I glanced over at the parents, who hadn’t said word one to me. They couldn’t even bear to look at me. Can’t say I blamed them. I wished I’d worn a conservative business suit after all. I don’t think my jeans and sweater gave them great confidence in my competence. But the worst thing I could do now was make them wait and worry any longer, so I settled my shoulder bag on the floor and slipped out of my full-length leather coat. I glanced around for somewhere to put it, but there wasn’t anywhere, and Jenkins didn’t offer to take it for me. He was being juvenile, but then I’d insulted his facility more than once. I’d probably have been juvenile in his shoes, too.
I laid my coat carefully on the floor, which was spotless white tile anyway, then unzipped my bag. A muffled sob from Mrs. Walker made my shoulders hunch. There were only three times in my career when I’d faced a demon I couldn’t cast out. But none of those three had been in execution states, and none had been inhabiting adorable little girls. If I failed, this was going to suck on so many levels…
The execution chamber was so spare and sterile there was nowhere to put my candles except on the floor. I could have asked Jenkins to get me a couple of tables, but it didn’t matter where the candles were, and I was betting all of us wanted to get on with it.
Every exorcist has a ritual he or she performs to get into the trance state. Some are really elaborate, with chants and special clothing and incense—
the works. Mine is disarmingly simple. I place vanilla-scented candles all around the room, then turn off all the lights. Then I stand over the demonpossessed body with my hands about six inches above it and just close my eyes.Usually I’m already starting to slip into the trance after my first deep breath. Today I was having a harder time. Jenkins had taken to fidgeting with his ID badge. The noise was slight, but annoying. And I could hear 6 / 226
Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
Mrs. Walker’s persistent sniffles. I imagined the table sliding into the oven with little Lisa Walker on it. I imagined hearing her screams. I took another deep, vanilla-scented breath and reminded myself that, in these enlightened times, they’d anesthetize her before sliding her into the oven—there would be no screams. But that didn’t make the image any more bearable.
The pressure was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and something akin to panic stirred.
Then Lisa Walker spoke.
“What’s happening?” she asked in a quivering little-girl voice. “Mommy?”
It broke what little concentration I had, and my eyes popped open. I met the gaze of a pair of redrimmed eyes of cornflower blue. So innocentlooking. But her words and her voice were so patently pathetic, so manipulative, that they gave me pause. So I watched closely, and something stirred behind those eyes. Something not so innocent. And I knew that they were right, that there was a demon inside this little girl. A demon who had no qualms about using the body of a child like a disposable plastic cup. When it found a more suitable host, it would slither out of her body, not caring that it might leave her dead or brain-damaged. I gave the demon a nasty smile. “Fatal error,” I told it in a low whisper that I hoped to God the parents didn’t hear. “You should have kept your mouth shut.”
The Cupid’s bow mouth widened. I closed my eyes. And the trance took me immediately, fueled by my anger. Distantly, I was aware of that littlegirl voice making pathetic noises, pleading with me and with its mommy, but I was too far gone to hear the words.
In my trance, I see with my otherworldly eyes. Everything looks different. Simpler. I can’t see things. All I see are the living, and I see them as patches of primary colors. People show up as blue in my otherworldly vision. Jenkins was a dark, solid blue, like a person at rest. If he felt any strong emotions about this whole procedure, I couldn’t sense it. The parents, on the other hand, were a mess, their auras roiling with every shade of blue imaginable.
But on the table under my hands, the aura glowed blood red. A demon aura, so overwhelming there was no sign of human blue beneath it. The aura squirmed, and I realized that the body was struggling against the restraints. 7 / 226
Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
The demon saw its destruction coming and was making a last-ditch effort to escape. I hoped they hadn’t gotten squeamish when they’d secured the restraints. The supernatural strength of some demons is enough to bend steel, but even an inexperienced staff would know that. I heard the distinctive sound of groaning metal. Alarm trickled down my back. This thing was strong. And desperate. Behind me, someone cried out. The yellow tint of fear blended with the blue of their auras to make the humans look almost green.
Just like everyone has their own ritual to get into the trance, everyone has their own mental image they use as a metaphor for casting out a demon. Mine is wind.
I imagined a gust of hurricane-force wind hitting that red aura. If it had been your average, run-of-the-mill demon, that one blast would have been enough. But this fucker was tough. The aura didn’t waver, and I heard an echo of laughter ringing in my ears.
There were more cries of distress from the humans, and again metal groaned as the demon struggled. My heart pounded in my throat, and fear almost stole my concentration.
None of the three demons I’d failed to exorcize had come close to escaping, thankfully. I may be the scourge of demon-kind, but I do not want to be trapped in a room with a loose, angry demon in need of a new host.
The fear radiating from Jenkins and the Walkers pounded against my concentration, worse than my own fear, because there were three of them feeding one another’s panic. I prayed Jenkins wouldn’t do anything really stupid, like open the door to take himself out of harm’s way. As soon as I thought it, though, it happened. My concentration snapped completely, and I was out of the trance in time to see Jenkins shove the Walkers out the open door before he dove out himself. At least he had the good sense to swing the door shut behind him. I really didn’t want to see what would happen if the demon got loose in the containment center halls with all those inexperienced armed guards wandering around.
Of course, I really didn’t want to be trapped alone in a room with a powerful, pissed-off demon, either.
I looked at the table, and my heart stuttered at what I saw. 8 / 226
Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
Steel restraints bolted to the table held Lisa’s thin arms and legs down, and there was another steel restraint around her waist. She’d pulled so hard on those restraints that the table had buckled beneath them, though so far she hadn’t managed to break free. Blood poured from her wrists and ankles—the demon didn’t much care what happened to this poor little body. It just wanted out. It pulled Lisa’s lips back in a feral snarl. The metal groaned again.
Shit.
I drew in a deep, quavering breath and forced myself to close my eyes. If I gave it enough time, this thing was going to free itself. And I was going to become an unwilling host to an illegal demon myself. No pressure.
Sweat trickled down the small of my back. I tried to calm myself. My life depended on it.
I slipped back into the trance more easily than I’d expected. Amazing what desperation will do for you. Once again, I hit that demon aura with a blast of wind. It wavered for a moment, then settled firmly back in place. The metal didn’t groan now so much as scream. The temptation to open my eyes and see what progress the thing was making was almost unbearable, but I resisted.
A small, delicate hand clapped onto my arm with a bone-crushing grip. But her hand was over my sweater, no skin-to-skin contact. I stifled a scream and sent another blast of wind at the aura. Somehow I managed to stay entranced, even with a demon squeezing my arm so brutally I’d wear bruises for days even if it didn’t break anything. My breath burned in and out of my lungs and my heart slammed against my chest. I was so scared I could taste it, but if I let the fear win, I was demon-chow.
I gathered my power into me, concentrating on drawing every ounce of my strength into my center for one last try. There was another scream of tortured metal, and a second small hand grabbed me. I almost panicked and let my next blast loose at that moment, but I knew I had only one more chance. If I didn’t throw enough power against the demon, I was toast. So I fought my instincts and held myself together a few seconds more.
The demon’s fingers tore through the fabric of my sweater, and that 9 / 226
Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
little demonic hand pressed against the skin of my forearm. I screamed louder than I’d ever screamed in my life, overwhelmed by terror, horror, revulsion. My worst nightmare come true. A demon forcing itself into my body, taking me over, destroying everything I was without actually killing me…
I shoved my gathered power at it, knowing it was already too late—
demons can transfer from one host to another instantly. The millisecond it touched me, I was gone.
Except, I wasn’t.
That red, red aura crept up my arm from the demon’s hand, and then withdrew, half a heartbeat before my power hit it. I’d thrown everything I had into that blast. The aura shattered into a million tiny pinpricks of color; then it was gone. I opened my eyes, hardly believing my good fortune, hardly believing I was still myself.
I wobbled on my feet. The floor bucked under me. I felt myself falling in slow motion but couldn’t even get my hands under me to cushion the fall. My head hit that cold tile floor, and I was out. 10 / 226
Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
I woke up staring at a white panel ceiling. My head ached like a son of a bitch. My arm throbbed where the demon had squeezed it. And I was so weak it tired me out to breathe.
I blinked a couple of times, happy to be alive and myself, but wishing I didn’t feel like I’d been run over by a truck. My body groaned in protest when I pushed myself up into a sitting position. I was still in the containment room, sitting on the white tile floor. But the room was completely empty. My candles were gone, as was my bag, my coat, Lisa Walker, the now-ruined table. Even the bench the parents had been sitting on was gone.
What the hell…?
I pushed to my feet, wobbly and woozy. My stomach turned over, and I almost lost my lunch. I clutched my belly and felt something that shouldn’t have been there. When the nausea passed, I lifted my sweater to find myself equipped with a stun belt.
And I suddenly knew what had happened.
I glanced up at the ceiling, and, sure enough, spotted a surveillance camera. Somebody had watched my little performance, had seen Lisa Walker touch me. Which explained my lovely new fashion accessory. Someone thought I was possessed.
About the only thing that has any effect on a rampaging demon is electricity, which messes with their ability to control the body. I supposed trying to take the belt off would be a very bad idea. This was turning out to be just a joy of a day.
“Hello?” I yelled. “Can anyone hear me?” And does anyone care?
No one answered, so I tried again. “Hello out there! I’m not possessed. I cast the demon out. You can let me out of here now.”
Still no answer. Can’t say as I was shocked. After what they’d witnessed, the staff here was bound to be paranoid. They were going to treat me with the same caution they might treat Satan himself.
“Can you at least tell me how Lisa’s doing?”
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Jenna Black, The Devil Inside (2007)
Morgan Kingsley #1
A microphone clicked on. “She’s alive,” a disembodied voice told me. Jenkins, I think, though the voice sounded tinny over the speaker.
“How badly is she hurt?” Human bodies just aren’t made for ripping themselves free of steel restraints. If I hadn’t felt those little hands digging into my flesh, I’d have thought the arms would give before the steel. Another click. “She’ll recover. Physically, at least.”
Well, shit. That meant her mind was gone. Not that I hadn’t expected it, but it still sucked. There was a slim chance that someday her mind would come back. Most likely, she’d be a vegetable for the rest of her life. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I had a feeling Jenkins would take that as some kind of confession. Like I was harboring a demon with a guilty conscience.
“I’m really not possessed, you know,” I said.
“We saw the demon touch you.”
“Yeah, and I felt it touch me. But it didn’t take me. Maybe I didn’t taste good.” I couldn’t imagine why the demon would choose not to transfer to me when I was its only chance of escape, but it hadn’t.
“Was that supposed to be a joke, Ms. Kingsley?” The speaker might be tinny, but the disapproval came through just fine. I glared up at the camera. I had plenty of disapproval to go around.
“Was it supposed to be a joke when you locked me in here with a demon that was obviously not as contained as you claimed?” I hadn’t had time to get really angry about this yet, but give me a few minutes and I’d be pitching a world-class fit. “You’ve got a stun belt on me. Why didn’t you have one on it?” I knew the answer to that: they’d believed she couldn’t break free of the restraints. Hell, I hadn’t believed it, either, or I’d have complained the minute I stepped into the room.
“It was an unfortunate oversight,” Jenkins said in his best bureaucratese. It didn’t improve my attitude.
“And thanks for helping me out when you saw I was in trouble,” I snarled. He lost his good-little-bureaucrat voice and suddenly sounded miserable.
“I’m very sorry, Ms. Kingsley. I had to get the civilians out of the room.”
Yeah, and you just had to follow them out while you were at it. I kept my mouth shut. Maybe because in my gut I thought he’d done the right thing. Only a moron would try to take on a demon one-on-one. Jenkins was a bureaucrat, not a foot soldier. He’d probably left the room to 12 / 226