The Deception Dance (27 page)

“I know it.”

“Goody, I got it here so it would be convenient for you. Fly,
Little Bird, fly.”

I am on my scooter speeding out of the parking lot before I snap
closed my phone. I weave through the streets so fast the houses
beside me merge together and I reach the hotel in less than two
minutes.

Even at night the hotel looks open and airy; its appearance is so
opposite to everything I am feeling that I hesitate before I climb
off my scooter.

My heart accelerates faster and faster as I enter the hotel and pass
a vacant front desk to the curving dark wood stair beyond. At the top
of the stair I spot Chauncey’s room number.

I take a deep breath and raise my hand to knock on the door but
before I can bring my fist down the door swings open and Chauncey
sings in pleasure, “You came. Oh, you’ve made me so
happy. Please,” she says, stepping aside, “Come in.”

I try to slow my breathing as I step through the threshold and peer
around the room for my sister. The beds and walls are clean and
white; the whole room looks white except for a few pictures on the
wall and a couple wood furnishings. The roof slopes at a severe angle
on one side, white and trimmed with a light colored wood. At first I
see no sign of Linnie, but I hear a muffled cry and run to find her
on the floor at the side of one of the two twin beds. She is tied and
gagged, I fight with her ropes but the demon plops on the bed beside
me and scolds, “uh, uh, uh, that’s not how you play,
Raven. This is my game, my rules. Now step away from your sister.”

After I whisper, “I’m going to get you out of this,”
I step away, reluctantly.

“Oh, how sweet, I could just regurgitate. You humans are so
easy to have fun with.” She shakes her pretty blonde hair. She
lies on her stomach with her face propped up by her hands and her
elbows pressing into the comforter. The demon seems to think that
acting like a bubbly fifties house-wife is the best way to puppet
Chauncey’s body, the effect is nothing like sultry (moody)
Chauncey had been in her life. “I got an interesting call a few
minutes ago, from a friend of mine.” She wiggles her eyebrows
at me, “It seems Andras has found another body already.”
As she smiles at me, her teeth elongate into long ivory spikes. She
reminds me of one of those deep sea fish, her fangs are too big to
fit in her mouth. “You must be so excited!” Her voice
whistles through her now protruding jaw.

She sits up and when she speaks her hissy voice sounds irritated, “I
was there when he announced that I can’t bleed or kill you,
well fiddlesticks.” Then she snarls. “I was pretty
unhappy to hear that I can’t buy another soul while your heart
beats.” Her eyes shine red and I take an involuntary step back.

Her pupils smolder back to black and the tension in her shoulders
seems to ease. She reaches down and pets Linnie’s head like a
dog. “But, thank Satan, I already took the souls I need before
I showed up for his little exposé. In fact, I had this body
for a full hour before the demon-conference. This little lady...”
she says, then coos at Linnie while stroking her hair, “Was
here tied up, waiting for me, when I got back.”

Linnie whimpers and shakes, she’s curled into a fetal position.

“I had so much fun!” Demon Chauncey snaps her attention
to me, bending her neck in an inhuman way. “You see, I work
fast, the hour between my, let us call it: possession, and Andras’s
orders was more than enough time to send a soul-bound to your
Victorian-style two story in Arcata. Did you know that your house is
on hallowed ground?”

She looks at me, as if for a response, but I can’t even seem to
shrug my shoulders.

She continues, “Well, it is. But that does not keep out the
soul-bound. It was easy as pie, all the soul-bound needed to do was
put a knife to your father’s throat and a phone to his ear and
your father...” Her lips thin as she bares even more of her
sharp teeth. “Barry Smith, by the way a charming man, was
willing to trade his soul for Linnie’s life.” Her fingers
muss Linnie’s already tousled hair. “And she thought he
preferred
you
. Linnie was willing to do the same.” She
pushes Linnie over, toppling her to the side and giving me an
unobstructed view of her inner arm.

A spirally twisty knot of lines is tattooed on Linnie’s wrist
exactly where Chauncey’s mark had been.

Demon Chauncey leaves Linnie lying on her side and continues, “Pity
for the soul-bound, that once they promised their souls to me, I
don’t even care how long their lives are. But I won’t end
your father or your sister’s life...” Chauncey pulls
Linnie’s face from the floor by her hair, “... she might
want her life to end when I’m done with her….”

My gaze meets Linnie’s sideward face for the first time to see
her mouth and eyes are masked with thick tape. She shakes her head at
me as much as she can with the demon’s hand in her messy brown
hair.

“I’ll do it,” I breathe.

As if perplexed, Chauncey says, “Excuse me?”

“I’ll trade my soul, that’s what you want, isn’t
it?”

“Your soul?” She laughs, shakes her head and stands.
“
Your
soul? Satan doesn’t want to buy
your
soul for Hell.” She shakes her finger at me as if I’m a
naughty child. “He wants your father’s soul, and your
sisters, your Uncle Freddy’s and your best friend Zack’s.
He even wants, what is her name…?” she taps her chin,
“…your dorky friend with the glasses? Oh yes, Mary
Deegan’s soul. He wants everyone you have ever cared for, and
everyone you will ever care for’s
soul
. And if not their
souls, their lives will do.” She leans in close to me, making
me shudder. For an instant, I’m sure she’s going to bite
me; but, she leans away.

“I get your point,” I say, speaking loudly to hide that
my voice is shaking, “What can I trade so my friends and
family’s souls and lives will be safe?”

She plops back on the bed. “What a charming idea, what can you
trade?” She wiggles her head and shoulders as if pondering.

I know it’s all for show, she invited me over to
play
didn’t she? This is all part of her
game
.

“So, your sweetie Andras: the
oh,
so, suave
, will
be here by dawn. He’s flying right now.” She moves her
fingers in the air like a bird. “Look at your watch. The sun
rises at about five a.m., give or take a few minutes, you have until
then; in these next three hours you must drink this.” She opens
the drawer of the small desk between the beds and tosses me a gold
vile.

I miss it and it makes a tinkling sound on the hard wood.

She points to it, “You’re going to need that.”

I lean over and pick up the vile. It looks as if the vile is truly
made out of gold, and I can’t see whatever is inside.

“Satan will trade your life, or more-over your
death,
for all previous claims on your sister and father’s souls to be
relinquished, no more, no less.”

“And they’re not going to be harmed in any way, by
demons, ever?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes with obvious disappointment. “Well fine,
no...” she glances down at Linnie, “...
more
physical harm done to them.”

“And, I’ll go to heaven?”

She grinds her sharp teeth together, “If you commit suicide
you’ll go to purgatory. Especially with your...” she
pauses glancing down at the blood stain on my dress, “...spotty
record.”

I stare at the vile in my hand. Purgatory again...

“Oh, you’re so pitiful!” she exclaims. She crosses
her legs and smoothes out the material covering her legs. “Okay,
here’s the deal: if you walk to a church, walk...” she
reiterates, “and drink the poison, before the poison closes
your throat you can confess your sins to a priest and be absolved.”
She rolls her eyes again, “If you really care
that
much.”

Linnie shakes her head furiously while she makes muffled sounds
through the tape, drawing Chauncey’s attention.

Knowing that I have to draw Chauncey’s attention back to me and
not give her the opportunity to ‘further motivate’ me, I
say, “Yeah, I’ll do it.” I close my eyes and grip
my fingers around the vile.

“Of course you will, Birdie. That’s what you humans do;
martyr yourselves for your cherished ones,” She laughs. “How
noble. Now, fly away.”

I prompt, “The church?”

“Do you really need me to spell everything out for you?”
But she gives me directions. The moment she stops, Linnie starts
screaming. The sound is muffled by the tape, but I can tell she’s
screaming.

“Stop, Linnie,” I call, desperately, “Shut up!”

“Hurry, hurry,” Chauncey Demon says while smiling down at
my sister, “You have until dawn.”

The church is only a short walk away, but I wander the lamp lit
streets for over an hour.

I call my dad but he doesn’t answer.

I think of calling my friends from home, but I haven’t talked
to them since I left and what would I say? ‘Hi. I’m about
to kill myself. Love you.’ I don’t think so. I never sent
the postcards I promised.

I didn’t even say goodbye to Linnie, or that I loved her, or
that, all in all, dying to keep her soul safe isn’t that bad of
a deal for me…I had said nothing, just walked out of the hotel
room.

I stand in front of the light wood doors at the base of the large
rectangular tower of the church. I imagine the church is beautiful
during the day but cloaked in night, it looks like a giant dark
ravenous presence looming above me.

Under the archway opening, I make my last phone call to Nicholas’s
cell phone. He picks up on the first ring.

“Raven? Where are you? What happened?” His voice comes
out in a gush.

My voice is surprisingly steady when I say, “Hello, Nicholas.
Wow, this has been a very eventful night, huh? I need to, um, ask you
a favor.”

“What are you saying? Where are you? Where is Linnie?”

“I made a deal...”

“No!”

“Wait, listen. Not for my soul. I made a deal, I traded my life
for my father and Linnie’s souls and safety.” My
steadiness falters and I inhale to regain my calm.

When he speaks, his voice sounds low and serious, “Where are
you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I need you to
make sure that the demon, who possessed Chauncey, releases Linnie and
my father. She’s in a room at the Hotell Trädgård
Visa.”

“Do not do whatever you are doing,” he says, still
serious. “Every deal struck with a demon has consequences you
can’t see. She’s tricking you in some way, I promise you
that...”

“I don’t have a choice!” My calm breaks with a dry
sob. “Please.”

“No. We’ll find another way," he demands. "Where
are you?”

“I’m going to confess my sins, I’ll go to heaven;
and one day, we’ll see each other again. It’ll be okay, I
promise.”

“Don’t hang up. Where are you?” He yells, “At
a church?” He says some word that sounds a little like,
“Himmels-far-da-sky-can?”

I look back at the structure around me, “I don’t...”

The doors open. “Child?” A man asks, he wears the shroud
of a priest. “What are you doing here? Do you need help?”

I snap my phone shut. “Yes,” I say, “I need your
help.”

He doesn’t complain about the time, he stands aside and
gestures for me to come in. His hair looks disheveled, as if perhaps
I woke him. He looks middle-aged, fifties or sixties, and tired; his
skin is wind-worn like an old sailor. The priest limps as he wanders
into the main part of the cathedral.

The main chamber is only lit by the light escaping through the open
door to the foyer. Fifty, maybe more, pews cross a long apse that
ends in a rounded altar. It is hard to see the altar at the end but I
can just make out brick steps leading up to a stage adorned by a
decorative gold altar piece.

The priest sits in one of the pews and motions for me to take a seat.
“What can I do for you, child?”

I sit in the pew ahead of his and turn to him. “I need to
confess my sins,” I am starting to hyperventilate again.

He doesn’t even blink at my odd request at this hour. “Of
course I can do this for you,” He nods demurely.

My hand shakes as I pull the flask from my pocket and uncork it.

I expect to be questioned, but the priest does not ask what I’m
doing, he just watches me.

I hold the gold vile to my lips and stare at the gold shining from
the dark altar. I close my eyes, pour the liquid into my mouth and
swallow.

I’m not sure if I see right, because the space is so dimly lit,
but the priest seems to grin.

I inhale and recite the words I’ve heard in so many movies,
“Forgive me father for I have sinned, it has been...” I
pause. “I’ve never confessed before.” Suddenly, my
internal organs feel like they are on fire. I try to stand and fall
out of the pew into the aisle.

The priest does not move to help me; he just pivots to look down at
me on the floor.

I gasp out, “I... I lied to my father, a couple times. I broke
someone’s nose. I almost had premarital sex…with a
demon.”

The priest makes a sound, it almost sounds like laughter. I look at
him: he’s not laughing, his expression is serene.

I breathe in fire with every inhalation. I know my throat is closing
up, just as Demon-Chauncey said it would.

I’m desperate to get my next words out, “I’m
killing myself. I need to be forgiven...”

“I don’t think so,” The priest replies.

My eyes burn as I gaze up at him; the air is filled with invisible
embers that hit my eye and singe into my retinas.

He gazes down at me with his cheeks melting around his smile. “You
don’t deserve forgiveness,” he says while laughing.

“I thought that… everyone deserves...” The words
burn my mouth and I can’t finish my sentence.

Shadows creep around the space. I writhe on the hot coals beneath me.
The priest’s laughter echoes in my head.