, no biggie for me to tag along. And didn’t you say you wanted to keep me in sight or something?”
Staring at her with a piercing gaze, his shoulders finally sagged. “Fine.” He headed to the back door. “Moe, let’s go.”
The TV turned off, and Moe skittered his way into the kitchen. “Is Aubrey O.K. coming too?” he asked, circling her feet.
“Is that all right?” she asked, suddenly feeling like a third wheel.
“Yes.” Moe stretched up on his legs to sniff her hand. “Road trips smell much better with Aubrey O.K. Yes.”
28
As the spires of the Our Lady of Sacrifice came into view, Roman glanced over at Aubrey. Despite everything that had happened this morning, she insisted on driving. He’d already received the text from the cleanup crew about his truck. They’d left it in a parking lot south of town.
When she demanded to come along, he’d wanted to refuse. He needed to protect Aubrey, and that included from Jude. His father’s former partner might taint Aubrey with his filth. But she was right, Roman couldn’t protect her from her deranged brother if she was on the other side of the city. Beside him was the best, the safest, place for her to be—a thought he wouldn’t have had just a few days ago.
They’d already been by Relics and loaded the crate into the back of her hatchback. It lay on its side, the top off and the packing material strewn about. Moe sat in the backseat. He wasn’t really sitting, more like bouncing between the front seat and the back hatch, thrilled by the novelty of three of them instead of just two.
Aubrey pulled into a spot in the visitors’ section of the lot and put the car in park.
“I don’t suppose I can get you to stay in the car,” he said when she’d shut off the engine.
“No.” She cast him a glance. “But what about him?” She looked over her shoulder at Moe.
“He definitely needs to wait in the car. Right Moe?”
The demon let out a sigh as he stared at the park beside the church, then flopped onto his back.
Opening his door, Roman went around to the rear of the car and pulled out the crate. The weight of it made him grunt. Aubrey closed the hatch, and they made their way around the building and up the stone steps to the tall oak doors. Yanking on the brass handle with force, she opened the one side and held it for him. They stepped from the fresh air of the outdoors into the thicker scents of incense and wood polish.
Jude was waiting for them in the foyer, his glasses propped on the top of his head, the scar on his face standing in relief from his other features. His wary gaze bounced between the two of them, then settled on Roman and the crate. “I was surprised to get your call.”
Roman didn’t reply to that statement, instead inclining his head to the woman beside him. “This is Aubrey.”
“A pleasure,” Jude said, extending his hand. “Jude Folkes.”
He didn’t want Aubrey to touch him, but knew Jude couldn’t hurt her with a handshake. Souls didn’t work that way. Unless it was a handshake to seal a deal with the devil.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, taking his hand with a small smile.
“What have you brought for me?” he asked them, his head tipping toward the crate.
“That’s what we’d like you to tell us.” Roman adjusted the load more securely in his arms.
“I have to admit you have me intrigued. How about we head downstairs and take a look?” Jude started down the first few steps, then looked over his shoulder to make sure they were following. “No one will disturb us. I think the whole church staff forgets I’m here most of the time.” He let out a soft laugh.
The deeper they went, the colder the air became. They walked through a long hallway with meeting rooms, then to another door with a sign on it that said “Private.”
The whole feel of the place changed when they walked through the door. Aubrey followed close behind him as they started down winding metal steps. Damp and dust replaced the scents of incense and old wood. Roman had only been down here once as a teenager. They’d needed extra space for old tables and chairs when a new shipment of a more modern style had arrived. This area had creeped him out then, and his opinion hadn’t changed in the past two decades.
They strode between stone walls carved from bedrock beneath the church, long tunnels leading off the main one that seemed to go nowhere. A hundred years ago the cathedral was a monastery, but now the catacombs were only used for storage. Jude led them to one of the larger spaces, possibly used as a dining room a long time ago. The rock walls pressed in on them. Because they were so deep, there were no windows to let in natural light or soften its austere vibe.
Ceiling-high shelves lined every wall, each filled to the edge with artifacts and art pieces from all around the world. Large stained glass windows as tall as Aubrey leaned against one wall. They looked like they’d once belonged in a church older than Our Lady of Sacrifice. Rotting wood framed the meticulously made pieces, images of Madonna and child, and other iconic scenes in each one. Beside that, one shelf was full of ancient-looking books. The musty smell of paper hung heavily around them.
Roman set the crate beside the long table in the middle of the room, then straightened. “How’s Robertson doing?”
“The same.” Jude took a breath. “No. Not the same. A little worse every day. It won’t be long now.”
He felt Aubrey’s gaze on him, but now wasn’t the time to get into the impending death of his mentor.
“Why don’t we take a look?” Jude asked, circling the table. Together they lifted the urn out of the crate and set it gently atop the table.
“Oh, wow,” Jude said once he could see it fully. “This is amazing.” He took the glasses from the top of his head and propped them on the end of his nose, stroking the raised symbols encircling the urn, getting in close to peer at them. “I’ve never seen something like this so well preserved.” He tilted its angle beneath the worktable light so he could see better.
“Do you know what it is?” Aubrey asked, her arms wrapped around herself.
“A vessel of some type,” Jude said without looking at her, his
gaze riveted on the inscriptions.
“A vessel?” Aubrey repeated, her eyes flying to Roman’s.
He stiffened. A vessel of destruction. That was part of the prophecy. Could it have meant this thing in front of them? If so, better for it to be at the church than in Aubrey’s store, but he’d always thought it meant the Orphan Karle specifically, not a literal vessel.
“An old one,” Jude went on. “Where did it come from?”
Aubrey’s shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug. “Someone sent it to me, and I have no idea why. When you say vessel, do you mean there’s something inside?”
“Could be. Like an Egyptian tomb, it could have been made to encase something.” His brow furrowed a moment before he returned his attention to the inscriptions, then he shook his head in disbelief. “This could be thousands of years old.”
“Can you read the writing on it?” Roman asked.
“Some,” he nodded. He tilted the vessel downward so they could see the symbols on the top. “This is the universal symbol for angel, this one for demon. You probably knew that,” he said. His gaze went to Roman for a second, and he nodded his agreement. “But what’s interesting is the way they are faced off against one another. I’ve never seen this arrangement before, this line between them.”
He set the vessel straight, his fingers running over the rows of symbols. “Then there are these bands of writing. The top one is angel speak, the bottom one is demon speak, and the middle is Sumerian. I haven’t seen the three like this together in a very long time.”
“Demon speak?” Aubrey murmured, her face going white. “Why would someone send this to me?”
Roman didn’t have an answer for her. He asked Jude, “Where have you see them before?”
The other man hesitated, his eyes going to Aubrey before he refocused on him. “It was at a job.”
Roman nodded for him to continue. If Aubrey could handle the sight of a demon eating a whole jar of peanut butter, she could take whatever water-downed version of a hunting job Jude would likely deliver.
Jude ran a hand over the back of his head. “I was in Turkey at the time and had been tracking a group of fire demons. You have to admit it’s strange, that they traveled cross country instead of burrowing down in a nest somewhere.”
