Divine Temptation (34 page)

Invisible tugs pulled at her arms and legs, edging her forward. She forced a step back and stood squarely on the angel medallion. The tugging stopped, but she felt nips pinching through her coat and at her hair. The demons crouched and stepped closer, and the nips jabbed at her in greater frequency as a growing roar, like rushing wind, swirled inches away. But she wasn’t pulled away from the stone; it seemed to be protecting her from the demons’ summoning powers.

Aedan reverted to his human form. “It didn’t have to be like this,” he said, his voice again smooth and enticing. “It still doesn’t. I can make all these horrible creatures disappear with a snap of my fingers, and you and I can carry on as we wish.” Maggie stood resolute. “Or,” he continued, “you’ve got these guys as your babysitters for the rest of your human life.”

As the creatures crept closer, their force became stronger. Maggie clamped her eyes shut, and even though she expected no answer, she prayed. She asked forgiveness for her willful disobedience and for mercy to be shown to the world.

“Lean back. Rest in him.”

This time she realized the voice had come from within. And she wanted to trust it. But leaning back would mean moving away from the medallion and getting swept up in the demons’ cyclone. It would mean relinquishing her desire to cling to the stone’s protection and instead trust this unseen voice. It would mean freedom. She could give up her struggle to choose and instead leave her fate in God’s hands.

Clamping her eyes shut, she inhaled and leaned back. Immediately, the swirl of air surrounding the medallion caught her up, and high-pitched whooping erupted from the lawn. Despite her fear, Maggie relaxed her muscles, accepting that whatever happened to her would be the Lord’s will. She wasn’t lifted or brought closer to the celebrating demons. Her feet held fast to the stone.

The burning in her abdomen boiled to an unbearable heat. All at once, the triumphant whoops went silent and Aedan let out a wretched cry. Maggie screamed as scorching pain ripped through her, but kept her eyes closed and lifted her arms over her head, giving glory to her Heavenly Father.

And then all went silent.

Chapter 24

S
OMETHING
N
EARBY
B
EEPED
. The mechanical noise was the only thing Maggie could focus on. Everything else remained in a dark haze, her thoughts disconnected. During her more lucid moments, she became frustrated with this state of helplessness. But eventually, the internal voice that had spoken to her in the forest returned, encouraging her to relent on her tightened grip, to trust the power she’d been praying to most of her life, to surrender to a deep sleep.

Her next awareness came in the form of a familiar blend of scents that she struggled to place. Floral and musk. Freesia and…Carl. Her heavy eyelids lifted to see his profile as he stood by the window, next to a vase overflowing with a vibrant garden of stems and petals. Even from that angle, his face looked haggard, with creases of worry carved into his forehead and around his mouth. She let her eyes close again, and the next time she opened them, he was gone.

“Hey, nice of you to join us,” a young woman in scrubs said, her dimples going deep with her wide smile.

Maggie’s return to consciousness brought with it ice chips and a tray of hospital food, lots of questions from the doctor and nurses about how she was feeling, and then more questions from a detective who was attempting to piece together what had happened in the woods that night. Her answers were honest; she remembered very little. Only that she’d been frightened, she wasn’t sure why, and she’d gone to see Father Tom. At the edges of her mind, she recalled flames and a glimpse of the enraged monsignor. After that there were creatures and sensations that could only have been in her dreams. All of it felt like a dream.

“Can’t Father Tom tell you what was real and what wasn’t?” Maggie asked.

The detective frowned and glanced toward the nurse. “Does she have any family here or friends that can talk to her?”

“Her ex-husband’s been here for most of the time since she was brought in yesterday morning. He had to leave for a few hours but wanted us to call when she woke, so he’ll probably be back soon.”

“What do you mean ‘talk to her’?” Maggie pushed herself up to sit, but was silenced by a sharp jab in her abdomen. Settling back into her pillow, she attempted to manage the pain with deep breaths—spurring the recall of another memory. Something horrible had happened, but as soon as her mind grasped onto a sliver of detail, it slipped away. Tilting her head to glare at the detective, she asked, “What happened out there?”

“The investigation isn’t complete, but as best we can tell, you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He closed his notebook and left, and the nurse encouraged Maggie to relax, giving her something for her pain.

Maggie slipped back into a light sleep, and was roused from her nap by Carl gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

“Nice to see those eyes again,” he said, the gentleness in his deep voice cascading over her.

“Where’s Father Tom? Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” Her drowsy eyes swept around the bright room, and she saw that she and Carl were alone.

He reached with his free arm to slide a chair over and sat in it, taking her closest hand into both of his and leaning his elbows on the mattress so he could press his lips to one of her knuckles and then onto the next. “Can you let me enjoy having you back first? Just for a moment?”

His blue eyes were soft, almost like liquid, and Maggie’s hand tightened inside his. “Please?” she whispered. “Tell me.”

“He’s gone, Mags. The night you went to see him, he got caught up in some sort of satanic ritual. Victimized. Burned.”

“Burned?” The priest’s screeching rang through her memory. “Why?
Why!”

“Shh,” Carl murmured. “If this going to upset you—”

“Upset me? Of course this is going to upset me!” She tried to wrench her hand from Carl’s grip so she could push herself up, but he held fast, and when a nurse appeared in the doorway, he nodded her off.

“If you want me to tell you the rest, you’ve got to promise you’ll remain calm.”

“Fine.” She huffed, quelling her temper but quickly realizing that she preferred rage to her swelling sadness. “He’s dead?”

“Yes. And the monsignor too. They actually think that’s why the cretins came here. Turns out the monsignor has a background in dealing with the occult.”

Maggie stayed silent. This piece of information was something she knew. Because of the…demon. Remnants of her memory began to take shape. She clamped her eyelids shut, and Carl joined her in silence for several moments before speaking again, his tone cautious and his voice low.

“There’s something I haven’t informed anyone else of yet,” he said. “I wanted to speak to you about it first. When I called you Sunday, the night this all happened, you said you’d had a, eh,
guest
. Was that true? Did he have anything at all to do with this?”

She creased her forehead and kept her eyes resolutely closed as she recalled the conversation. Suddenly, the pieces fit together and she remembered everything. But how could she even begin to explain any of it to Carl? She needed Evan.

The nurse stepped into the room. “Excuse me, Ms. Brock, you have another visitor.”

A tall, slender man in a dark woolen overcoat appeared in the doorway. Below his coat Maggie noted denim, and despite her grief, she smiled and almost laughed at seeing her angel dressed this way. Evan’s pale eyes, concentrated only on her, were earnest, but they sparked at her grin.

“This is him, I take it,” Carl grunted, sitting back in his chair and dropping Maggie’s hand.

“Oh, yes, I mean no,” Maggie said, her eyes flicking between the two. “Carl, this is Evan. Evan, Carl.”

Evan nodded his greeting and kept his hands around the small cluster of holly he held. An agitated silence fell upon the room, and when Maggie’s attention wandered in Carl’s direction, he locked his eyes on hers. Through her steady gaze, she attempted to assure him that Evan was trustworthy, but she could see by the tensed crinkle at the corners of her ex-husband’s eyes that he only half believed her.

“I’ll let you two talk,” Carl finally said. “But I’m going to be right outside the door. Are you feeling well enough for me to bring Kirsten and Liam by later?”

“Yes, please!” Maggie said. “Are they okay? Have they been scared?”

“A bit. But the doctors have never listed you as in critical condition so I didn’t see the need to freak them out any more than they already are by what happened to the priests. They only know you needed to come here as a precautionary measure.”

Maggie nodded as Carl kissed the tips of his fingers and touched them to her forehead. Then he bent down anyhow and pressed his lips there too. Straightening up, he walked around the bed, and repeated, “Right outside the door.” When he passed Evan, he glanced at the small bundle of greenery in the angel’s hands, and then smirked when he purposefully shifted his eyes toward the much larger arrangement perched at the window.

The nurse exited the room after Carl, and as Evan stepped toward Maggie, her eyes travelled over his dark clothing. “Nice getup,” she teased.

His mouth twitched into a grin. “I’m blending.” Stopping next to her bed, he held her gaze, and both of their smiles faded.

“Tell me none of that really happened—the demons, the monsignor, Father…” Her throat clenched and she couldn’t finish.

“It all happened. I’m so sorry, Maggie.” He set the holly on her bedside tray so he could trail his fingertips down the side of her face. She let her eyelids close, and her tears flowed in straight lines down to the pillow. “I can’t explain everything now, not here, but your body has had the time it needed to recover from its trauma, and you’ll be released tomorrow afternoon. I’ll come visit you in the evening.”

“Trauma,” she said, her eyelids lifting. “The spawn. Is it…is it…”

“Gone. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Rest well, and enjoy the reunion with your children.”

When Evan was gone and Carl left to get the kids, Maggie called her sister and talked her out of making a special trip up since they’d be seeing each other soon for Christmas. Then Maggie spoke with her parents, who were relieved to hear their youngest daughter’s voice sound so strong. They’d also be making their annual trip to Chicago for the holidays.

Evan was right, and Maggie was released the next day. The doctors were still unclear about what had happened to her, but concluded that her unconsciousness and loss of memory had been her body’s natural coping mechanism. The reason for her abdominal pain was more confusing, but it had subsided, so they simply told her to see her doctor if it returned, the emergency room if the pain was severe.

Within an hour of arriving home, Maggie received a visitor. “You’ll stop at nothing to get me to cave first, won’t you?” Sharon chided, carrying in a casserole dish covered in tinfoil and a container filled with cookies. “Why do you look so great? Don’t you know you just got home from the hospital? And sit down!”

“I’ve been telling her the same thing,” Carl said.

“Oh, stop it,” Maggie said. “The only thing that happened to me was that I couldn’t handle the situation and blacked out, but I’ve rested and now I’m fine. And I’m so happy you’re here.” The second Sharon had set the food on the counter, Maggie threw her arms around her.

Sharon squeezed back. “You know I love you.”

“I don’t deserve it, but yes, I know. I love you too, and I’m sorry.”

“Guess I should let you ladies kiss and make up in private,” Carl said. “Unless you want me to stay and watch…”

“Goodbye, Carl,” Maggie said, pulling away from her friend and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the ride home and for
everything
. I’ve got it from here.”

Carl said his goodbyes, and then Maggie gestured for her friend to join her on the couch.

“That was an awfully friendly smooch,” Sharon said.

Maggie smiled. “He’s been amazing. We seem to have finally smoothed out all the rough spots—I even spent Thanksgiving with him and Melissa.”

“So he’s still seeing the bimbo?”

“She’s not a bimbo, but yes, they’re still together.” They went on to discuss their daughters’ legal issues, their plans for the upcoming holidays, and inevitably, what had happened in the woods. Maggie stuck to the same story she’d told the police and Sharon informed her that the newspapers were reporting no more signs of the satanic cult in the area. It was assumed that they’d moved on and that the monsignor had been their target.