Memory's Door (A Well Spring Novel) (17 page)

Brandon walked with Marcus to their cars. “You okay, Professor? Weirded out about the Wolf? Or still dealing with the whole thinking you might be switching back and forth between realities thing?”

“I’ve put that behind me. I don’t have the bandwidth to analyze it at this point.”

“Okay, way to go. So it’s this going after the Wolf thing that’s bugging you?”

“In a sense, yes, but I have another concern that is a more imminent threat that is occupying the vast majority of my prefrontal cortex.”

“I’m guessing that’s part of the brain.”

“In rudimentary terms it’s the area of the brain where we make decisions.”

Brandon scrunched up his face and pressed his finger into his cheek. “What does
rudimentary
mean?”

“It means—”

“I’m kidding, Professor.” Brandon laughed and punched Marcus playfully in the arm. “I did go to school for a few years, you know.” As they walked on, Brandon said, “So what’s the big decision?”

“Tomorrow night a young man who is dating Abbie is coming over for dinner for the second time.”

“And you’re trying to decide whether to be nice to him or not.”

“Yes.” Marcus stopped and turned toward Brandon. “How did you assess that?”

Brandon smiled. “Unlike you, I was a teenager once and had a lot of those dinners where the dad didn’t like me. Or thought he didn’t like me just because I was male.”

“I assure you, I was a teenager once.”

Brandon laughed again and shook his head. “No, I mean the meeting-a-girl’s-dad thing. You told me you didn’t have to face that gauntlet very often in high school.”

“Then I misled you. I faced it far too frequently.” Marcus turned and continued toward his car as he recalled a few times where he thought his date’s father was going to take out a shotgun. “You’re right. I should lighten up. He’s a nice kid from what I’ve seen and Abbie seems quite enamored with him.”

“Then be nice.”

“Agreed.” Marcus frowned. “But still, I would ask that you pray for the dinner and for my attitude toward Romeo once you wake up.”

“Done. And don’t worry, Prof. It’ll be fine.”

Brandon watched Marcus pull away as he sat in his car and pictured himself with a daughter Abbie’s age. If he did have a girl he’d feel exactly like Marcus. Because if this kid coming over to the professor’s house was anything like Brandon was in high school, Marcus should be worried.

TWENTY

M
ARCUS STOOD AT THE WINDOW OF HIS DEN ON
S
ATURDAY
night looking down on the street, waiting for Calen to pull up in his beat-up Ford truck. Marcus glanced at his watch. Three minutes to six. Calen would be on time. He was a good kid. Which should make Marcus happy. But he wasn’t. Fourteen was too young for Abbie to be dating.

At 5:59 Calen’s truck chugged to a stop in front of the house and he stepped out, ran his hand over his hair, and stared at Marcus’s house. The kid reached into his pocket, smiled, and pulled something out but kept his fist closed around the object.

Irritated. That was the emotion Marcus felt toward the kid. But he shouldn’t. On the surface there was no good reason. Which irritated him more. Calen made Abbie happy and that made Abbie happier with Marcus.

Calen put his hand back in his pocket and released whatever object it was he’d held. For an unknown reason the movement reminded Marcus of someone, but he couldn’t determine who.

Marcus went to his desk and prayed hard for five minutes, then strode out of his den to the top of the stairs and took two long breaths. He made a slow descent, the feeling of unease intensifying with each step. He felt like he’d slid into a gladiatorial arena where he had no sword and no shield.

Abbie stood in the entryway, her arms wrapped around Calen,
his wrapped around her. She turned and spotted Marcus. “Hey, Daddy, Calen is here.”

“That I can see.” Marcus reached the bottom of the stairs just as Kat stepped into the entryway.

Kat held out both hands and gripped Calen’s. “Great to have you here again, Calen.”

“Thanks, fun to be here.” He smiled at all of them.

Marcus stepped forward. “Before dinner I want to have a brief chat with Calen.”

Calen pointed at himself, eyes mock wide. “You want to chat with me?”

“Yes.”

“Sure, sounds good.” Calen grinned at Abbie and winked.

“Play fair, Dad.” She poked him in the side and smiled.

Marcus stared at Abbie but didn’t answer. “It didn’t rain for once so why don’t we go out back?”

He walked down the hall, through the kitchen, and through the back door onto the patio. Calen followed. Seconds after they settled into two of the patio chairs out back, Kat stepped outside with a glass of strawberry lemonade in each hand. “How can men talk without something to drink while they do so?”

Calen stood and gave a light bow as he accepted the drink from Kat.

“You don’t have to stand—”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Amber. Thanks for the drink.”

“You are entirely welcome.” Kat turned and gave Marcus an isn’t-he-a-catch smile.

Marcus whispered a prayer to himself as Calen sat back in his chair.
Show me what I cannot see and bring your truth.

A flash of darkness shimmered across Calen and in the next instant Marcus knew what the object was that resided in the young man’s back pocket. But was it him?

“So did you have something in particular you wanted to talk to me about, or is this just a chance to get to know each other a
little better since Abbie and I have been getting to know each other a lot better?”

“My hat is off to you.” Marcus set his drink on the armrest of his chair and leaned forward, his gaze drilling Calen. “You’re a master, Calen. I’m impressed. It took me a long time to figure you out. In fact the equation didn’t fall into place till just now.”

“And what is that?”

Marcus glanced at the kitchen windows. “I know what you are.”

“A teenager in love?”

“No. You took an object out of your pocket as you approached my house. I know what it is.”

Calen reached into the same pocket he had five minutes ago and pulled it out, but kept his fist closed. “You think you know, huh?”

“Show it to me.”

“You’re sure? You really think it will help the situation?”

“Show me.”

Even though Marcus knew what was coming it still sent a chill down his back when Calen held out his fist and uncurled his fingers one at a time to reveal a gold coin. He flipped it in the air and caught it on the back of his hand and then spun it around his fingers just as he had done in Reece’s backyard almost a year ago.

A sensation of ice spread down Marcus’s arms, down his legs. Zennon. Sitting three feet from him. The demon who had tracked and assaulted each of the Warriors Riding a year ago. The one who had murdered Reece’s wife and daughter. Who had appeared in Marcus’s class at the U-Dub, showed up in Dana’s office, and almost killed his daughter Jayla. Who had destroyed Reece’s eyes ten months ago.

Calm. He had to stay focused. Act in the power of the Spirit. No fear. “Hello, Zennon. We knew you’d show up sooner or later.”

“Congratulations.” Calen set the coin on his armrest and slowly clapped three times like the gong of a grandfather clock striking three. “Now it’s my turn to be impressed. You figured it out much quicker than I imagined you would. When did you first suspect?”

“In retrospect, the first night I met you. But as I said, I wasn’t certain till a moment ago.”

“I’ve been looking forward to the instant when you realized it was me.”

“Sure you have.”

Zennon didn’t answer.

Marcus leaned forward and pressed into the fear trying to tear at his mind. “And it explains who Simon is as well.”

“Does it?” Zennon rolled his finger around the edge of the gold coin but didn’t take his gaze off Marcus. “He’s not exactly like us.”

“What is he then? Who is he? What part does he have in this?”

“Let him tell you.”

“I’d like you to.”

“Well, to paraphrase Mick Jagger from many years ago, we can’t always get the things we desire, but if we try with diligence, we can often acquire what we need.” Calen grinned and played an air guitar. “What, you’re not a Rolling Stones fan? Reece is. You should borrow a few of his CDs sometime.”

Adrenaline pumped through Marcus. “I need you to listen to me very closely.”

“Hmm?” Calen picked up the coin and massaged it between his thumb and fingers.

“You’re going to walk into my house and tell Abbie your relationship is over. You’re not going to contact her from this point forward. You’re going to leave this host body you’re in and never bother Abbie or Kat or Jayla in any way, shape, or form ever again.”

“That is certainly one option.”

“That’s the
only
option.”

“Do you really think so?” Calen flipped the coin from one hand to the other. “I would respectfully disagree. I say there’s another option, which is that I continue to worm my way into your daughter’s and your wife’s and your other daughter’s lives till I have them precisely where I want them.”

“You take option two, I’ll tell her exactly what you are.”

“That’s your plan?” Calen leaned forward and downed half his lemonade. “I think that strategy is fraught with problems. Why? Because Abbie won’t believe you, will she? Her first love, the boy who treats her like a princess, is a demon?

“The senior who treats her with more attention and tenderness than her father ever has just so happens to be a spiritual being out to destroy her and her family? She’ll buy that trinket? Nay, I think not. She’d look at you like you’re crazy and trying to steal from her the happiest season of her life.”

A smoldering anger rose in Marcus. “She’ll believe me.”

“Really?” Calen pointed toward the house. “I think you’re delusional. I think you’d have a hard time convincing Kat about what I am, let alone Abbie.”

“You’re going to leave and you’re never going to see Abbie again if I have to be with her twenty-four hours a day.”

“Okay, that’s one option—and I won’t even comment on how stupid that sounds since you have a job and your precious Warriors to attend to. Do it. Ban her from seeing me. Forbid her from texting me or talking on the phone. Make her swear to avoid me at school. Go to the principal and tell her you need a restraining order against me because I’ve . . . well, I’ve been . . . wow, nothing is coming to mind at the moment. Model student. Youth group leader . . . athlete, good grades, hmmm, any ideas?” Calen laughed.

“Sure, you can forbid her from seeing me, but I’m thinking that won’t do wonders for your relationship.” Calen shook his head. “So sad. Just when the ice was starting to crack between you two.”

Marcus’s mind raced with ways to respond. But each of them seemed preposterous. Zennon, or Calen, was right. Abbie wouldn’t believe him. Neither would Kat.

“Just curious.” Calen’s eyes grew dark. “Does it bother you more to realize I’ve had my tongue down your daughter’s throat, or that there’s nothing you can do to stop me from doing it again?”

Marcus gripped the arms of his chair hard and came forward, his heart pounding.

“Would it bother you if I told you about the times I’ve touched her in areas I don’t think would be pleasing for you to hear about?”

“You’re lying.”

“She’s weakening. And she’s going to give in very soon. I have extensive experience in these matters. I’m sure you can trust me on that.”

Marcus flung his glass of lemonade to the patio and it shattered. A moment later the back door was flung open and Abbie lurched onto the deck. “Dad! What happened?” She glanced back and forth between him and Calen.

“Go back inside, Abbie. Now!”

“What is going on?”

“Nothing. We’re fine. Calen and I have to conclude our conversation and then we’ll be back inside.”

Calen mouthed,
I love you.
Abbie smiled and returned the sentiment.

Calen glanced at the broken glass strewn across the patio. “In the second book of Timothy it says God gives Christians a spirit of self-control. Pity they skipped you on handout day.”

He stood, sauntered over to one of the smaller pieces of glass, bent over, and picked it up. “This would hurt if someone swallowed it. I wouldn’t want that to happen to Abbie.” He tossed it in the air and watched it spin in the fading sunlight, sending off tiny reflections of light. “No, I’ve grown fond of Abbie.” He glared at Marcus. “But Jayla? I barely know her. If she swallowed it, I don’t think it would bother me at all.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Calen’s thin smile grew into a grin and he strolled back over to Marcus and patted his hand before he could yank it away. “No, you’re not, because you know you can’t kill me. You could wrap your hands around my neck right now or send a bullet through
my brain, but it wouldn’t do a thing to me. No, what you’re going to do is stand up, straighten your preppy little professor shirt, go back through those doors, and pretend everything is okay. And you’re going to back off on the little spiritual adventures you and your pals have been having. You’re going to tell Reece you’re taking a little break from the group, but you’ll probably be back in late fall. You’re going to let the others go after the Wolf on their own. Because if you don’t . . .” Calen pointed toward the house and circled his tongue over his lips. “Do we understand each other completely?”

Calen didn’t wait for an answer. He tossed the glass into one of Kat’s flowerpots on the edge of the patio and glided toward the back door. Abbie slid it open and smiled at him. “Good talk with my dad?”

“Yes. He’s an amazing guy. We had a great chat.” Calen turned and drilled Marcus with his gaze before spinning back to Abbie. “I think we’re going to get along really, really well.”

“Dad?” Abbie called to Marcus over Calen’s shoulder. “Are you coming in? Dinner’s just about ready.”

Marcus nodded and stood. He’d never felt so alone and so inadequate. He had no idea what to do next. No clue how to fight Zennon in the form of Calen. But it didn’t matter. He fought tonight for Abbie, so he would fight well. He would call on the Spirit and the Spirit would answer.