whiskey witches 01 - whisky witches (22 page)

“Nothing major,” the doctor said, putting his bag back together. Dexx helped him over the salt line. “A few cuts. Nothing too deep or spectacular. What a sick bastard.”

“If you only knew,” Dexx said under his breath.

“If you need anything,” the doctor said to Brian on his way out.

“Will do, Doc. Drive safe. Say hi to your wife for me.”

The doctor glanced at Paige one last time before leaving. “Yeah.”

That left a very silent room filled with people more than a little on edge.

“So are we going to exorcise this thing, or what?” Alma asked.

Dexx shook his head, biting his lips. “We need help on this one. You, sure, but maybe more. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Her worried gaze settled on Paige.

Dexx stepped into the salt circle and peeled away the bandage on Paige’s chest. “This.”

“I can’t see it.” Paige pulled her chin down. “The bandage is in the way.”

“It’s fine.”

“Obviously not. I need to see.”

Alma craned her neck to peer over his shoulder without entering the ethereal cage. A startled breath whistled through her teeth. “Damn it.”

“Grandma. Will someone tell me what’s wrong?”

“You mean besides the demon residing inside your head?” Dexx pressed the medical tape back onto her skin.

Alma hit his arm lightly. “Hush your mouth, cub.”

“I can’t believe this is really happening.” Brian remained at the door, almost as if coming closer might contaminate him. “Exorcism. For real?”

“’Fraid so. Alma, we need a priest.”

She widened her hands. “Father Gregory is in Dallas.”

“Too far way.”

“There is a priest.” Brian took a small step into the room. “At a neighboring parish. I’m guessing he would probably know about exorcisms and the like.”

Dexx frowned at Alma. “Using a different priest is a bad idea. They have to petition the Church. We don’t have time for that.”

“We’re in Louisiana.” Brian raised his eyebrows, his expression tight. “There’s a lot that goes on here the Church doesn’t know about.”

“Point. Before we truss her up like a goose, can you get your priest on the phone and find out if he’s any good at this kind of thing?”

Brian disappeared down the hall.

Alma pressed her fingers against her eyelid. “Ah, sweetie.”

Paige’s head wobbled. “I know who the third person is.”

“Way to hold the punchline, Pea.” Dexx motioned for her to hurry up. “Who is it?”

“Sven. Seven Tails Sven.”

“A demon. A lot of good a court of law’s going to do them.” That answered so many of his questions. A demon, especially that one judging by the relief of Paige and Balnore when they realized the trapped demon was Lucius, was bad news. The symbols. The sacrifices. The brands. Everything rang with clarity.

Alma chucked her chin in agreement. “How did the demon get in?”

“Drug, mostly. I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.” Paige let out a sobbing breath. “I was so scared. And then he used my memories against me.”

No one asked what memories. Everyone knew.

Alma glared at him.

Paige looked away.

Dexx ground his teeth. This was a mess.

And now he had to somehow fix it.

Before the demon did it for him.

F
ORTY-ONE MILES DOWN
the road in the town of Denham Springs hid Brian’s priest. Dexx had an hour to kill with no time to lose. Paige slept in the back seat. Alma guarded over her. Which left Dexx all alone in the front seat. Back to normal.

The highway stretched in front of him like a licorice whip, no lights to brighten the way, no cars to help pass the time. Just him and Jackie and a really long road of pitch black forever.

He gnawed on his thumbnail. Jackie flew smoothly over the pavement. They were in deep trouble. He knew that. He just didn’t know how to get them out.

He threw back his head in frustration, resting it against the seat as he drummed a beat on the steering wheel. No music. He didn’t want to wake up Paige. One, because she needed the sleep. Two, because he didn’t know who would wake up first, her or the demon.

He had to send the thing back. No doubt about it. But what about the consequences? What about Paige? If it came down to sending the demon back, or keeping Paige alive, which would he choose? He knew which one it had to be. As soon as they showed their ugly asses, he revoked their visas. No questions. No talking. No playing. Just “send me a postcard from Hell and enjoy the trip.” Quick. Easy. Simple.

He checked his mirror, watching Alma’s weary form in the darkness.

Paige made it not easy. He didn’t know if he could do what had to be done. He cared about her, even knowing how stupid it was. With his job, the traveling, the danger. He couldn’t promise her he’d be home every night. That was the normal side of things.

Her gift. He’d known about years ago. Hell, before he’d met her, he’d been sure she was the devil. She made demons, something so simple, more complicated; gray, not black and white. And now? Now that she was an open door to the demons she summoned? What was he supposed to do? With her? For her? What could he do?

He had no idea.

The world went from black, to grays, to hesitant color as the sun rose in his review mirror. He had to come up with a plan. That’s all he knew.

But when he parked in front of the church, he hadn’t gotten any closer to a real plan.

As the car purred in idle, he leaned down to look at the church through the passenger window. “I sure hope this works. You know, having a priest do it instead someone like me.”

Alma squinted through the bright morning sunlight. “She’ll probably be waking up soon.” She pushed the seat in front of her forward, and dragged her aging body out of the car with a groan. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Dexx followed her lead. He popped the trunk, handing Alma his bag of goodies before retrieving Paige’s unconscious body out of his backseat. His shoulder screamed at him.

Strike that. It moaned. Loudly. In protest.

The main door to the church opened enough to show a man with brown hair.

Alma turned to Dexx, her white hair a frazzled mess, her clothes rumpled. Dexx hoped he didn’t look that bad, but he wasn’t holding any bets on that one. “Dexx, this is Andy. He will be assisting Father Staats.”

“He, um, he likes to be called Reece.” Andy wrung his hands, his expression anxious.

“Great.” Dexx flashed a pained smile. Andy was the epitome of green-behind-the-ears. His jeans were nice, and his button up shirt was pressed. Dexx raised his eyebrows instead of offering a hand. He hitched Paige a little higher, glancing down at her expectantly.

“Is this going to be, like, a real exorcism?” Andy rubbed his ear. “Like, really?”

Alma crossed her arms over her chest.

Dexx just stood there, Paige getting heavier with every “uh” and “like.

“Oh, right.” Andy scratched his head. “Right, right, right. Gotcha. Yeah. Let’s, uh.” He held the large wooden doors open. “Yeah, um, get her inside.”

Dexx carried Paige through the threshold, into the large interior of the room of worship. His eyes crept higher and higher until they could go no further. The pale morning sun filtered through the small windows, shedding little light into the massive room. Pictures in gold frames of various saints lined the walls. He didn’t know his saints. He didn’t know his angels. He knew the Bible existed, sure. Had he ever read it? Hell, no. His mother had made him go to church occasionally. Had he paid attention? Again, Hell no.

Andy brushed by him with a smile. “It isn’t much, but we bring the faith to the people.”

Dexx gave the other man the tough-guy nod as he followed.

Andy led him up the aisle toward the dais where the pulpit stood large and intimidating, presiding over of the entire room. “Not all churches have to be impressive.”

Then why did it seem they all tried to intimidate?

“Watch out.” Andy pointed behind him. “Step up. They’re a little skinny. Don’t slip. Yeah. Step up. One more time. You got it.” He turned to lead the way through a door on the back wall between the choir section and the organ.

Doors lined the hallway, some open, some closed. It looked like a very inviting place for a church.

Andy disappeared down a flight of stairs.

Dexx eyed them. “The basement. How fitting. Could we get any more cliché, please? Just once, I’d like to fight a big baddy in the daylight or in an attic or something. Why is it always in the bowels of the earth?”

“Stop complaining,” Alma said, pushing past him.

Dexx flattened his lips in resignation, resituated Paige’s dead weight in his arms again, and followed the old woman down the stairs to a large, open room. There were a few bare shelves in the far corner, and a table under a window so small, a child would have a hard time fitting through. An older man stood under the bare fluorescent light wearing a priest’s collared shirt and jeans.

“Father Staats, I assume,” Alma said, offering the older man her hand.

“Please,” he said with a genuine smile, taking Alma’s hand. “Call me Reece.”

“Alma.” She gave the man a worn, fragile smile of her own. “This is Dexx and Paige.”

Dexx smiled at them both. Reece looked like a sun-weathered, solid man, someone who knew his faith and what he was doing. He could respect that. “Where should I put her?”

“Oh, right there will be fine for now,” Reece said, pointing to a wooden chair Dexx hadn’t noticed. The priest sighed tiredly. “We’ll have to tie her up, I’m afraid, for her own safety as well as ours.”

“Yeah, well, I got a few tricks in my bag.” Dexx propped Paige’s unconscious body in the chair. Holding her in a semi-sitting position, he searched for Andy. “Could use some help here.”

Andy held a piece of rope like a frightened rabbit.

Dexx stood. “You tie her up and I’m going to gather a few things.”

“Son,” Reece said with the tranquilly peaceful smile that only priests or the divinely touched seemed to have. He grasped Dexx’s shoulders. “Leave this to me and my apprentice. We are properly taught to handle this.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me, Padre, but I like having a back-up plan.” Dexx shook off the priest’s hands. “No offense. I’m sure your exorcism will work out ducky and all, but I gotta have my goodies.” He walked to the table and started rummaging through his bag.

Father Staats—Reece—pulled out his Bible, preparing.

“All right,” Dexx said, grabbing his notebook and chalk. “I’m going to set down a few safe-guards and then you boys can get to work.”

Alma found a hard folding chair and sat down. “This could take a while.”

Dexx dropped to the ground, drawing the demon trap on the floor.

“Do you really think that will work?” Reece asked as if he were speaking to a small child. “It’s a bit like keeping the light on to keep the boogey man away, don’t you think?”

“Well, pardon me for needing the night light. I’ve met the damned thing.”

Reece took in a deep breath. “All right. Let’s begin.”

“W
HEN ANDY AND
I start, I don’t want either of you to talk. You don’t enter into conversation with the demon. You don’t challenge it or enrage it. You don’t interrupt us. You let us do our work. We don’t need any . . .” He gestured with his hand at Dexx. “ . . . outside influences. We’re well practiced and this rite has been in place for hundreds of years.”

Andy wasn’t.

“It’s a holy ritual and should only be performed by trained people.”

Dexx crossed his arms over his chest. He had a hard time respecting the church for this reason. Well, others, too. He honestly thought he was the only person qualified to send a demon home? Then again, they had opted not to use any of Dexx’s exorcisms because the victims usually ended up on a shady side of dead, so . . . yeah.

Reece met Dexx’s gaze and held it. “I don’t doubt your experience, son, but you do not have the invocation necessary in order to strike down someone so vile.”

“I’ll jump in to help if needed.” Dexx dropped his leather-bound notebook on the table. “I might not be holy or anything, but I know how to lay one of these things down. Okeydokey?”