by CC Dragon
Then everything went blank.
Chapter Fourteen
Gunnar made French toast and we all ate like we were starving. I ate and read the notes in the doc’s folder. He was on his fifth cup of coffee and still in disbelief.
“You think the cannibal attacks are a hate crime?” I asked.
Ivy added syrup to her full plate. “The flesh was taken from the Jewish body. All the graves that were opened were recently buried people. But hate crime?”
“But there were graves messed with all over the cemetery and not just this one. Was that to throw people off? A distraction? Or were they not connected?” Greg asked.
“Halloween always has the crazies and pranksters,” I commented
“Why would someone who hates Jews want to eat them?” Gunnar asked.
“Fair point,” Paul acknowledged.
“What if it’s something to do with Jesus? Like communion. Eat of my flesh and all that. They want to be healed. Eating dead people is a bit literal to me.” Ivy shuddered.
“If they believe in Jesus, they wouldn’t dig up a grave. Communion is way easier,” I said.
“No, but there are those theories about Jesus having a bloodline. They could be looking for a descendent. Getting DNA samples.” Ivy shrugged.
It could happen but then why open three graves? I didn’t feel like that fit this situation at all.
“Do we have to talk cannibal case while we eat?” Greg asked.
I closed the folder. “It’s not a bloodline thing. And it’s not a hate crime.”
“The angels told you that?” the doc asked.
I shot him a look. “You can leave if you’re going to mock.”
“I’m not mocking. You say angels fought off the demon last night. I feel different now. Something definitely happened there. You say you can see the dead, angels, and demons. Okay, let them help us.” Paul took a bite of food.
He finally seemed like he was settling down. “Why did you get so obsessed with this? Just randomly? Was it all the demon? You’ve been overly interested in this case since the beginning,” I pointed out.
“My maternal grandfather was a toddler during the Holocaust. He was lucky. Someone smuggled him out of a Jewish ghetto. My mother tried to keep me away from those stories but he wanted me to know. Hate is real,” Paul said.
I could see he wasn’t entirely professionally detached at this point. “Hate is real. Evil is real. But I really don’t think hate is the motive.” I put my hand on his to be comforting but the actual spark that popped when my skin touched his made me back off.
“Why only eat Jews then? Kosher cannibals?” Greg asked.
“Haha. How would you even if that person kept Kosher? That’s not feasible.” I looked at the Paul. “I need to pick your medical brain. I’m pretty sure I’m right but I’m not sure of the exact medical effects. What happens if a human were to drink embalming fluid?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Considering that it’s fifty percent formaldehyde, drinking even an ounce could kill you. Depending on how diluted it is and how much you consume, you’d get really sick if it didn’t put you in a coma. Why?”
“I think we have smart cannibals, not hateful ones,” I said.
“Jews don’t embalm.” Paul smiled.
Mary Lou was staying quiet in the corner and eating but the look on her face said she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Exactly. If they’re really consuming this flesh, they’d likely get sick if they picked any random corpse. This is the cannibal equivalent of going organic.” I shrugged. “No wonder they’ve tried the morgue or even funeral homes. Easier access, transport, and to avoid serious illness—they want to get the body before its embalmed.”
“It’s gross no matter what it is,” Ivy said.
“Agreed but this makes me think they are eating it somehow and for some reason. At first, I thought it was just disrespect or mocking something. Now I’m worried they are consuming decomposing tissue. That’s not good either.” I got up and refilled our coffee cups.
“My theory was completely wrong,” he said.
“These aren’t your normal cases. Criminal or medical. Plenty of theories seem good and end up wrong. As long as we catch the bad guys, that’s what matters,” I said.
Matt nodded. “Right. We did put out warnings to all funeral homes and morgues and nursing homes. Plus, hospice services and first responders.”
“I get this is bad. Disrespectful. Grave robbing is bad. Cutting up bodies is really bad but with surveillance they’ll catch them. It’s not like it’s a live person getting hurt.” Mary Lou shrugged.
“They could escalate,” I said.
“Like how? Roast a whole corpse?” Gunnar asked.
Most of us pushed our plates away.
“Enough cannibal recipe talk. If they want to eat human flesh, the dead are safe but decayed. If they escalate or if these are zombie imitators or wannabe zombies, they’ll eventually want flesh from a living person. I can’t have a headline that says someone was found with a bite taken out of them. Or killed and cooked whole.”
“You could remove parts and keep the person alive. Just have to control the bleeding,” Paul said.
“We all saw ‘American Horror Story – Roanoke’. Let’s leave that to them, please.” Ivy shook her head. “Thank God we didn’t make bacon to go with this.”
“Sorry. Okay, if you think they’ll go after live people, I get it.” Mary Lou grabbed some juice from the fridge.
“What were you going to suggest if the case went cold?” Greg asked.
“Maybe Deanna should take down Lester?” Gunnar suggested.
“Lester?” Paul asked.
“He’s a problem. He’s got powers. Bad ones. He’s all about power. No matter how he gets it, he just wants more. Now isn’t the time. I need to be stronger and we need an opening.” I didn’t feel that Lester was behind these attacks.
“You have four angels protecting you,” Greg said.
“They don’t work for me. Those orders come from the big guy. I can push my guardian angel’s buttons but if I split focus, it might make things harder. I do better getting information and help from Death but I don’t think that’ll work this time.”
“Death?” Paul his head.
“The angel of death can be summoned. Death scares the living,” I replied.
“Not you,” Ivy said.
“Heaven is pretty nice. When your time is up, it’s up. I think I have some work left to do. Maybe when I’m eighty,” I said.
“You’ve been to Heaven?” Paul asked.
“Sort of.” I wanted this guy on my team for the clinics, not dragged into my personal crap.
Paul got up and walked out of the kitchen.
“I think we freaked him out,” Ivy said.
“I’ll handle it,” Mary Lou offered.
“Mary Lou,” Matt said.
“What?” she asked.
“This isn’t your house. We’re guests here. Friends know when to stop. You’re pushing into her life. It’s not your gift or your job,” Matt explained.
“Fine.” Mary Lou headed upstairs.
“I’ll talk to her,” Matt said.
“No, I need to at some point. But thanks,” I said.
“Your friend needs help first.” Greg nodded to the living room where Paul had escaped to.
“Can we stop with the heaven, death, angels, and demons chatter for a bit? Not everyone crosses these lines like we do,” I said.
I followed Paul to where he paced in the living room muttering to himself. It was oddly cute.
“I was going to say I’m not crazy but you seem to be spinning out right now,” I said.
“Sorry, I don’t get your world. Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, you can put me on a psych hold but it’ll do you no good. I grew up faking being boring and normal. I can pass all the tests and I’m never a danger to myself. Pretending I didn’t see the dead was how I survived my childhood. My family
was freaked out. I finally found a place where I sort of fit in. I know it’s odd but you said yourself you typically wouldn’t come over at two in the morning to discuss your theory.” I shrugged.
“So?” he asked.
“So, that demon that appeared behind you pushed you. Nudged you. It got inside your head. It probably steered your theory, playing on your family connections and fear that it could happen again. Then prodded you to come here now. It had entry—it walked in with you. It’s not your fault. Greg can give you some tips and tricks to pick up on demonic attachment.” I pointed to the holy water holders on the wall. “My grandmother was obsessed with it. All the statues and holy water. The house is pretty secure.”
“I’m not really. I’m not Catholic,” he said.
I waved. “That’s okay. You just need to get in touch with your faith in a higher power. Whatever triggers that, hold onto that. You have to keep it up.”
“I’m an academic. A man of science. Honestly, my parents didn’t really take us to church ever. I don’t have that.”
I frowned. “The demon played on your Jewish ancestor. Maybe explore religion. Catholicism is fairly harmless. I mean, the bad crap is out there but it won’t sneak up on you and turn into a cult. But there are tons of churches in New Orleans. The important thing is it feels right.”
“Feels right. I don’t know how to do that. I don’t think I’m cut out for this sort of work. I mean, you profess to have proof of life after death.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Do you know what that means?”
“I have no proof other than my experience. No one would take that as evidence. You think I’m crazy,” I said.
“No. I was trying to help catch grave defilers. I want to help with your clinics. Religious stuff is not my area but recovery and sorting through issues contributing to addiction is. But demons and angels?” He headed for the door. “Sorry.”
I closed the door behind him as he left.
“Men,” I said as I returned to the kitchen.
Ivy nodded in agreement.
Gran appeared. “You have to watch out for him.”
“Gran, I can’t babysit everyone in New Orleans. Now he knows what he’s in for if he gets too close to me. Hopefully, he sticks with the clinics but he needs to be able to protect himself.”
“That demon was coming for you, not him. It just used him to get to you. That isn’t your responsibility?” she asked.
“I kept him here overnight. I explained it to him. If he keeps his distance that’s his choice. Then he should be fine. I doubt he’ll come back to the mansion.” I was tired and mentally fried. “I need people on my team who can handle themselves. Who can be there to back me up when I’m getting attacked. He’s not in this fight. Let him help with the clinic and that side of it.”
“Ivy has no supernatural gifts. She’s no exorcist.” Gran folded her arms.
“She believes. She knows this stuff is real and works for the right side. You called her a grounding force when I first came here. You’re right, she’s very grounded in reality and this world. But she doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy when I say there’s a demon in the foyer or an angel in my bedroom. I don’t need a guy to make me feel stupid.” I heard the words coming out of my mouth and I knew where I’d gone wrong.
“Your father and grandfather dismissed you. This man asked questions. He’s new to it. Don’t dismiss him because it might take him a little time to understand. Some people don’t find religion until they need it. How he was raised isn’t his fault. You like him,” she said.
“Mary Lou is a better choice for him. Another reason for him to stay away from me. I don’t need a weakness for demons to exploit,” I pointed out.
She pointed a finger at me. “They did that last night. Fallen angels still have powers. They knew how you felt before you did.”
“I don’t feel anything. I barely know this man.” I need more French toast or a mimosa.
Gran vanished.
“I hate when she does that.” But I got the point. Paul might be more than nothing. There was an attraction but we also fought. I’d just shot holes the size of the moon through his theory. Men’s egos loved that.
“You okay?” Ivy asked.
“Men are a headache.” I shrugged.
Ivy smiled. “You have to do your job. You can’t play flirty games when people are in danger. Especially with that last warning you got in heaven. Beware the day of the dead. That day is coming.”
“I know. I’m not sure what this group is trying to open. I hate when the messages are vague. But first, I need to talk to Mary Lou before my house is full of tension and arguing. The demons would love that,” I said.
After eating and one drink, I climbed upstairs. Knocking on Mary Lou’s door, I reminded myself that I’d invited her to stay. She was my friend and on my side.
She opened the door. “I don’t want to fight,” she said.
“Me either, but we need to talk,” I said.
“Come in and sit.” She closed the door behind me.
I sat in a push chair beside the vanity while Mary Lou sat at the vanity. It was a nice guest room. Gran had decorated things very high class and it still amazed me that this was my home and life.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you liked Paul that much. Or that way. You are surrounded by men who want to help you and take care of you,” she said.
“I don’t know what I think or feel about Paul. We’re doing the clinics together and it’s a lot of work. I like him but it might not go beyond friends. Nothing has happened. But you do sort of flirt with anything male around you.”
“It’s how I am,” she said.
“I know.” I rubbed my forehead. “I don’t want men taking care of me. You said I’m surrounded. But those men aren’t in this for me. It’s not about me. Greg was fighting this fight long before I came to New Orleans. Having him under the same roof is good for both of us. Gunnar, I hired him to help because Greg is off fighting demons on his own a lot. Ivy is busy with the club and sometimes I need an extra pair of hands. He gets paid for his work,” I pointed out.
“Right. And Matt,” she said.
“Matt is a cop. His job is get the bad guy. I can help with that. I’m a tool. I’m not helpless and need them to rescue me. It’s a team effort to get the bad guys or stop the demons. Even Paul, he’s fascinated by the mental states of the people attacking the dead. He’s obsessed with the weird parts but these potential patients are the priority.” I didn’t want her to think I had a bunch of men at my beck and call.
I sure as hell didn’t want to believe I needed these men around me. I couldn’t do it alone, but it wasn’t about men. It was the team.
She shrugged.
“I’m not interested in Matt. Or Greg. Gunnar is gay. Romance isn’t a factor,” I said.
She shot me a look. “It’s always a factor.”
“Fine. If you’re that interested in Paul, good luck. I have cannibals to find. But you’re still technically married. I know Lance has never been great to you—but maybe you should try being single. If you’re just trying to latch onto a male so you feel safe or good, that’s not good for you.” I cringed inwardly. I didn’t want to hurt her.
She scrunched her face. “I don’t have skills. I don’t have anything but my looks.”
“That’s not true. You have work that you can do. Learn the jobs. You’re not going to be homeless or friendless. It’s okay to take time and figure out who you are alone. Heal from that torture with Lance and decide what you want. Really want and work for it. It’s harder but you might be actually happy at the end,” I suggested.
She sighed. “You’re smart. And so independent. I’m jealous of that.”
“I’m jealous of your flirting skills but I’m not sure I could handle that sort of power or the attention that follows.” I laughed.
“You couldn’t.” She shook her head.
“Okay. Get ready for work. Brody is expecting you,” I reminded her.
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She groaned. “I like your hours better.”
“You wouldn’t if you knew how many nights of sleep are interrupted.” I left her room so she could get ready.
Hopefully, I’d made some sense. Discord in the house would only make more openings for the demons to exploit. I headed downstairs for another mimosa.
Matt met me on the stairs. “They struck again overnight. Flesh was taken. It matches your theory. Jewish recently buried. We need to get the media working for us on this one.”
I nodded. “Let me change.”
Chapter Fifteen
Another attack similar to the first one, complete with flesh removed, happened at another cemetery. I’d spent most of the day looking at the list Paul had pulled of people with death obsessions. It wasn’t official but at least I had pictures. Nothing triggered.
I hadn’t seen the faces of the group member yet but at least I’d done everything I could. The police made another statement asking for help. Increasing patrols.
The leads were few. The public outrage was high. Parents were afraid to let their kids out to enjoy the Halloween traditions like haunted houses. Cemetery tours were canceled.
Well, some.
Plenty of tours were continuing with a warning about cannibals.
The prices for those shot up.
It took forever for me to get to sleep between the questions and the spinning problems in my mind. Paul had texted that he was sorry for his overreaction. He was still adjusting and trying to understand. He’d heard about the additional grave attacks and offered help but didn’t want to bother me.
It was nice. Polite. Professional.
I seemed to bring that out in men. Not much else, which was fine. I had bigger problems. My dreams spun from death and flesh-eating people to my grandfather telling me I should be a nun when I was little. Then he’d get into heaven for sure.
Creepy and wrong. I wondered if all the older men in my family felt like that. Having a nun in the family? Was it the virgin forever thing? Or the holy thing?
But Catholic school was enough. I couldn’t fathom a convent.
My dreams twisted into a very weird Sister Act horror show with pounding bass music. The pounding grew louder.
