Demonized by Naomi Clark

Author:Naomi Clark
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: mystery, detective, Naomi Clark, demon, dark fantasy, PI, Damnation Books, urban fantasy
ISBN: 9781615723379
Publisher: Damnation Books
Published: 2011-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

When I came round, I was soaking wet and shivering at the edge of the baptismal pool. Crane and Mutt leaned over me with matching expressions of concern. The church was silent, no fires, no demons. The altar cloth smoked gently, the only sign of our exorcism–excuse me, deliverance ceremony–gone wrong.

I sat up, coughing a mouthful of water all over Crane. “So,” I rasped. “Am I gonna die or am I stronger than ever?”

“Are you alright?” he asked me. “Dear lord, I’ve never...”

I rubbed Mutt’s ears as he licked my face, trying to figure out what had really happened and what had just been in my head. I couldn’t. I had no way to tell without asking Crane, and he didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it. I listened for the Voice, and was crushed to hear the demon lurking at the back of my mind, pushed way down and suppressed, but definitely still there, sulking.

Shit. All that for nothing.

“Mr. Banning?” Crane persisted. “Are you okay?”

I ran my hands through my hair, biting back the urge to laugh deliriously, which probably wouldn’t convince Crane that I was okay. I mean, I wasn’t, but obviously my problem was beyond his skills.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “I’d kill for a cup of coffee though.”

Crane winced at my poor word choice, but fetched me a cup anyway. I wrapped my arms around Mutt and hugged him close. “Back to the drawing board, I guess,” I told him. “Maybe we can try crystal therapy or something?”

Mutt stuck his tongue down my ear, which I took as a “no.” He was probably right. If God couldn’t get rid of the Voice, a few chunks of rock had no chance.

* * * *

Father Crane acted pretty nice about the whole thing, really. He refused my offers to pay for the ruined altar cloth, and even took my number in case he came up with any new ideas for solving my little problem. Actually, I think the whole experience kinda made him happy, in a weird way, like he had a cause now.

“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Banning,” he promised me as he waved me off. I saw a bright light in his eyes that made me wonder if the whole episode had pushed him over the edge. “We’ll beat this somehow.”

Feeling heavy and empty at the same time, I made my way to another café and risked heading inside to grab some food. The Voice stayed quiet, and I managed to order myself a burger and fries to go without threatening anyone. Outside, I sat on the curb with Mutt and munched my way blindly through the food. Once I finished, I called Stoker.

Given how moody she’d sounded last time we spoke, I was surprised when she picked up. I guess calling in the middle of the day instead of the middle of the night helped.

“Ethan, how are you?” she asked.

“Really crappy.” I filled her in on the failed exorcism. “I’m open to new ideas.

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