Jingle Hells (3 page)

Scooting forward another inch, Dee whispered
in my ear, “The Erelim.”

While the name didn’t ring any bells in my
brain, all the hair on my arms stood up. Delilah’s eyes were wide
as she scanned my face for my reaction, but the seeping frostbite
in my bones wasn’t visible on my face.

“And who exactly are the Erelim?”

At my question, two things happened at once.
The cat sank into a crouch, the hair on its back doing another
mullet impression, and Delilah gave a little squeak of alarm,
clapping a hand over my mouth.

Her eyes darted around the room and up at
the ceiling as if she expected the second coming. “You must not say
the name out loud,” she whispered.

Removing her hand from my face, I fought the
urge to roll my eyes. “Why?”

Her big-eyed gaze refocused on me and
changed into a look of disbelief. “You don’t know?”

I shook my head, and the cat zipped under my
desk like it was a bomb shelter.

Delilah closed her eyes and bowed her head.
“God help us.”

Chapter Three:
Angels and
Demons

Immaculate Conception Church towered over
me, dueling spirals pointing at the stars in the clear December
heavens like arrows bound for glory. A chorus of high, thin voices
singing hymns carried through the stone and mortar walls. Stained
class windows glowed from inside with angels and apostles chatting
in frozen mosaics. To my right, Mary stared down serenely at a baby
in a straw-lined crib. It was all so…heavenly, I shuddered under my
wool pea coat.

As I stared at the enormous wooden doors at
the top of the stairs, I took the first step and considered the
odds of a reformed Devil-worshipper breaching them without
repercussion.

Not a chance in hell, the little voice in my
head warned.

Repercussions or not, I was on a mission.
Besides my quest to straighten out Samson and Delilah’s debacle, my
sister Emilia’s possession weighed heavy on my mind. My run-in with
Gabriel at Halloween had made me aware there was more going on in
the world of angels and demons than any witch should stick her
pentagram in. Emilia’s overnight right turn from a harm-none,
peasant-skirted Wiccan to a blood-lusting, Gucci-clad Devil
worshiper was hard to ignore. While I admired her new designer
wardrobe, I was a little concerned about her soul.

Yeah, go figure. Me, the one who couldn’t
wait to offer mine up to the Devil on a silver platter, was now
worried about the woman who stole him from me. Sisters. Yeesh.

And since I had a new understanding of the
way some angels worked, I was concerned about Delilah as well.
Maybe she was telling the truth, maybe not. Either way, I wanted to
know who the Erelim were and why their reputation was the heavenly
equivalent to the earthly Godfather.

Tonight I was at Immaculate Conception to
talk to an expert. Father Leonard promised to see me after choir
practice.

Propelling myself up another step, I heard a
low growl coming from the manger scene. A bristling wolf strode out
from behind Mary and Joseph and galloped up the stairs, stopping at
my eye-level. He was beautiful, his blue-black hair catching the
light from the windows above.

I should have been terrified. Instead, a
warm sensation flooded my senses, like someone pouring liquid
chocolate over me. Everything in my body responded. My eyes closed,
my nostrils flared, my nipples tightened. The goose bumps on my
skin disappeared and luscious heat rose in their place. I swayed on
the steps, letting the voices of the choir inside lift me off the
ground.

And then that little voice inside my head
said, hel-lo, sin, and the world of enchantment crashed down around
me.

I opened my eyes and glared at Lucifer in
his wolfy sheep’s clothing. “What are you doing here?”

He bared his teeth, the canine fangs twice
as long as a normal wolf’s. I’d seen them before. Felt them nipping
the sensitive skin on my thighs and buried in the vein of my neck
during my vampire-fetish phase. They didn’t scare me. In fact,
certain body parts zinged remembering those delirious nights.

Trying to knock sense into my parts, I
stomped my feet on the sidewalk. “You cannot stop me from going
inside this church.”

The wolf paced the stairs, his strides
confident and eloquent, just like the more human version
inside.

“Go away.” I waved a hand in his direction.
“Or I’ll call the priest to banish you.”

He left out a howling woof that sounded like
a laugh. I charged him and he growled, stopping me before I took
another step. Would Lucifer actually hurt me to keep me from going
inside a holy place?

And then I realized he wasn’t growling at
me. A man had come up the sidewalk and now stood a few feet behind
me. He was burly under a wool trench coat, his dark hair curly and
trimmed close to his skull. His eyes were warm and friendly as he
smiled in the dim light coming from the windows. “A wolf, huh? How
cliché.”

Lucifer emitted another dangerous growl,
lips peeled back so far, I could see his gums.

“Knock it off,” I said under my breath.

The man climbed the steps to stand next to
me and leaned his shoulder against mine. “With demons, you have to
invoke God.”

What? My eyes did the mambo between him and
Lucifer. He knew the wolf was from the underworld? Holy
guacamole.

“Demon?” I forced a jovial laugh that
sounded stilted in the cold night air. “Don’t be silly. It’s just
a…a…stray dog.” Taking another step, I did the shooing motion
with my hand again. “A dog who’s going to stray elsewhere.”

Luc held his stance and the man stepped up
so we were again shoulder to shoulder, a show of solidarity. He
tilted his head and said sotto voci, “Try ‘the Lord rebuke
thee.’”

At my astonished look, he continued. “It’s
what our Lord said to the Devil in the book of Zechariah. Trust me
it works.”

For some reason, I did trust him. Me using
the Lord’s name seemed, well, sacrilegious. But when Luc growled
again and snapped at the man, I decided to get serious about my
newfound goodness. Glaring at the wolf, I repeated the man’s words
with gusto. “The Lord rebuke thee.”

Luc nipped at the air, making me jump back,
but then he jackknifed to the side and jetted into the nearby
trees.

Stunned it would be so easy, I stared at my
new BFF. “How did you know?”

He took my elbow and guided me up the
remaining steps. “The same way I know you’re a witch.”

Gulp. What? Did I have a neon sign
announcing to one and all my predilection for the Devil? I pulled
my elbow out of his grip and faced him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” His gaze was level and completely
unconcerned. He pointed to the door. “You coming in?”

I glanced at the looming door and bit the
inside of my cheek, wondering if a lightning bolt would kill me
instantly or if I’d be in pain for awhile. He shrugged and grabbed
the handle as if it were no skin off his back if I stayed on the
stairs. Seemed like my best bet to avoid a lightening strike, as
well as the Devil, was to stick like wallpaper to my new friend. I
surged forward and gave him my best smile. “Just so you know, I’m a
reformed witch.”

He grinned. “A lost soul returning to the
fold.”

Catholics. Yeesh. “My soul’s not so much
lost as under a blood contract.”

“To the Devil, I suppose.”

I nodded.

“Well, well. Another cliché.” His eyes
bounced off my face, down to my boots, and then did a slow perusal
back up. I might have been a cliché, but from the look on his face,
I was a nicely packaged one.

Everywhere his gaze touched, electricity
raced over my skin. A pulling sensation burst inside me, as if he’d
just poked my magic with a sharp needle. I flinched and started to
back away, but he used a strong hand and another warm smile to
usher me forward. “Perhaps you’ll find what you need in here.”

Mentally prepping myself for a burning, slow
death, I took a step toward the door and stuck my toe across the
threshold, ready to flee at the first sign of impending doom. I’m a
good witch, er, person, I repeated over and over. Harm none. Harm
none. Harm none.

No peal of thunder or flash of lightning
materialized. Pure, unadulterated relief washed over me, and I
stepped fully into the church. In for a pentagram, in for a
pound.

The smell of burning candles, wet wool and
stale perfume assaulted my nostrils as the choir put the finishing
touches on a carol. I moved another step in and saw the lights in
the nave had been dimmed. Candles burned on an altar in front of
the pulpit. Behind the choir seats was a Christ figure on the
cross.

A shiver ran through me and my feet stuck to
the floor. The magic in my chest recoiled. My bones trembled. What
the hell was wrong with me?

I didn’t belong here, that’s what. Even as
the man started to guide me farther into the church, another shiver
rose from my bones. My magic struggled to break free, snapping at
the church air like Luc had just done outside.

I needed to get out and fast. Yanking away
from his hand, I backed toward the front door and glanced at my
watch. “You know, I just remembered another appointment I have
tonight. Could you tell Father Leonard I’ll call him tomorrow?”

Humor lighted his eyes. “Father Leonard will
be disappointed.”

Well, that was too damn bad. A massive
weight pressed on my chest, trying to crush it. Continuing to face
the man, I backed toward freedom. I would have bolted, but I still
needed some questions answered about my sister and the Samson and
Delilah story. “I promise. I’ll call.”

He took a step forward, following me.
Concern creased his forehead. “Sorry for being so elusive. If you
need immediate assistance, I assure you, I can help. I’m Father
Leonard.”

The light behind him from the nave’s candles
glowed softly, outlining his upper body. The magic in my chest
protested again, or maybe I was having a heart attack. “You’re
Leonard?”

He nodded one quick downward tilt of his
head. “You need help with a demon possession?”

Okay, that was too much coincidence. He had
to be reading my mind. I stopped moving backwards and challenged
him. “How do you know?”

Voices rose in jovial sounding conversations
behind us. The choir had called it quits for the night. “It’s not
every day a witch is willing to take on the Devil to seek out
assistance from me.”

Okay, so he couldn’t read my mind. My heart
relaxed a smidge. “It might not be demon possession, or at least I
don’t think it is. Have you ever heard of angel possession?”

One of his dark brows lifted into a
skeptical arch. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could
answer, two female choir members sidled up to flank him on each
side. The women were identical twins, right down to the pinpoint
pupils of their green eyes.

“Father Leonard,” one of them said. Her
voice was so smooth, so polished, she sounded like a cat purring.
She laid a hand on his arm, continued to address him, and glared at
me. “We missed you at practice tonight.”

Her twin mirrored the movement and the
territorial look. Maybe it was the low light, but their long gray
hair seemed tipped with blue. “I hope it’s nothing serious keeping
you from our company.”

Father Leonard didn’t seem to mind being
caught between them, but he patted their hands in turns and broke
free from their invasion of his personal space with grace. “I’ll be
with you in a moment, ladies. Please excuse us?”

The twins released their grips with slow
deliberation before slinking a few steps away, all the while
continuing to stare me down behind his back. I swear their pupils
turned diamond shaped. The look reminded me of Siamese cats and my
magic hissed and spit in response. No way was I discussing my
business within earshot of those two.

Preparing to whirl around and head straight
for the double doors, I forced a polite smile. “I should be going
and let you get back to your…” I motioned at the choir cats eyeing
me like I was a piece of raw tuna. “Congregation. I’ll catch up
with you another time.”

I didn’t wait for him to answer before
jogging the last few feet to the doors. As I pushed my way out, I
glanced over my shoulder. The Siamese cats were once again arm in
arm with Father Leonard, and even though he was out of range of the
nave’s light, there was still a subtle glow around his head.

If that man was just a priest, I was a
card-carrying nun.

Ten minutes later, I arrived back at the ice
cream shop and found the lights on, but the place devoid of paying
customers. Keisha paced behind the counter with an anxious set to
her jaw. The calico sat crouched under the far table.

The moment the tinkling bell above my head
stopped, I understood why. A loud crash overhead made me look up to
see if the ceiling was falling down.

“They’ve been going at it ever since you
left.” Keisha pointed a finger at the ceiling.

Samson’s and Delilah’s voices vied for
prominence before another crash punctuated their fight. “Why didn’t
you stop them?” I yelled at Keisha over the noise.

She raised both hands, palms facing upward.
“He’s Samson, remember? How was I supposed to stop him?”

“You’re a Voudon priestess. For magic’s
sake, cast a spell or something.”

“You said no magic!”

I had told her not to use magic around me. I
didn’t want to be tempted. As the war above our heads raged, I
stamped my foot with frustration. “This is an emergency. They’re
destroying my apartment!”

Her hands went to her hips. “So cast a spell
yourself. It’s not like you haven’t jumped off the wagon before
when necessary.”

Again she was right, but that was hitting
low. A raging fire about to kill innocent people was a redeemable
way to break my oath. I could see from the look in her eyes,
though, saving my apartment from demolition was not. “Fine. I’ll
stop him. Without magic.”