I stared straight ahead through the windshield. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”
One week later, Lugh’s council on the Mortal Plain gathered in the basement of Adam and Dominic’s house. That council consisted of me, Adam, Dominic, Raphael, Andy. . and Brian.
He and I had had a bit of a fight about my completely leaving him out of the loop when Raphael and I went on our dangerous rescue mission. Having been at the time still sick with the aftereffects of Lugh’s control, I was in a weakened condition and readily agreed that I should have told Brian all. I then in a fit of recklessness invited him to be part of this royal council, or whatever the hell we really were.
I realized having him as part of the council was inevitable if he and I were going to stay together. And it seemed that, despite a whole lot of obstacles and problems that weren’t going away anytime soon, we weren’t ready to give up on each other yet.
A lot had happened in the week since we’d rescued the Brewster girls. The U.S. Exorcism Board had suspended me, pending an investigation into my potential mishandling of the Jordan Maguire exorcism. It was bullshit, and they knew it, but Jordan Maguire Sr. had enough money to make them dance to his twisted little song. Besides, my name had already been associated with an illegal exorcism in the past, and though the charges had been dropped, I’m sure they raised a few of the Board members’ eyebrows. They were operating on the “better safe than sorry” theory.
I’d received three more death threats on my answering machine, though so far no one had attempted to make good on them.
And I’d confirmed that there was no one by the name of Barbara Paige working for the Philadelphia Inquirer. I’d hoped that meant she was law enforcement of some kind—which would be bad enough, but which I could at least deal with—but Adam had done some digging and hadn’t been able to find any evidence that she worked with the police or FBI.
I had an uncomfortable suspicion that I hadn’t seen the last of Reporter Barbie, whoever she really was. And I didn’t think she was in my corner. I couldn’t help wondering if there was a connection between Jordan Maguire’s death, the death threats on my answering machine, and the sudden appearance of Reporter Barbie on the scene. I didn’t like the implications if there was.
But all of these problems paled in comparison to this very unsavory meeting of Lugh’s council. Because, you see, we were about to do something that I was convinced was morally wrong. Brian wholeheartedly agreed with me, but ours were the lone voices of dissent. I don’t think Andy was happy with the idea, either, but he didn’t put up much of an argument. He’d been subdued and unnaturally quiet ever since he’d come back, and so far my attempts to draw him out had met with no success. When I asked him what was wrong, I was met with the most stereotypical of all male answers: “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Brian and I could have stayed away, boycotted this whole thing. But the fact was there was no way we could stop it, and if we weren’t going to stop it, then we would bear witness. So it was that we found ourselves in this basement, complicit with the other members of Lugh’s council even if we weren’t in agreement.
Each of us held a bloodred candle, those candles providing the only light in the room. We sat in a circle, but we didn’t have to hold hands or anything.
In the center of the circle, Dick lay on his back, with his hands clasped loosely over his midsection. The expression on his face was one of almost beatific joy, and eagerness seemed to flow out of him in waves.
I blinked away a hint of tears. Dick’s eagerness didn’t make this right. It hadn’t taken more than about ten minutes of conversation with him to realize that by all legal definitions, he was not competent to make such a decision. We were none of us psychologists, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Dick had the emotional and intellectual maturity of a child.
He had not been educated. He had not been taught any real social skills. He had not interacted with other, non-possessed human beings. And he’d been taught since the day he was born that he was merely an empty vessel, meant to be filled by a demon when his body was mature. Of course if someone asked him if he’d like to be the host of the demon Saul, he’d say yes.
I’d tried calm, rational arguments. That hadn’t lasted very long before I’d transitioned to shouting and invective. But to Adam and Dom and Lugh, it seemed that they’d found an ideal host for Saul. When I’d questioned Dominic about how his morbidly masochistic former demon would treat poor, mentally challenged Dick, Dominic had dismissed my concerns.
“Saul will take good care of him,” Dom had insisted, and I’d felt like slapping him.
“If Saul’s such a fucking saint, then why was Lugh so worried about finding a compatible host for him?”I asked.
Dominic gave me a hard look. “Because there are a lot of people out there who have a very judgmental outlook on BDSM practices, and Saul would not get along well with one of them, nor would one of them be happy to host him.”
“And you think Dick is into S&M?” I cried.
“No. I think Dick has never been taught to think of it as something sick and deviant, so it won’t bother him as it would some people.” There was no question which “some people” he meant. “And just like Saul shielded me from feeling it when things got rougher than I like, he’ll shield Dick. He’s really quite compassionate.”
I’d managed to stop myself from arguing more, because it was clear even to a stubborn mule like me that I wasn’t changing Dom’s mind.
I’d assumed that to initiate the ritual, I’d be asked to let Lugh take control so he could tell Dick Saul’s True Name for the incantation. Of course, my inclination was to refuse, but I didn’t think Raphael or Adam would have any problem with the idea of knocking me unconscious so Lugh could take over without my permission.
But when the ritual began, it turned out my assumption had been wrong. Raphael put down his candle and broke the circle, kneeling on the floor beside Dick, then bending to whisper something in his ear. He straightened up and raised his eyebrows at Dick.
“Got it?” he asked.
Still smiling like this was the greatest day of his life, Dick nodded. Raphael returned to his place and picked up his candle. I had no idea what was going to happen next. Usually, summonings are performed only by the inner circle of the Spirit Society, so I had nothing to do with them.
I expected there to be a lot of chanting and other mumbo jumbo. After all, the Spirit Society is big on ritual and formality. Then again, we weren’t the Spirit Society.
In the center of the circle, Dick began to whisper, the words so soft I couldn’t make out anything except a breathy hiss. Even though I couldn’t make out the words, there was a definite cadence to the sounds, and I could tell that Dick repeated the sequence three times.
No bells clanged. No lights flashed. There was no speaking in tongues, nor any sense of a malevolent presence. It was almost anticlimactic.
After the third repetition of the chant, Dick fell silent. Seconds later, he blinked, and I could immediately see that it wasn’t Dick anymore. The vapid, vacant expression had faded, and though it could have been entirely my imagination, I thought I saw a keen intelligence in those formerly dull eyes.
The demon Saul pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked around him. He grinned broadly when he saw Adam, then looked astonished when he caught sight of Dominic.