this isn’t a trick to get Megan alone with the Satanists?” asked Guy.
“You don’t,” replied Orthon, his crimson eyes narrowing into an icy glare.
This time I did nothing to smooth over the rift between them. I had my own troubles. I sat there, my head hanging low. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. If it wasn’t Satan, it was the Satanists. I had again allowed myself to believe the worst was behind me when Guy had successfully kept Satan from entering my dreams. Will this ever end? I wondered.
Guy eased into the seat next to me and took my hand in his. “Do not despair. We can beat this one, too.”
“I want to believe you,” I said, my voice cracking. “It’s just that… I get the feeling it’s never going to end until I surrender.” A wellspring of hopeless tears appeared in my eyes.
“I will never let them have you,” said Guy. He put his arm around me.
“Neither will I,” Orthon said from across the table. I looked into his eyes, spilling over with pain. I wondered if his pain was the result of my tears, or the pain of watching Guy comfort me.
“Why do the Satanists want me? Is it to replace Erin as Satan’s bride?” I was finding it hard to think, but I had to hold it together.
“I do not know, but they’ve had you in their sites for a long time,” Orthon replied. He lowered his pain-filled eyes as if, in not knowing the answer to my question, he’d let me down. “I’ve given you all the information I have,” he said, avoiding my gaze.
“Then we have to find out.” I stood. “Aunt Jaz,” I said in a breathless sigh. “I know she’s been in the hospital, but we have to run this by her. She’s always been a wealth of information. She may have more insight into what’s going on.” Both Guy and Orthon seemed to agree. “If anyone will know what to do, she will.”
I hadn’t seen Aunt Jaz since I’d discovered it was me who’d tried to kill her. It was time to make my apology.
*
We gathered in her living room the next day after school. I asked Harrison to join us. He was like a big brother to me and a demon fighter to boot. Aunt Jaz’s living room seemed small and felt cramped with me and three tall men gathered there. Harrison’s lanky frame looked so uncomfortable next to Guy on the banana-shaped sectional sofa. Orthon chose to sit away from them on the rocker in the corner.
Aunt Jaz’s apartment usually smelled of something delightful that was cooking in the kitchen. Today, the faint fragrance of cinnamon was in the air, the fragrance used by Orthon to mask his foul odor.
Orthon’s odor was the elephant in the room. Everyone detected it, noses twitched and eyes searched for the source. And then there was the knowing look on both Guy and Harrison’s faces as they realized the source was Orthon.
My heart went out to him. He seemed so uncomfortable, seated at the edge of the chair, not allowing it to rock, as if any movement would make things worse. He stared at the ceiling and walls, at everything but us. Being in the presence of the angel I loved and a demon slayer had to be the last place he wanted to be. He was here for me. I tried to catch his eye and give him a reassuring smile. I wanted him to know I was grateful he’d come, but he wouldn’t look at me.
Maudrina and Aunt Jaz appeared in the doorway. The three men all rose to their feet. Aunt Jaz smiled. “One trip to the hospital, and suddenly I’m the Queen of France.” She laughed easily, trying not to push it. She was in full makeup, and her hair had been recently done in a relaxed fifties style. She had on the cutest white dressing gown with a green polka dot print.
I smiled inwardly. There was no way Aunt Jaz was going to allow a man to see her without makeup. She was nearly back to her old self, and yet she appeared to be downsized. That’s the only way I can describe it. I can’t say she looked thinner, or less healthy, just somehow she seemed less; less Aunt Jaz, less full of
“You don’t,” replied Orthon, his crimson eyes narrowing into an icy glare.
This time I did nothing to smooth over the rift between them. I had my own troubles. I sat there, my head hanging low. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. If it wasn’t Satan, it was the Satanists. I had again allowed myself to believe the worst was behind me when Guy had successfully kept Satan from entering my dreams. Will this ever end? I wondered.
Guy eased into the seat next to me and took my hand in his. “Do not despair. We can beat this one, too.”
“I want to believe you,” I said, my voice cracking. “It’s just that… I get the feeling it’s never going to end until I surrender.” A wellspring of hopeless tears appeared in my eyes.
“I will never let them have you,” said Guy. He put his arm around me.
“Neither will I,” Orthon said from across the table. I looked into his eyes, spilling over with pain. I wondered if his pain was the result of my tears, or the pain of watching Guy comfort me.
“Why do the Satanists want me? Is it to replace Erin as Satan’s bride?” I was finding it hard to think, but I had to hold it together.
“I do not know, but they’ve had you in their sites for a long time,” Orthon replied. He lowered his pain-filled eyes as if, in not knowing the answer to my question, he’d let me down. “I’ve given you all the information I have,” he said, avoiding my gaze.
“Then we have to find out.” I stood. “Aunt Jaz,” I said in a breathless sigh. “I know she’s been in the hospital, but we have to run this by her. She’s always been a wealth of information. She may have more insight into what’s going on.” Both Guy and Orthon seemed to agree. “If anyone will know what to do, she will.”
I hadn’t seen Aunt Jaz since I’d discovered it was me who’d tried to kill her. It was time to make my apology.
*
We gathered in her living room the next day after school. I asked Harrison to join us. He was like a big brother to me and a demon fighter to boot. Aunt Jaz’s living room seemed small and felt cramped with me and three tall men gathered there. Harrison’s lanky frame looked so uncomfortable next to Guy on the banana-shaped sectional sofa. Orthon chose to sit away from them on the rocker in the corner.
Aunt Jaz’s apartment usually smelled of something delightful that was cooking in the kitchen. Today, the faint fragrance of cinnamon was in the air, the fragrance used by Orthon to mask his foul odor.
Orthon’s odor was the elephant in the room. Everyone detected it, noses twitched and eyes searched for the source. And then there was the knowing look on both Guy and Harrison’s faces as they realized the source was Orthon.
My heart went out to him. He seemed so uncomfortable, seated at the edge of the chair, not allowing it to rock, as if any movement would make things worse. He stared at the ceiling and walls, at everything but us. Being in the presence of the angel I loved and a demon slayer had to be the last place he wanted to be. He was here for me. I tried to catch his eye and give him a reassuring smile. I wanted him to know I was grateful he’d come, but he wouldn’t look at me.
Maudrina and Aunt Jaz appeared in the doorway. The three men all rose to their feet. Aunt Jaz smiled. “One trip to the hospital, and suddenly I’m the Queen of France.” She laughed easily, trying not to push it. She was in full makeup, and her hair had been recently done in a relaxed fifties style. She had on the cutest white dressing gown with a green polka dot print.
I smiled inwardly. There was no way Aunt Jaz was going to allow a man to see her without makeup. She was nearly back to her old self, and yet she appeared to be downsized. That’s the only way I can describe it. I can’t say she looked thinner, or less healthy, just somehow she seemed less; less Aunt Jaz, less full of
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