The Demon Trappers: Foretold (42 page)

Still troubled, he gestured with his uninjured arm for her to lay her head on his chest. It wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t care. He heard her sigh as he stroked her hair,
savouring that simple pleasure.

Sartael is dead. He’ll never hurt us again. And I killed him.

Beck couldn’t suppress the well-earned grin.

There was a shuffling in the doorway and he discovered four smiling faces watching them. One belonged to Jackson, his arm in a cast, then Riley’s friends Peter and Simi, and finally
Stewart himself. Eight thumbs shot upward in unison.

‘Thanks, guys,’ he said, overwhelmed.

There were congratulations, then the master cut in.

‘All right, the lot of ya, out! They need their privacy. We can celebrate later.’

The old guy understands.

The instant the front door closed, Riley raised her head, blinking her eyes repeatedly. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ she said, running her fingers through his hair.

‘We Georgia boys are . . . hard to kill.’ His mind flashed back to his mother. How she’d led him out of Hell and that she’d had to stay behind. ‘Sadie
helped.’

‘What?’

He shook his head. There was no way he could explain that.

‘Thank you for coming back to me,’ she murmured.

‘Wouldn’t have it any other way,’ he said.

Beck raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if somehow he could see Heaven.

You never listened to me before, but this time you did. I won’t ever forget that.

Then the tears he’d been holding back began to trickle down his face as he wept along with the woman he loved.

The next three days proved harder than Riley had expected. Though he was regaining his strength, Beck’s mood would veer from morose to jubilant and back into depression
in a fraction of a second. One minute he wanted to hold her, the next he wanted his space. That irrationality made for a few tense scenes.

Stewart insisted the patient’s behaviour was normal, but after the love of her life had snarled at her about the taste of the meal she’d lovingly made for him, Riley’s patience
snapped. She retreated and called in reinforcements.

The master took over, tactfully suggesting she catch up on her homework while he tried to manoeuvre the patient back on an even keel. Riley decamped from Beck’s house and left the grump
behind with few regrets.

Beck wasn’t in the mood for a social call, his nerves as brittle as a thin sheet of pond ice in the spring. He was on the couch now, tired of the bed, but that change of
location hadn’t helped his mood.

‘I don’t need you here,’ he grumbled, eyeing Stewart as the master eased himself into a chair.

‘Ya need ta talk about what’s goin’ on in yer head. Yer the kind who bottles things up. That’s not healthy.’

‘No reason to talk about it,’ Beck replied. How could he ever explain what had happened with his mother?

‘Come on, lad, tell me what ya saw while ya were ill.’

‘Just dreams,’ Beck said dismissively. ‘Nightmares.’

‘Of Hell, am I right?’

Beck cautiously straightened up, mindful of his sore shoulder. The sling only did so much to reduce the discomfort. ‘Why are you really here?’

A thoughtful smile appeared on his guest’s face. ‘I’m here to see that ya keep yer sanity after all ya’ve been through. It would be a damned waste to have ya go crazy
now.’

‘You tell me what happened.’
Why Sadie saved me.

‘Yer wound exposed ya ta the power of the Divine. Because Sartael was a Fallen, ya were sent ta Hell to pay the price for slayin’ an angel.’

‘But I didn’t stay there.’

‘Aye. So who showed ya the way out?’

Beck stared at the master in profound shock. ‘How did you know that?’

‘I think the best way ta answer that is with a wee story.’ Stewart eased back in his chair. ‘A couple decades back a master trapper killed a Geo-Fiend. He was feelin’
pretty damned proud of himself until a Fallen angel showed up. It was the Five’s demi-lord, ya see, and it was angry at losin’ such a powerful servant. The angel and the master fought,
and by the Grace of God this lad killed the Fallen, though he was badly injured.’

‘So this guy went to Hell too?’

‘Aye. He wandered in an endless maze of thorns, teeterin’ on the edge between life and death. When he cried out for help, one of the damned souls came ta him. It was an old friend
who’d gone down the wrong path many years before. That friend helped the trapper find his way out of the maze and back ta the light.’

My God.

‘It was . . . Sadie, my momma,’ Beck admitted. ‘She took my hand and showed me the way out. There was no way I could save her. She’s there until . . .’

‘God decides she isn’t.’

Beck searched the master’s face. ‘Why did she do that? She could have left me down there to burn with her.’

‘She may not have been able ta show ya love in this life, but once we cross over, we see things clearer. All the lies we wrap ourselves in are stripped away.’ Stewart paused.
‘Yer mother came through when it really counted. If for nothin’ more, remember her kindly for that.’

‘I will.’ Beck slowly pieced together the connections. ‘That leg wound of yers. It wasn’t from an Archfiend, was it?’ The master shook his head. ‘You killed
the angel, that’s how you know about Hell, about bein’ lost there.’

‘Aye.’

There was something more here, Beck could feel it. The final connection snapped in place.

‘To be a master demon trapper, the Guild says you have to kill or capture an Archfiend. To be a Grand Master . . . you have to do that with an angel?’ Beck asked.

‘There’s no capturin’ those things. Ya have to kill them,’ Stewart replied. ‘There are only a handful of us Grand Masters in the world.’ The Scotsman smiled
broadly. ‘Now there’s one more.’

Beck could barely comprehend what he’d just heard. ‘You mean . . . I . . .’

‘There will be extensive trainin’ and a lot of bookwork, but ya have what it takes ta be one of us. I knew ya had the talent ta become a damned fine master. But now, lad . . . yer
much more than that.’

‘A Grand Master,’ Beck whispered.

‘Now it’s not an easy life. We have duties that are . . . so very painful sometimes, but we do what we can ta maintain the balance between the dark and light. That will be yer job
too, if ya care ta join us.’

‘But . . .’ He had to come clean. ‘I can’t read and write that good,’ Beck admitted.

‘That’s somethin’ ya can learn. What’s important is that yer wise beyond yer years. Ya’ve seen death close up, ya’ve killed and know the toll it takes. Ya
know what true love is. That’s as much of the job as anythin’.’

‘A Grand Master,’ Beck repeated. Then he frowned. ‘How will this all happen?’

‘Once ya’ve made master here in the States, ya’ll go ta Scotland for a few months trainin’. Then every year after that ya’ll return for more education, sometimes
there, sometimes in other parts of the world.’

He’d have to leave Riley behind and . . . ‘How long would I be gone?’

‘I know where yer headed. Ya’ll not want ta be away from yer pretty lass for that long, so we’ll have her come visit ya as needed. I can tell ya, there’s nothin’
more romantic than a walk in the hills of my homeland, especially if ya have a certain question ya might want to ask.’

Beck’s eyes rose and he found himself smiling at the notion. ‘I might have one of those. Does Riley know any of this?’

‘Nay, but I’ll be tellin’ her soon enough. I believe she’ll be as proud of ya as I am.’

Beck shook his head in amazement. ‘I can’t believe it. This all happened because one crazy archangel decided he wanted to rule in Hell.’

‘That was a bit of it, but not the most important part,’ Stewart retorted. ‘This all happened because one poor and abused lad refused ta accept that was his lot in life. Ya
sought somethin’ better. Now ya’ll have it.’

While Stewart jousted with her grouchy boyfriend, Riley took refuge in paradise. Or at least the coffee shop. ‘Her’ booth was empty so she spread out her homework
and started working. Memories kept intruding, especially those that involved Ori. She found she missed him more than she’d anticipated.

Her eyes were still bugging her so she put in more drops and those seemed to help. Digging into both the hot chocolate and the homework, she found it hard to concentrate. How was Beck doing?
Would the master set him right?

She’d just finished her sociology assignment about the Maori when Stewart’s call came through.

‘Lass? Beck’s doin’ better. We got some things settled and now he knows the lay of the land. He said he’d call ya when he was ready ta talk.’

‘Oh good. He was
so
bitchy and I didn’t know what to do.’

‘There is one more thing . . .’

As she listened in increasing astonishment, Stewart explained exactly where Beck’s future lay, that her boyfriend was now qualified to join the ranks of the Grand Masters.

Riley’s mind reeled. ‘He knows this?’

‘Aye. He’s still tryin’ ta handle the news. I thought ya should know.’

‘Ohmigod. That’s like . . .
really
big.’

‘That it is. Beck will need yer help with the readin’ and the studyin’, but I have no doubt he’ll do just fine. He’s a smart lad, even if he claims not ta
be.’

‘This is so awesome.’
Beck has to be blown away.

‘As for yer situation, I chatted with Rome this mornin’,’ Stewart continued. ‘They’re comfortable with the way things are now. They’ve lifted yer restrictions
so ya can live wherever ya wish. They do recommend that ya don’t mess around with any Fallen in future.’

‘That I can live with.’

‘When things settle down, I’d like ta talk ta ya about compilin’ the history of Atlanta’s Demon Trappers. We don’t have a historian and it’s time we did. The
job would pay a small stipend, enough to help ya with some of yer expenses.’

Riley’s dad, the history teacher, would have jumped at that chance. ‘I’ll do it. Thank you, sir.’

‘It’s Angus. We know each other well enough ya should call me by my Christian name.’

‘Thanks, Angus. You rock. I mean that.’

It proved really hard not to call Beck and celebrate his incredible news, but she took Stewart’s advice and curbed her impatience. Her guy would call when he was
ready.

She’d moved on to her history homework with an occasional
ohmigod, I can’t believe it
moment thrown in, when Simon entered the coffee shop. When he saw her, he headed to the
booth.

‘Hey,’ she said, unsure of where they stood.

‘I’d like to talk. Is that OK?’ he said, more solemn than usual.

‘Sure.’ Riley closed the book in front of her, wondering what was on his mind.

‘Would you like some more hot chocolate?’

She nodded, if nothing more than to gain time to prepare for what was to come. He didn’t seem angry or hostile, so maybe this would be a good talk rather than one that they’d both
regret.

Riley watched as Simon waited at the counter to place their order. He appeared so much older now, though only a few months had passed since that night they’d first met at the Tabernacle.
Older, stronger, more scarred. She felt the same way.

Her ex-boyfriend slid into the booth after handing over her drink. When he didn’t speak right off, she savoured the chocolate curls on the top of the abundant whipped cream.

Finally he cleared his throat and asked about her eyes and they both agreed she looked as if she’d fallen asleep in a tanning bed. Then he asked about Beck and she let him know everything
was good there as well, without revealing her boyfriend’s latest news. That was his to announce.

The pleasantries over, Simon moved on to what was really on his mind. ‘I passed my journeyman’s exam. I heard this morning.’

‘That’s great, Simon. Congratulations,’ she said, meaning every word.

‘Yeah, it is.’

‘Ah, you don’t sound happy.’

‘It’s all changed now. It’s an accomplishment, but not like it once would have been.’ His slender fingers wrapped round the ceramic cup. ‘I . . . will be here for
another couple weeks and then I’m leaving Atlanta. I need to spend some time away. I need to get my head on right.’

‘Oh,’ Riley replied, caught off guard. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I want to visit some holy sites. Rome, for sure. Lourdes. I’ll go to Israel and then . . .’ He hesitated, though his eyes were alight now. ‘India. I want to talk to some
of their holy men. And Tibet, maybe. The monks might have some insights.’ He paused to take a sip of the coffee. ‘Ayden suggested I spend some time at a couple of stone circles while
I’m in Ireland.’

The old Simon would have never listened to the witch or been willing to go near places or people that didn’t share his faith. This was a huge step.

‘While you’re at it, spend some time with a rabbi or an imam,’ Riley suggested. ‘Maybe one of those folks will help put things into perspective for you. If I didn’t
have a reason to stay here, I’d join you.’

‘That reason is Beck, isn’t it?’ Simon asked, their eyes meeting now.

‘Yes. We’re in love. It’s . . . good.’