Corruption Read online

  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” I said carefully. “We need to find out what’s wrong with her.”

  “If you had the power to heal her, your spell would have done so,” Father Salvatore said calmly. “This is a matter of faith.”

  “I’m sorry, Father, but how is faith going to help her?” Andy asked.

  The priest gave Andy a small smile, that was a hair’s breadth away from condescension. “I do not expect you to understand, Agent Bradford. But Laurie has been dealt a severe blow. The exorcists who tried to help her are dead. Anyone would feel responsible for that.”

  “You think she’s not waking up because she’s ashamed?” I asked.

  “It’s possible. Regardless, I believe the best thing we can do for Laurie, is to get her home. We will take care of her.”

  “There is another possibility,” I said suddenly.

  Father Salvatore clasped his hands in front of him. “And what is that?”

  “Lorelei started a cult.” I pointed at the black cards. “Do you know anything about that?”

  “I do.” Thomas stood, slowly as if he were in pain. His eyes were red from the tears he’d cried for his friend, and he turned away from Patrick as if it took a great effort. “I never met them, but Laurie told me about them. She told me she was fighting to save their souls. I guess one or two of them were always hanging around their house.”

  “She knew Lorelei had started a cult and she didn’t report her?” I frowned. “The Ministry of Deliverance would have stepped in if they’d known.”

  “Laurie said there was no danger. She said it was nothing she couldn’t handle.” Thomas clenched his hands into fists as if resisting the urge to return to his friend’s side.

  “But so far, she hadn’t succeeded,” I pressed. “The cult is still active.”

  Thomas nodded.

  “Kylie’s here,” Peasblossom announced.

  I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t felt her jump off my shoulder, but now she was back on the windowsill, staring down toward the parked SUV.

  “All right, Kylie will take care of Patrick.”

  “No,” Thomas said. “There’s nothing Other about this. Patrick is human.”

  “Thomas, I know you’re in pain,” I said quietly. “And I am sorry. But I need your help.”

  Thomas barked out a laugh, a sharp, humorless sound. “My help? With what?”

  “I don’t think Patrick killed the twins on his own.”

  That got his attention. Both Father Salvatore and Thomas studied me more closely now.

  “What do you mean?” Thomas asked.

  “She’s got a point,” Paul agreed. “We should go to Laurie’s house, meet the members of this cult. If Lorelei put in the effort of starting it, then there’s no way she would vanish without telling them.”

  Andy straightened, nodding as if he’d picked up the same train of thought. “So if she told the cult she was leaving, then we’ll know she’s not lying about wanting the exorcism. But if she didn’t, if the cult has any plans in the coming days, weeks, months…”

  “Then we’ll know she never intended to leave,” I finished. I hesitated. “I’d be grateful if both of you could come with us.”

  “All right.” Thomas fisted his hands at his sides before taking a step toward me, away from Patrick. “We’ll go.” He cleared his throat. “Your friend will take good care of Patrick?”

  “Yes, I will.”

  We all turned to find Kylie standing in the doorway. Jacob was at her side, but the incubus wasn’t wearing the grin from before. Instead, he looked somber, sympathetic.

  I braced myself as I faced Kylie. Knowing why she was cold toward me didn’t make it any easier. I was pleasantly surprised when she approached me first, her face not warm, but not unfriendly.

  “What happened?” she asked, using the quiet voice people used in funeral homes.

  “This is the boy who shot the twins,” I answered in the same tone. “We tried to talk to him, but he was in a fragile state, and…” I shot a glare at the demon lying unconscious in the chair. “She pushed him over the edge. He shot himself.”

  “He was my friend,” Thomas spoke up.

  Kylie turned to the paladin in training, and her face softened. She looked at him with the open, friendly attitude she’d had with me when we’d first met. Before she’d asked me to kill her.

  “We’ll see he’s treated with respect,” she promised. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Thomas’ eyes glistened with more tears. He stuck out his chin. “He’ll have a Catholic burial.”

  I looked at Father Salvatore. The older man nodded.

  We left Kyle and Jacob to handle Patrick’s body, and Andy carried Lorelei to the SUV. The sleep spell I’d hit her with wouldn’t last long, and by the time we were fastening her into the seatbelt, her eyelids were fluttering.

  She woke with Andy holding her in the seat and me leaned over her fighting to get the seatbelt to lock into place. I heard her sharp intake of breath and jerked to the side as she reached for my hair. Peasblossom zipped into the air in front of her face, a metal cocktail sword held a hair’s breadth from her right eye.

  “Reach for my witch again,” she said coldly, “and I’ll skewer your eyeball like a cocktail cherry.”

  Lorelei held still, careful not to lean into the sharp point. “You used magic against me.”

  “With your permission,” I reminded her. “I wanted to see if Laurie would rise if I put you to sleep. No harm was done to you.”

  “Did she rise?” Lorelei asked.

  My stomach rolled with unease. Lorelei’s irises were glittering with red specks again. I didn’t like how pleased she would be with my answer. “No.”

  A smile slid over Lorelei’s lips. “Perhaps I will not require an exorcism after all.”

  I slammed the door shut.

  The paladin and the demon lived at the edge of Cleveland, and the drive gave Lorelei plenty of time to flirt with Andy and Paul, alternatively trying to crawl into Paul’s lap, and reaching to stroke Andy’s hair from the backseat. Hearing Laurie still hadn’t roused despite our efforts had left the demon in a grand mood, and I half expected her to request we stop for champagne and a week-long orgy.

  Peasblossom leaned into my ear, close enough that when she spoke, it raised gooseflesh on the right side of my body. “Things are working out awfully well for the demon.”

  “Suspiciously so,” I agreed under my breath. “We need to figure out why Laurie isn’t rising.”

  Peasblossom pointed up ahead. “Maybe her cult will give us a clue.”

  Father Salvatore turned his beige Honda into the driveway of a two-story red brick building with white shutters. I looked up and down the street, noting that the neighborhood was nice enough that every house had a decent-sized lawn, but not so nice that the buildings weren’t packed close together with scarcely enough room between them for Andy to lie down.

  I got out of the car in time to avoid the last half of Lorelei’s final innuendo and slammed the door behind me. The uncharitable thought came to me that if we’d taken my car instead of Andy’s SUV, I could have made her ride in the trunk.

  Father Salvatore and Thomas met us at the start of the thin stone walkway that led to the large front door. The older priest stared at Lorelei, his brown eyes studying her from behind his glasses as if searching for some sign of Laurie. Lorelei made a kissing face at him and winked.

  Thomas gritted his teeth and took a menacing step toward her. “Smile while you can, demon. Your time of judgment will come.”

  “Apparently, it’s here now,” Lorelei noted. She glanced from me to Thomas. “I’m already guilty as far as you’re concerned.”

  “You would claim to be innocent then?” Thomas scoffed.

  I stepped between them before Lorelei could respond. “That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? If Lorelei has crossed the line, then we’ll know soon enough.” I pointed to the ground beside the sidewalk, in fro
nt of the door to the house. “Thomas, why don’t you draw a circle. Lorelei can stay out here while we go inside.”

  “You will not leave me out here while you go inside my house.” Lorelei marched past me to the three steps leading up to the porch. “This is my house—my judgment day. You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you inside my home alone?”

  I made no move to stop her. Now wasn’t the time or the place for a magical showdown. “You will stay out here, inside a circle, or I will call the Vanguard now and tell them you’ve started a cult.”

  “Go ahead,” Lorelei snapped, whirling around on the top step. “I’ll tell them how culturally insensitive you are. There is nothing wrong with gathering my followers. It’s a social group, whatever you want to call it.”

  “If you’ve set yourself up to be worshipped, then you’re violating the Accord,” I said evenly.

  “Accord?” Andy asked.

  I glanced at him. “There are a few rules that all races have to abide by. Not many, but a few. One of the biggest is the rule that forbids any creature from the Otherworld from setting themselves up to be worshipped.”

  “They are friends who adore me,” Lorelei responded, crossing her arms.

  “One of them is dead. If there’s been even one more death among your ‘friends,’ then I can make a case for human endangerment. You’ll be imprisoned.”

  “And so will Laurie,” Lorelei taunted.

  “Laurie would rather give up her freedom than see you ruin lives.”

  Lorelei rolled her eyes. “Pathetic. And here I’d hoped I’d have more of an influence on her.”

  “Never,” Father Salvatore said firmly. “Those who dedicate their lives to God have a strength you could not dream of.”

  “Who are you trying to convince?” Lorelei sneered. “Me? Or yourself?”

  Again, the rosary came out, and Father Salvatore prayed, his fingers sliding over the beads as his lips moved. Lorelei sauntered down the stairs. She smirked at the priest as she passed, but I noticed she gave him a wide berth.

  “Do you need salt?” I asked Thomas.

  He glared at Lorelei as he reached into his pocket. “No, I brought my own.” He lowered his hand to his side, and I noticed that he had a small brown leather bag tied to his belt. He withdrew a smaller bag and reached inside, withdrawing a handful of rock salt.

  Andy watched with interest as Thomas walked a circle around Lorelei, chanting as he trailed salt between him and the demon. Lorelei kept her arms crossed, her chin raised in defiance, but there was no mistaking the crimson glitter of anger in her eyes. Her jaw tightened as Thomas finished the circle and closed it with a tap against the salt line and a final blessing.

  “What does the circle do?” Andy asked. He slipped his notebook out of his pocket and clicked his pen open.

  “It will hold Lorelei out here so she can’t interfere,” I said. “If she has started a cult, they’d be stronger with her than without her.” I didn’t add that I wanted to avoid Lorelei running off while we were searching the house. Laurie wasn’t waking, and if Lorelei believed she would never wake, then she’d be disinclined to remain here with us and risk me or the two priests attempting to do something about that.

  “So that circle will hold her, like a prison?”

  “It’s a ritual circle,” I said. “Tossing a hula hoop around her wouldn’t accomplish the same thing.”

  “Can anyone draw a ritual circle or do you need magical ability to do it?”

  I smiled at Andy, pleased that he’d asked. “I can teach you. It would be a useful skill for you to have.”

  Andy made another note, then slipped his pen and notebook into his pocket. “I’m free tomorrow.”

  “If you’re finished with your social calendar,” Lorelei growled. “Perhaps you could get on with it.”

  I ignored her, but I closed my hand into a fist, feeling the warm pulse of energy from my ring, visualizing the glowing armor it projected over my skin. I called up more magic, and touched Peasblossom, giving her a spell to hold, just in case.

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  I went up the porch stairs first, followed by Thomas, then Paul then Andy. Father Salvatore remained behind to make certain none of Lorelei’s followers released her from the circle prematurely. Peasblossom stood on my shoulder, glowing with pink light. The front door was unlocked, but the house was dark. Black shades over the windows kept out the sunlight, leaving the house in gloom. The light that flowed in behind us through the open door cast a soft illumination on a polished wood floor, and walls decorated with small mirrors and a few framed paintings I couldn’t quite make out. A large sofa sat against the wall to my left, but thicker darkness to the right hinted at an open door to another dark room.

  The wood floor creaked under my weight. Something darted in front of me, crossing from one end of the room to another, vanishing from sight as quickly as I registered its presence. Something large and furry, with claws that scratched the wood floor.

  “Peasblossom?” I whispered.

  “I’m not sensing evil,” she answered.

  Andy, Paul, and the paladin priest filed in behind me, shutting the door after them. The wind shifted, and a breeze from inside the house swept over us. I gagged and clapped a hand over my mouth.

  “Ew!” Peasblossom dove into my shirt, burrowing away from the nauseating cloud.

  Behind me, I heard the men reacting to the stench. Thankfully, no one threw up.

  “Our Heavenly Father,” Thomas murmured. “Lend us your Divine Grace so that we may persevere in this house of sin. Drive away the putrid presence of those who turn away from your mercy and love.”

  The stench faded, and the sounds of scurrying feet went with it. More than one set of clawed, scurrying feet. Whatever had crossed my path before had still been nearby, waiting. And not alone. But Thomas’ prayer drove them out, along with whatever that horrible smell had been.

  “Thank you, Thomas,” I murmured.

  “Thank the Lord,” Thomas responded immediately.

  “Peasblossom, get out of my shirt.”

  Peasblossom grumbled, but did as I asked. We continued through the room, and as I approached the doorway, I realized it led down to a basement. I paused, aware of a low chanting creeping up the stairway. “This is it.”

  I eased the door open. Darkness pooled at the bottom of the stairs, but a faint orange glow softened the edge. Candlelight.

  “Let me go first,” Thomas whispered, his mouth only an inch away from my ear.

  I jumped and almost fell down the stairs. I caught myself on the doorway, my heart pounding so hard I couldn’t hear the chanting anymore.

  Thomas didn’t apologize. I pressed my lips together, but stepped to the side to let him go first. He crept down the stairs and I followed.

  The basement spread out like a scene from a horror movie. Across the basement, two men in dark reddish brown robes flanked a low cot that held a girl, bound and gagged. The gag pressed her short brown hair to her face, and her eyes were wide. Candlelight illuminated her terrified face, and soon I saw why.

  The figure on the right held a butcher’s knife, and as we watched, he raised it in the air over the girl as if ready to plunge it into her chest. The other held a skull, and as he chanted, he raised it toward the ceiling, mirroring the motions of the figure across from him.

  Andy drew his gun and aimed it at the figure with the knife. “FBI, get away from the girl.”

  As soon as the last word left his lips, Andy hissed in a sharp breath. Metal hit the concrete floor as he dropped the gun, and an retina-searing orange glow caught my eye. Andy’s gun glowed bright orange on the floor like something spit out of the heart of a blacksmith’s forge.

  A canine snarl followed by a long, furry body bolted past Andy, leaping over his gun and barreling into the robed figure. It was Paul in his Tasmanian tiger form. He bared his teeth at the figure as he stood on his chest, claws flexing into the thick material of his robe.
The candlelight illuminated the man’s face. Early forties, brown curly hair with a short mustache and beard. His eyes widened in shock, but it didn’t keep him from raising his hand, angling the knife toward the skinwalker.

  “Paul, watch ou—”

  I fell, my words cutting off in a sharp squeak of surprise. I sailed off the floor as if I’d jumped, but I kept rising farther and faster than I should have. I had no time to get my bearings before my head hit one of the wooden beams along the basement ceiling. Cobwebs covered my face, and a surge of adrenaline shot through my veins as my arachnophobia overwhelmed me with images of all the creepy crawlies that hid in the cracks and crevices of the basement ceiling.

  My body tumbled to the side, my back slamming into the same ceiling beam, and I scrambled to my feet, barely able to breathe through my fear, hands swiping at my face, trying to get rid of the cobwebs. I danced in place, afraid of standing in the cobwebs, convinced the spiders were racing up my legs. In some part of my mind, I knew that everything in our half of the basement had fallen through the air as if gravity had been reversed. Andy’s gun sizzled against the wood, and he and the two priests struggled to their feet.

  A scream of pain reached me as Paul’s jaws closed over victim’s arm, sinking into the thick robe. I raised a shaking hand as the other figure dropped the skull and tensed as if he’d tackle Paul.

  “Aquila!” I yelled.

  Power pulsed down my arm, exploding from my fingertips in a burst of blue energy. The magic took shape as it shot into the air, taking on the graceful, sloping lines of an eagle in flight. A second later the glow faded, and a real eagle dove for the two men, screeching and slashing at them with its talons. The man on the ground beneath Paul screamed, dropping his knife to cover his head with his arm. The man who’d dropped the skull bent over and fell to his knees.

  Or at least, that’s what I thought he’d done. Then the robe kept falling to pool on the floor, and a greenish blue gas rose into the air. I had a fleeting glimpse at glowing brown eyes in the mist, and then it flowed up the stairs and out of the basement.