Demons are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom (6 page)

“I... well ... you know...”

I was desperately afraid I did know. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “It’s no big. Honest.”

On the contrary, I thought it was totally big. The question, though, was how to handle it. For that, I didn’t have a ready answer.

“Does Stuart know you have his sword?” I asked, mostly because it was the first thing I thought of. “Isn’t that the one he keeps hanging in his office?”

“Um, maybe?” “Well, put it back before he notices it’s gone. And get dressed,” I added, fixing her with my stern mother look. “We need to get going.”

“Okay. Sure thing. No problem.” She started scrambling for her closet, clearly happy to have escaped a full grilling.

As for me, I slipped outside the room and pulled her door closed again. I leaned against the door frame and closed my eyes, certain I’d completely mishandled the situation but too raw emotionally to go back in her room and start over.

Once upon a time, I’d thought demon-hunting was hard. But that was before I’d become a mom.

Trust me. In comparison to parenting, stalking and killing demons is a piece of cake.

“Higher, Mommy! Higher!” Timmy squealed,
his little legs
_d
angling over the pea gravel as he flew through the air in the bucket-style swing.

“Hey, squirt,” Allie said, swinging high next to him. “Just kick your legs like me. Then you won’t even need Mom.”

“Thanks a lot,” I said, feeling a little pang in my heart. Because it was true. Allie was almost to an age where she didn’t need me. And even though Timmy wasn’t yet three, one of these days, he’d get there, too. That’s the bittersweet part of being a mom. You slather on all that love and attention so that your kids will grow up strong, confident, and self-sufficient. And if you’ve done your job right, you’ve raised grown-ups who can go off and manage just fine without you.

We were in the cathedral’s play yard, having retrieved Timmy from the infant-to-three nursery (a lifesaver, in my opinion, and an unfortunate rarity among Catholic churches). Now we were surrounded by children of all ages. They were swinging, climbing on monkey bars, teetering on see-saws, and basically burning off all that pent-up energy that comes from sitting (mostly) still through more than an hour of Mass.

We’d come in two cars, and Stuart had already headed on to the office. Technically, today was the last day of his vacation, but I should have known the lure of the job would be too strong to resist. Now, I was waiting for Father Ben to finish the post-Mass meet-and-greet so that we could spend a few minutes discussing this Andramelech thing.

“He’s in a Pull-Ups,” I told Allie. “But if you need to change him, there are some more in the van. And some wipes and a change of clothes, too.”

“Mo-
om
.” She dragged her heels, skidding to a stop, then twisting around in the swing to look at me. “How come I have to watch him?”

“I already told you. I need to chat with Father Ben for a few minutes.”

From the depth of her sigh, you would have thought I’d told her she had to repeat junior high.

“It’s just for a few minutes, Allie. Have you got anything better to do?”

One shoulder lifted, and she scuffed her toe in the gravel. “Dunno. Why can’t I go with you?”

My heart did that pitter-patter number as I wondered just how much of my secret life Allie suspected. After all, wasn’t it pretty much genetically encoded for teenagers to completely discount everything their parents tell them? If she thought I was still in the demon-hunting biz, then it would make sense that I’d have a priest as a contact.

And even though I was experiencing a certain amount of guilt over the lie I’d told her, I still didn’t come clean with my daughter. I wasn’t ready, and I suppose I was still clinging to the hope that she was simply being your average whiny teenager, desperately seeking an excuse to avoid babysitting her toddler brother.

“I’m only talking to him about the archives,” I said. “Nothing interesting at all. And Timmy would be bored out of his mind,” I added, giving him another push on the swing in response to his ear-splitting scream for attention.

“Just archives?”

“That’s it,” I said. “And I seriously doubt you want to give up cheerleader practice to help me sort through and inventory bug-infested boxes of records. But if you do ...”

I let the offer hang out there, reasonably sure she would run far and fast. If I was wrong, of course, I’d have to amend my agenda for today’s discussion with Ben. The upside, though, would be that I’d have a helper for my deathly dull committee duty.

I’d signed on before the summer, and even though the project was supposed to have been finished by autumn, it was still dragging on—the universal nature of volunteer work. You would have thought that after years in the PTA I would have expected it.

She held on to the chains that supported the swing, then bent backwards, letting out a low, suffering groan as she did. Her long hair brushed the gravel, and I saw her chest rise and fall as she sighed. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if she was frustrated or practicing to join a contortionist group. I also couldn’t tell what she was thinking. As hard as it was for me to admit, I could no longer look at her face and see what was going on in her head. As life skills go, I suppose she’d learned from the best. I am, after all, a master at lying to my family.

“Allie?”

She lifted herself back up into a sitting position, then hopped off the swing. “Okay. Fine. I’ll stay here with Timmy.” She held out her hands. “Keys?”

I hesitated, and she noticed.

“In case I need to change Timmy,” she said. “I mean, come on. You think I’m going to take the van and go joyriding or something?”

I didn’t, but I also had never expected her to sneak out of the house after I’d told her in no uncertain terms that she couldn’t go out. But she had. And the consequences had been bad, bad, bad.

She rolled her eyes, apparently able to read my thoughts. “I got it, Mom. Lesson learned.”

“Good kid. And since I know it’s a huge pain to watch your brother, why don’t we swing by the mall before we go home?”

“Are you buying?” she asked, perking up. “Cuz I’ve totally blown my allowance.”

“I was thinking we’d stay in the parking lot,” I admitted. “You can apply for your learner’s permit soon. If you want to practice a little, I’ll sit quietly in the passenger seat and try not to freak out.”

“Yeah?” she asked, eyes bright.

“Why not?”

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, rewarding me with a rare hug. “And it’s not that much of a pain to watch him,” she admitted, scooting over to swing-pushing position. “As brother’s go, he’s pretty okay.”

As kids go, both of mine are more than okay, and I felt a nice little tug of mommy pride as I left them in the play yard and headed to find Father Ben. Thankfully, my timing was perfect, and we retreated into his office in the rectory.

“Anything?” I demanded, as soon as he shut the door.

“Possibly,” Ben said. “I called Father Corletti last night, and he was able to get back to me this morning.”

“What did he say?”

“About seven years ago, cults sprang up throughout Europe and Asia. Cults that worshipped Andramelech. And made sacrifices to him.”

I winced, remembering what Eddie had said about the Assyrians. “Children?” I asked, barely able to voice the question.

“I’m afraid so.”

“What happened?”

“The police in the various regions investigated the deaths and disappearances, as you would expect. And, naturally, the cult activities were secret, so the local authorities didn’t make the connection at first.”

“But Forza did.”

“Exactly,” he said, with a slight nod of his head. “I’m still rather overwhelmed by the organization’s resources.”

“If the resources are that good, then how come we’re hiding bodies in the catacombs?”

He grinned at me. “Ah, Kate. You’re becoming old and jaded.”

“Am I? Or are you just new and naive?” Father Ben was relatively new to the whole
Forza
thing, having been informed of the organization at the same time that he was recruited to be my
alimentatore.
So far, he’s got a grand total of almost three months under his belt. On the whole, I thought he was adjusting remarkably well. Even if he was a bit naive.

“I may be new, but I’m the one with the information you need,” he said, holding on to a sheaf of papers.

I immediately turned contrite. “I take it all back,” I said. “You might be new to the job, but you bring a freshness and exuberance that more than makes up for your lack of on-the-job experience.” We were teasing each other now, but I actually meant every word of that.

“Such flattery.” He motioned toward one of the guest chairs even as he settled in behind his desk. “The rest of the story is quite interesting, though I have nothing that I’d call concrete.”

“What do you have?”

“A name,” he said. “Nadia Aiken.”

“Should that mean something to me?”

“Not necessarily. She’s a Hunter, and she was assigned to investigate these cults. To see if in fact the members were doing Andramelech’s bidding.”

“And?”

“According to her reports, the demon was indeed active. He was seeking to raise an army comprised of both demons and human followers. She encountered several of his minions—demons in human form—and disposed of them.”

All of this was news to me, but that made sense. Seven years ago Allie was a precocious second grader, and the only battle on my mind was the one to get my daughter to clean her room and do her homework. A demon running around fomenting cult activity wasn’t tops on my priority list back then. For that matter, demons weren’t even on my list.

“And then what happened?”

“Apparently the cult continued to spread, gaining toe-holds in other areas, including the United States. She traveled here, while other Hunters remained behind in Europe.

She found cults in San Francisco, New Orleans, New York, and Florida.”

“Dear God,” I said. “Was she able to do anything?”

“Her last report was quite cryptic. She said that she’d contacted an alimentatore who might be able to offer assistance. She didn’t say who, though, nor did she report this communication to her assigned alimentatore.”

“So what happened?”

“We don’t know,” he admitted, closing the file folder.

I fell back in my seat, frustrated. “That’s it?”

“No, Kate. That’s not it. We don’t know what she did, but we do know that the cults began to break apart. Some of the members were interviewed by Forza investigators later, and they spoke of feeling a snap, almost as if one minute they were bound by Andramelech, and the next minute they had been freed. Many of the cult members turned to the Church. Some, though, attempted to summon the demon again.”

“But they weren’t successful.”

“No,” he confirmed. “They weren’t.”

“Andramelech’s shackles,” I murmured. “That’s what the demon on the beach said.” I looked up at Father Ben. “So seven years ago, he was free—probably even in human form—and running around gathering followers and doing his demon thing. But someone managed to imprison him, and the spell over his cult members was broken. Is that right?”

“As far as we know.”

“So who imprisoned him? Nadia?”

“We assume so, but there is no way to be certain.”

“She died?” I felt a twinge of loss for this Hunter I’d never met.

“We don’t know. According to Father Corletti, she ceased all communications about five years ago. He believes her efforts to entrap Andramelech killed her.”

“What do you believe?” I asked.

He smiled thinly and shook his head. “Perhaps it’s because I am so naïve—or perhaps it’s because I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you—but I choose to believe that Ms. Aiken is still alive.”

“If she’s alive, though, why is she hiding?”

Father Ben met my eyes. “We’re talking about one of the chancellors of Hell, and she’d made it her mission to bring down the army he was raising. If I had to guess, I’d say that she’s terrified.”

Three

“Butterrified of what?” Laura asked, after I relayed the conversation to her. “If this Andre demon is locked up now, what’s Nadia still got to be terrified of?”

“That’s what I don’t get either,” I admitted, as I teetered on the ladder in front of the house and tried to disentangle the Christmas lights Stuart had so carefully hung a few weeks ago. “And I didn’t have the chance to ask Ben what he meant because Delores came in to talk about the committee stuff with me.” I made a face. “Apparently Allie saw her outside and told her Father and I were talking about the archives, so ...”

Laura’s laughter trickled up from the foot of my ladder. “You are so busted.”

“I know,” I admitted. As much as I wanted to believe that Allie was simply trying to be helpful, I couldn’t help but think that sending Delores our way had been her passive-aggressive teenage way of letting me know that she knew I’d pulled one over on her.

“You need to tell her. It’s one thing to have kept quiet about something in your past. Kids inherently understand that. I mean, I still to this day won’t admit to Mindy that I wore one of those goofy sweatbands in my hair during high school. But lie about something happening now...”

She trailed off, looking wistfully toward the inside of my house, where our girls were currently sitting on the couch, enthralled by the latest fashion mags to have hit the news-stand. “Trust me,” she said. “For that, it’s much tougher to earn forgiveness.”

I immediately shifted to best friend mode. “How’s she doing? Any better?”

Laura’s husband, Paul, had recently dropped the divorce bomb. They’d decided to keep quiet about it until after the holiday, but that plan hadn’t gone over particularly well. In addition to crying and sulking because of the actual divorce, Mindy had been supremely pissed off that they’d “treated her like a baby and played pretend family” over Christmas. Considering Laura and Paul were trying to ensure that Mindy at least had a decent Christmas, their daughter’s reaction had been a bit disappointing, to say the least.