Valerie replied. "I know it looks like a seizure, but it's just an after reaction to the possession. It won't hurt him. In fact, he'll probably pass out when it stops, and that would be a blessing."
"I almost can't believe it really happened," Carla said, reaching down to gather up Jeremy in her arms. "But what else could explain his face burning for no reason like that?"
"I'm so very sorry that happened. It's rare, but it is a risk," Valerie answered. Her voice was weary, her innate perkiness wrung out of her.
Bree knew she should be the one apologizing. She opened her mouth to say so, but nothing came out. Her brain didn't seem to be working. She felt like her head was packed tight in a box full of cotton balls.
"Remember that it was very likely the demon would have killed him if we hadn't forced it out," Father Anselm said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"I know, I know," Carla replied, working her arms under the boy's body. She leaned back on her heels and tried to get to her feet with Jeremy in her arms, but she couldn't manage it. Father Anselm stood up and got an arm around her, helping her up. "I can take him out to the car for you," he offered.
"No, I want to hold him," Carla said softly. She turned to face Valerie and said, "Thank you so much for what you did. I can see this was dangerous for both you and Bree. Thank you as well, Bree. I hope you're okay?"
Bree could only nod. She couldn't bear to meet Carla's eyes, to see the ridiculous kindness that would forgive her for this. Carla turned and left, and Father Anselm followed close behind.
Valerie squatted down in front of Bree once the others had gone. "What happened there?" she asked. It was clear she was trying to sound neutral, but a tone of accusation tinged her voice.
Bree licked her dry lips and forced herself to respond. "I had a flashback. My husband was burned to death by a demon. I really thought the flashbacks were over. I hadn't had one for six months."
"You look really drained. I should probably drive you home."
Bree shook her head. "I'll be okay in a minute." She maneuvered herself until she was sitting cross-legged on the cold floor. "Just let me rest here for a bit."
Valerie nodded and began cleaning up both hers and Bree's supplies. Miraculously, Bree's bottles of salt and holy water had survived intact. Valerie set them in front of her, along with Bree's bible. She disappeared up the aisle, then came back with both their coats, her messenger bag and Bree's black daypack. After she had packed both their supplies away, she squatted down in front of Bree again. "You're sure you're okay to drive home?"
"I'm sure."
Valerie stood up. "You know, maybe you shouldn't do exorcisms yet. Maybe you should, like, go to a therapist, get some help with those flashbacks. I know a powered therapist who works with this stuff."
Bree was too tired and demoralized to explain that she had already done all that. She just wanted Valerie gone. She couldn't stand to face her a moment longer. She had put all their lives at risk with her failure, and the guilt was choking her. She nodded, and managed to say, "It's okay, I've already got a therapist. You were great. I'm lucky I had you as second today."
Valerie's face lit up with a sweet smile. "Thank you! You take care now."
"You too."
Valerie left her sitting there, sitting alone with her failure, the image of Jeremy's burned face seared into her memory, to join the parade of ugly images from past exorcisms. Except this one was her fault. It was entirely and completely her fault.
The hell of it was, that wouldn't stop the pressure on her to do it again. Accidents like this were a part of doing exorcisms, and there were never enough Exorcists to keep the tide of demons at bay. She would have to do this all over again.
And it would be even more dangerous if what she'd experienced with this particular demon was true. Misjudging the strength of a demon was incredibly dangerous, for the exorcist as well as the subject, and she was pretty sure it had happened twice now. Today, with Jeremy, and during that last exorcism with Seth. He'd been primary, but she'd assessed that demon herself as secondary, and hadn't thought it at all capable of breaking away from Seth's power.
Bree did not like where her thoughts were leading her. If demons were somehow developing an ability to mask how strong they were, more possessed would be hurt or killed, and more exorcists would die. Getting back in the game was going to be even more deadly than she'd feared.
Chapter 2
Bree
was engaged in the homely task of chopping potatoes for soup on a rainy October afternoon, almost two weeks after Jeremy's exorcism, when she felt a chill breeze across her back. She glanced at the back door. Damn, she'd failed to check that the doorknob had caught after she took out the compost. She was annoyed with herself. This was not new, as she'd been annoyed with herself pretty much continually since the exorcism.
She walked over to the back door, opened it, and stepped out onto the small wooden stoop. There was a roof over it, but the wind was coming from the west, and it blew rain into her face. She welcomed it, closing her eyes, feeling the scatter of drops pattering against her skin like random, miniature torpedoes of water. She stood like that for some time, long enough to get cold. She wanted the cold, anything to distract her from her irritability.
She was pulled out of her grim reverie by the sensation of a cat brushing against her leg as it dashed inside. Bree opened her eyes and turned to see not just one, but two cats lurking in the doorway between the kitchen and the small dining area beyond, a calico and a young black cat.
“Oh, come on!” Bree cried in frustration. This was all she needed, another round of home invasion cats to wrangle. She stalked inside, and the cats ran for it, deeper into the house, toward her living room. “I am in no mood,” she growled as she grabbed for the black cat. It was too fast, and made it under the couch. The calico, an old hand at the game, had already retreated up the stairs towards her bedroom.
Bree was on her knees, reaching under the couch for the black one, when the doorbell rang. She sat up, one hand pushing her long brown hair back, and closed her eyes, reaching for patience. The doorbell sounded again, and she got to her feet and went to the door. She checked through the peephole, and there stood Dion Evans, in all his glory. “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she muttered. She briefly considered pretending she wasn’t home, but he’d probably heard her coming to the door, so, reluctantly, she opened it.
“Bree baby, what’s goin’ on?” He greeted her with a dimpled smile, brilliantly white in his dark face. The smile faded quickly as he took in her strained expression. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Something in his sympathetic gaze triggered the threat of self-pitying tears. "Not really. I'm just in a bit of a mood." She took a breath and forced down the tears. “Come on in.” She backed away to make room for him. He stepped around the black cat, which had followed her to the door. She took a stab at herding it outside with her foot, but the annoying little fur ball dodged her nimbly. She gave up and shut the door.
“So what’s making it a bad day?” Dion asked as he hung up his coat on a hook by the door and led the way into the living room.
Bree's mood veered back toward annoyance. It was Dion who'd talked her into doing that last exorcism in the first place. "I haven't been doing that great since, you know."
"The exorcism?" Dion returned, unfazed "You can say the word. It won't contaminate you."
Bree dropped down into her Grandma Zelda’s pink damask chair. "Easy for you to say."
Dion settled down on his accustomed place on one end of her couch, gorgeously arrayed as usual, in a crisply ironed white shirt and soft, shimmery brown wool pants. He was tall, sweet, smooth, and likely to sneak up on you. "I did talk to Valerie, but I'd like to hear about it from you."
Bree didn't really want to talk to him about what had happened, but on the other hand, it might keep him off her back, at least for a little while. “When the demon threatened to burn the boy, it freaked me out and triggered a flashback. I lost control, and the demon burned him. Valerie took over and finished the exorcism for me."
"That's why exorcists have seconds. It can happen."
"Tell that to the poor kid. He's going to have to live with that scar on his face for the rest of his life."
"Actually, the little guy is doing well. The plastic surgeon is fairly optimistic that the scarring can be minimized."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
“Yes, it is,” Dion replied with a direct look that made her squirm. The black cat jumped up onto his lap, and he petted it absently.
“Well, if you're here to pressure me again with how much I’m needed, you might as well turn back around and leave.”
“I didn’t come here to ask you to do an exorcism,” Dion began.
“But?” Bree prompted suspiciously.
“But,” Dion continued evenly, “I don’t think it’s doing you a lot of good to avoid power work altogether.”
Bree crossed her arms defensively across her chest and looked away. As if that would protect her.
“C’mon, you know it’s true. I get that you don’t feel up to another exorcism yet, though, yes, you are needed. Possessions are still going up, and I can admit to hoping that at some point, you’ll be ready to give it a go again. You were always very good at it.”
“Obviously not good enough,” Bree answered tightly.
“In any case, that’s not what I’m talking about right now. I’m talking about you shutting down your power. It’s draining you, can’t you see that?”
Conflicting feelings rose up in Bree. She did miss power work, at least some parts of it. And she was fed up with avoiding it. But admitting that opened her up to a world of pressure, and not just from Dion. He was a friend, and it was bad enough having to deal with his guilt tripping. Dealing with almost anyone else on the powered City Council was definitely worse.
The calico had crept back into the room. It left off sniffing Dion’s shoes and jumped up onto her lap, purring for all it was worth. Bree almost liked this particular cat, and she tentatively rubbed it behind the ears.
Dion leaned back and crossed an ankle across his knee, prompting a protesting trill from the black cat as it was jostled. “I’ve been on the lookout for something small for you to start with, something to ease you back in, and I think I’ve found something.”
“Look Dion, I know your intentions are good. I know you believe it will help me to get back out there and work a little power. But I don’t think…”
“Look, this is a piece of cake, nothing too dark. Just a little bit of taint that needs cleared up for a friend of Kevin’s. Guy’s new in town, Kevin knew him back in Boston, and he’s not connected up with the resources here, if you know what I mean.”
Hah. Of course Kevin would leave it to Dion to approach her. Kevin would take “no” for an answer, and Dion, in his slippery, sneaky way, rarely would. Still, in spite of herself, Bree’s interest was stirring. She used to like taint cases. They were interesting and usually easy.
She stuffed the interest back in its box. “That would be assuming I want something to start with. You know, I’ve been enjoying a peaceful life. Just doing my work, getting caught up with the garden, actually cooking for a change. It suits me. Nobody gets hurt when I grow daffodils. I’m liking that about my life.”
Dion regarded her seriously, dark eyes sympathetic. “You can’t just keep hiding out like this. It’s not working for you any more. You say you’re content, but you look like all the light has gone out of you. And I don’t think it’s just the grief over losing Seth. Not using the power you have, it’s just not healthy. It's energy, and energy needs to move, or it starts eating at you.”
Bree winced internally. Dion was right about that. It wasn’t that she hadn’t given thought to getting back into power use. “How can I be ready when I’m still having flashbacks? I can’t afford to have one in the middle of a working.”
“That has to have been something of a fluke. It’d been what, four or five months since the last one? And besides, how often are you going to be confronted with fire?”
“Often enough if I go back to exorcisms. Look, I have to tell you about something. I really misjudged the strength of the demon during the exorcism with Jeremy. And I'm pretty sure that's what happened with Seth. I'm wondering if something is changing with demons to make that happen.”
Dion shook his head. "I think you're jumping to conclusions here. I get you want there to be a reason those exorcisms went south, but I doubt we're talking some change in demons. Have you ever heard anything before about demons developing new abilities?"
"No, but that doesn't mean it's impossible."
"Exorcisms are just plain dangerous. You know that. And besides, I don't think you were ready to take primary on your first time back in action. I shouldn't have assigned you that one."
Bree sighed. "Clearly I wasn't ready to take on primary, even if I am more experienced than the sweet young thing they sent to be my second. So you can just march on back to the Council and tell them I'm not ready to do exorcisms.”
“But that’s not what we’re talking about here. I just think this gig with Kevin's friend sounds like a way to test things out a little. This guy’s a long time power user, born into a powered family, real traditional, so this isn’t like working a normal. And Kevin says the guy isn’t even sure it’s taint, so it can’t be that bad a case. It’s a piece of cake.”
Interest popped back out of its box again, all bright eyed and bushy tailed. A nice simple job, a power user that could help her along instead of fighting her, no superstitions to wade through. But then Bree remembered all the other jobs Dion had said were ‘a piece of cake.’ “Right, so what’s the catch?”