Demonsense (Demonsense series Book 1)
DEMONSENSE
Sara DeHaven
Copyright © <2015> Sara DeHaven
All rights reserved.
Visit the author’s website at
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, compiled, reverse engineered or stored in or introduced into any storage information and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written consent of Sara DeHaven
Chapter 1
You
can do this
, Bree Jenkins told herself firmly as she walked up the front steps of St. Anselm’s church.
This is insane
, was her next thought as she grasped the cold handle of the door. She froze in mid action, angel on one shoulder, devil on another. Almost literally. Her Demonsense rose like toxic smoke. The child must already be here.
An eight-year-old boy. It was probably the only thing that could have lured her out of hiding. And Dion had known that, known she couldn't say no when a child was involved. The canny bastard had been waiting for a case like this.
The dull Seattle rain went from misting to drizzling, and she forced herself into motion, pulled open the heavy wood door, and entered the church. The smell of dry dust and incense hit her nose, and she sneezed. Father Anselm hovered just inside like a nervous bird, tugging on the stole around his neck. "Jeremy and his foster mother have already arrived," he said in a low voice.
"Is Valerie here?" Bree asked, digging in the pocket of her raincoat. Bingo. She fished out the dried up ball of kleenex, teased it apart and wiped at her nose.
"Not yet. Did you want to meet Jeremy now or wait for your second?"
"I'll wait," Bree answered, heat rising in her face as she shoved the tissue back in her pocket. There was no real reason to wait, she was just scared out of her tiny mind. She wondered how obvious it was, and the answer came to her almost immediately, via her Reader sense. It was there in the way Father Anselm's eyes darted down and to the left, in how he shifted his weight on his feet to move himself just that extra inch away from her. Her own fear was infecting the priest. Which was ridiculous. She wouldn't have been assigned primary on this one if the demon was a big one. Okay, maybe semi-ridiculous. If you weren't afraid of exorcisms, you'd never done one.
Her Demonsense clamored, and she took a deep breath and focused on tucking it away in the back of her brain. She'd need it later, but right now, it was just frazzling her nerves.
An awkward silence fell as they stood in the foyer of the church. Mercifully, the door to the nave was closed. Her stomach filled with acid, knowing a demon was just on the other side of that door.
Possessing a little boy
, she reminded herself, trying to build up some sense of outrage. That was what used to help her overcome the fear. Her hatred of demons was a dense, layered thing, but the horror of Seth's death had blanketed it with a terror just as dense.
"Perhaps we should pray?" Father Anselm asked.
"That would be good."
He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and intoned, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."
Bree's lips moved along with the priest's, but skepticism rang an antiphon in her head.
You don't believe this anymore. God won't protect you.
She tried to recapture the sense of comfort the prayer used to bring, but it remained elusive. And that wasn't good. Faith helped power the magical energy of exorcism spells. It was an ally she was used to having, imperfect though her faith had always been.
Father Anselm had gotten through the Our Father and had just started in on a Hail Mary when Valerie breezed in, rain sparkling in the dark, curly hair framing her face. She was tiny, her head just topping Bree's shoulder. "Oops, sorry to interrupt," she chirped, skidding to a halt.
"No trouble at all, really," Father Anselm said, bending a little at the waist, as if he were speaking to a child.
"I'm Valerie Katzman. I'm guessing you're Father Anselm, and you must be Bree." She stuck her hand out to shake.
"Good to meet you," Bree said automatically as she shook hands, already sizing up her second. A good amount of confidence there, as well as some nervous excitement. Clearly, Valerie hadn't yet been at an exorcism that had gone badly wrong. On balance, Bree decided that was a good thing. Someone ought to be showing a little optimism around here.
Valerie put down her orange messenger bag, and Father Anselm reached for her coat as she shucked it, prompting Bree to get out of hers. She shrugged off her backpack and set in on the floor, then handed over her coat. As the priest went to hang up their wet jackets, she turned to Valerie. "I know we talked on the phone, but I thought it would be a good idea for us to compare notes on equipment and spells just to make sure we're both clear."
"No worries, I've worked with Catholics before," Valerie replied with a smile.
They both bent over their respective bags and laid out their exorcism kits. Bree's was relatively simple. Just her grandmother's gold crucifix, a bottle of holy water, one of salt, and a battered red bible. Bree donned the crucifix as Valerie laid out her shofar, giving the ram's horn an affectionate little pat, a censor full of incense, a purple bic lighter, a silver necklace on a red cord that Valerie helpfully labeled a Haari amulet, and a bundle of candles inscribed with Hebrew characters.
"So that's it, that's my stuff. I generally charge the candles when laying the warding circle around the subject," Valerie said.
"That will be fine," Bree reassured her. "I'd say go ahead with the incense once the demon starts to engage, but hold off with the shofar unless you end up having to take primary. I don't usually work with sound in that way, and I'm afraid it'd distract me."
"Works for me. So, shall we start warding?" She pulled a black marker from her pocket and got to work, drawing warding symbols on her palms to inhibit the demon from possessing her if it got free. They wouldn't work on a truly powerful demon, but this one was in the low to mid power range, as advertised. Bree could tell that through the door. Bree took the marker from Valerie and did her own palms, triggering the warding spell with a little inward twist of power. It was familiar and strange at the same time. She'd been avoiding power use for months.
"Ready?" Valerie asked her.
Bree swallowed, and turned to look for Father Anselm. He was just returning from wherever he'd gotten off to with their coats, cassock flapping around his legs as he hurried up. His narrow face was flushed. "I think we're ready to go," Bree told him. "Do you have any questions?"
Father Anselm gave Valerie an anxious look. "Would you be offended if my prayers called on Jesus or Mary?"
Valerie shook her head. "Not at all, Father. The spells all weave together on an energetic level. The words don't really matter, except in how they work for you emotionally. It's all about raising the energy."
Ah, the enthusiasm of the newbie. Dion had assured her Valerie had taken primary before, but now Bree wished she had asked how often. She waited for a pause in Valerie's giddy rush of information to say, "We'd better not wait any longer. The boy and his foster mother are already here."
Valerie stopped talking, and a distracted look appeared on her face. "Okay, now I can feel the demon."
Well, most people's Demonsense wasn't as strong as hers. Dion was always insisting she'd gone high power on Demonsense and Exorcist powers, but Bree didn't want to get tested. She'd finagled almost a year and a half's respite from exorcisms after being widowed, and that would be well and truly ended if word got out she was high power.
Bree led the way to the door of the sanctuary and opened it. Apparently, it had been blocking a certain amount of sound, because a child's screech greeted her immediately. She could see the boy and his foster mother in a pew near the front of the church, where they were engaged in some kind of struggle. Mostly likely, the boy was trying to leave. She shouldn't have left them unattended for so long.
She strode down the aisle, starting at last to feel just a bit like her old self. She approached the pair and said, "Hi, I'm Bree. I'm here to help you out."
The woman looked up at her with a face lined with strain. She had the boy pinned with both hands gripping his upper arms. The boy was a round-faced towhead with hazel eyes much like Bree's, tending a bit more towards green than brown. The demon was there in his gaze, though not at the surface. "I'm Carla, and this here is Jeremy," the woman said. She was slight in build, and her frizzy brown hair was pulled back into a serviceable ponytail. Valerie introduced herself as well, voice subdued.
Bree knelt down to put herself closer to Jeremy's level. "I know you've been having some troubles, Jeremy. Something inside you is making you act up, making you be mean to other people. It's something called a demon. Father Anselm and Valerie and I know how to help kids with that."
"Don't want no help," Jeremy mumbled, eyes downcast.
The demon had receded in a futile attempt to hide its presence. "I know all this might be scary, but it's kind of like going to the doctor. Not a bunch of fun, but you feel a lot better once you get the medicine."
Bree put out a finger, gently raised his chin and looked into his eyes, trying to connect with him, whatever of him was still left with a demon taking up much of his consciousness. Her Reader sense was at high pitch, feeding her data and coming up with patterns. His gaze slid away immediately, and she didn't think that was due to the demon. He was rigid in Carla's grip, his body canted away from her even while one of his hands clutched the hem of her sweater. A trauma history of some kind, that went without saying for just about any foster child, but it went deep with this one. Father Anselm had told her some of the boy's story. He'd been difficult to manage even before the possession, with outbursts of rage, physical aggression towards other children, and a tendency toward cruelty to animals. Demons didn't go after children often, usually finding a richer diet in violently inclined adults, but children like this were vulnerable to demon possession. There was so much pain for the demon to work with.
Bree stood back up and addressed Carla. "We're going to be working in front of the altar. We'll make a circle around Jeremy with candles, and Father Anselm will be there with him. We'll be doing some prayers, and then we'll help the demon come out of Jeremy."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Carla asked.
"Just be here where Jeremy can see you when it's all over. Once we get started, though, I'll want you in the back of the church. No matter what you see or hear, don't approach until we tell you it's over. As you know, the process isn't without danger. But as I'm sure Father Anselm told you..." Bree hesitated, not sure how much to say in front of Jeremy. She didn't want to frighten him more than he already was.
"I know there's more risk in doing nothing. I just hope all this is real. He's been through so much already." Carla's face went soft as she glanced down at the back of the boy's head.
"It's real, all right," Valerie piped up. "But don't you worry, it's going to be fine."
Unless it's not fine
, Bree thought grimly to herself. There was a higher chance of the demon killing the host when they possessed a child. They tended to overfeed on children.
Bree paced out the circle, then Valerie laid out her candles while Bree set up her supplies facing the altar. Father Anselm spoke quietly with Carla. The demon was quiescent, the boy still, but that would change in short order. Finally, things were set up to Bree's satisfaction, and she told Father Anselm, "It's time."
