The Curator and the Curse of the Pharaoh (Chapter 3)

Chapter Three

New Orleans, Louisiana

February 2^nd, 1999

After her conversation with Captain Hayes, Jessica found herself sitting at her desk chewing her nails on one hand and rapping her pen against her knee with the other. She stared out the window at the street below, people moving about their daily lives, unaware of the horrors out there that could befall them at a moment’s notice. Now she had to deal with the fact that it was looking more and more like magic existed.

Immediately after the Captain had ordered her to work with lunatics she had retrieved the river and fountain samples from the glove box of Xavier’s car. Dr. Laselle had gone home for the day so she had left the box sitting on his desk with a note attached to it, describing the contents and asking for a few specific tests to be run. She could just as easily have run them herself but she had other things to worry about at the moment, and disturbing Dr. Laselle’s lab usually sent the poor man into a panic. But sending him into an obsessive frenzy was less concerning then what stood in front of her…

…like the very visibly angry Asheara burning a hole into her forehead with her fiery eyes. She knew she was about to catch fire for locking up Ezekial. “And you have no intention of releasing him?”

Jessica shook her head side to side. “Not one.”

“Even after your Captain ordered you to work with us?”

“Yep. Even after the Captain ordered me to work with you.”

Asheara clenched her fists and grit her teeth. “He is not the enemy.”

“But he is annoying. And he has been interfering with a police investigation. Look Ashley, I’ll let him out in the morning. Promise. But for now, he can sit down in holding and debate whether or not it’s wise to muck about in a murder case so willy-nilly next time.” Jessica had had enough of this conversation and her shifting tone told Asheara so.

“I know he can be maddening at times, but Ezekial means well Ms. Hart. You have to know that.” Her words bounced off the detective and dropped to the floor. Jessica had officially tuned out to the woman’s pleas to release her cohort. Asheara decided her reason had been trumped by Jessica’s unspoken grudge and instead turned to head toward booking. But before she walked away she turned back to the detective and snidely but still with a hint of respect she asked, “Am I under arrest as well, or am I still free to go?”

“You can go. Meet us back here tomorrow morning and we’ll release Ezekial.” Jessica took a deep breath and added, “Look Ashley, I like you. I really do. I think you’re a genuinely good person. But why you insist on hanging out with a creep-a-zoid like Ezekial is just beyond me.”

“There is much beyond you detective. You will see that soon enough.” And with that she disappeared through the rows of desks and out the door toward where Ezekial was being held. Jessica didn’t like being told that things were beyond her. It left about as bad a taste in her mouth as when people compared her to her father. She wished she had been half the cop he was, heck, half the man he was. Well, half the person at least. It drove her insane that her boss had used her deceased father like a playing card.

And how could the Captain even have the audacity to bring up Joshua Hart? Some best friend he had turned out to be. Not only did he not back her dad up he had practically jumped at the opportunity to take his chair. Jessica didn’t even think the seat had been cold before he was boxing up her father’s photos and putting his own wife in their place. If he wasn’t her superior officer she’d have laid into him for even saying his name. But her hands were tied, and now it felt like her feet were bound as well.

Ezekial, as far as she knew anyway, was still down in holding. Putting him in a locked room before however hadn’t kept him from escaping previously. But seeing as she hadn’t heard anyone taunting her in a British brogue in the last hour she assumed he hadn’t pulled another David Blaine on them, at least, not yet.

Jessica took her eyes off the window and turned her attention to the doorknob on the desk. It didn’t have a plate, it was just a knob. There was nothing truly remarkable about it, a few scuff marks here and there where the brass had been scratched away, but otherwise it was nothing extraordinary. The surface of it barely shined anymore. She picked it up and rolled it back and forth between her palms. It was surprisingly warm to the touch. Before picking it up she had prepared herself for the cold of the metal surface but this doorknob felt as if it had been sitting in someone’s hands for hours.

Weird… she thought.

Continuing her examination yielded the same results. But why had Ezekial tried to take this with him? Maybe there was a button on it somewhere, something hidden inside? She moved her fingers across every inch but in the end came to the same conclusion.

It was just a doorknob.

So why had Ezekial wanted this so badly? Perhaps it was just her curious nature, but not knowing was an insatiable itch she could never scratch until she discovered the truth of something. When she had taken it from him he had looked at her as though he were shot in the chest. It was like taking a doll away from a little kid because they were misbehaving. How did Ashley work with that guy?

Jessica slipped the doorknob into her pocket just as Xavier came around the corner behind her and said, “Hey Jess, I got the address on Donovan.” He looked down at his watch. “Seven o’clock. We can be there by seven thirty. You ready?”

“Yeah.” She said softly. Jessica stood up and pulled her jacket off the back of her chair and threw it around her shoulders. Xavier watched her move. She was like a robot. He knew something was bothering her, but he didn’t want to dig too deeply into it. Jessica had a tendency to shut down when he began the twenty questions game.

“What’d the Captain want?” He said as they moved toward the exit.

“We’re supposed to work with Ezekial and Ashley. Use ‘em as informants and whatnot.” She said with a curled lip. He could tell from her appearance she didn’t agree but he still pressed on.

“And let me guess. You’re against the idea?”

“They’re insane Xavier. I mean, you heard them. Magic? Get real…”

Xavier pushed the door open and the cool night air filled their lungs. It was refreshing after being cooped up in the stuffy precinct for the last few hours. Jessica always reveled in the sensations of a Louisiana night. She sucked in a deep lungful of the cool and humid night air and listened to the crickets sing in the distance. It felt like it was going to rain soon. The world wrapped her up in its Earthy embrace and she wanted to just stand there and let it continue to hold her, but unfortunately she had a job to do.

“The River turned to blood Jess…”

“We don’t know that. It could have been any number of environmental factors that caused it to appear that way. For all we know one of the factories up river had an accident they didn’t report and we’re just seeing the fallout from it now.” She climbed into the driver’s side of her ‘92 Buick and started it as Xavier slipped in next to her.

“I’ve seen blood before boss. That was blood.”

She ignored any further probing, preferring not to discuss the doom and gloom of today’s current events. She opted to switch the topic of discussion instead. “What’s the address?”

“972 Parish Rd.” He said. “And shouldn’t we have brought Ashley with us if the Captain wanted us to work together?”

“This isn’t a magical lead Xavier. This is police work. Of course, you’re welcome to head back to kooky-ville with the Nutball siblings at the precinct if you want. Me? I’m going to do my job.” She was obviously irritated and Xavier knew this was dangerously close to shutdown mode so he backed off.

They rode in silence for a while, the only noise coming from Jessica’s stomach as it periodically reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything since earlier in the day. She kept stealing glances into the rearview mirror, expecting Ezekial or Ashley to suddenly appear in the backseat. She wasn’t sure if they teleported, projected, used a hologram, or whatever it was they did. All she knew is the constant possibility of them abruptly phasing into their car kept her on edge.

Finally, Xavier couldn’t take the silence anymore. “So. You ever going to take that vacation I’m always telling you to take?”

“This hardly seems like the time, Garcia…”

“I’m not saying right now, in the middle of the weirdest case that’s ever landed on our desks. But afterward y’know? Take some time. Chill out on a nice warm beach somewhere. Maybe scrub the backseat and get an air freshener?” That garnered a smile from her.

She immediately thought of Peru. Her parents had taken her there once when she was a kid. It sounded wonderful. Jessica did always want to take a vacation but she never had the time. As soon as she felt she was ready to get on a cruise ship and head to somewhere warm another body would drop and she’d be back to work. If the bad guys didn’t take a vacation or call in sick how could she? And just as quickly as thoughts of white sand beaches washed up in her mind the tide pulled the thoughts away and replaced them with the reality of the life she had chosen.

“That all sounds good and well, Xavier. But I just don’t have the time.”

Five minutes later they were pulling up into the driveway of a quaint white ranch house style home. The blue shutters on the window were definitely after market. The front walkway was adorned with manicured shrubs that had been cut into the shapes of little balls. They looked like green cotton candy sticks lining the cobblestone path. The two detectives found themselves standing on a brown and black stitched welcome mat on a red brick porch. It was certainly a beautiful home from the outside.

Xavier rang the bell and the sound of footsteps moving inside could be heard a few moments later. A voice called to them, muffled by the door between, “just a minute!” They heard a chain lock slide and the deadbolt twist and then they were looking directly into the face of a confused young man in his mid-twenties. He had a green shirt on that said, “Han Shot First” and a candy striped pair of pajama pants. His blue eyes worked their way up and down Jessica first and then Xavier, noting the gold badges pinned to their belts he said, “um, good evening? How can I help you officers?” He ran a nervous hand through his shaggy brown hair.

“Donovan Willis?” Asked Jessica. The man nodded. “May we come in? We have a couple of questions for you regarding the AA meetings you oversee?” He didn’t look very sick, at least, not on the outside. She made a mental note of that as he motioned for them to come in. Both detectives nodded and stepped inside. The white walls were lined with framed photographs and paintings. Jessica found herself admiring a watercolor of a frozen lake on the hallway wall as Donovan led them toward the living room.

Everyone took a seat, the detectives sitting down on a gaudy red leather couch and Donovan perching himself on the edge of a rocking chair across from them. There were even more photographs and paintings in here and she noticed an easel in the corner.

Pointing toward the easel Jessica asked with a smile, “you a painter?”

Donovan nodded and turned toward where she was pointing. He smiled as well as his eyes settled on the easel. “Yes. I find it soothes me, helps with sobriety. Speaking of which, detectives, I’m… assuming?” He pointed his hand lazily and moved it between the two of them as they nodded. Jessica couldn’t help but notice the tips of his fingers looking odd. At first she thought it may have just been black paint but as she stared for a second longer she realized it looked like he had a medical condition. The nails were black and the skin just above the cuticle looked so red and puffy she knew they had to be causing severe pain. She added that to her mental checklist.

“Okay,” he continued, “well whatever this is regarding you said something about the AA meetings when you came here? You know those are confidential right? Whatever you think one of the members may have done I can’t give you their names.”

“None of them has done anything Donovan…” Jessica trailed off, not sure how to proceed.

Xavier noticed her apprehension and decided to answer for her. Very calmly yet bluntly he said, “They’re dead. Seven of them anyway.” His tone was flat and solemn, the same one they had used hundreds of times to explain to the families of victims what had become of their loved ones.

Donovan’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What…? How…?” His eyes fell to his lap and he wrung his hands dolefully between his knees. “I…I just…saw them all a few days ago. We had a meeting on Thursday…”

“I know you want to protect their identities Donovan, but that’s just the problem.” Said Jessica. “Their bodies were…in bad shape, from a disease. We’re running DNA on them but most of the people weren’t in our system. We were hoping that maybe you could help fill in the blanks? We’ll need their names, ages, and gender, maybe some distinguishing features if you can remember them.” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees. “I know this is hard for you. The fact that none of them were in our database tells me they were all good people.” Except for Quinn. She thought.

“Except for Harper.” Donovan confirmed. “Yeah.” He paused, seemingly trying to find the words, and finally said, “Yeah, I’ll make you a list. Hold on. Do you guys want some coffee?”

“I’ll take some.” Said Xavier.

“Water. Please.” Answered Jessica.

Donovan nodded and shambled off somberly toward the kitchen. They heard a few glasses clink around as Jessica pulled her notebook and a pen from her breast pocket. When Donovan returned he was holding two steaming ceramic mugs. After he set one of them down he produced a bottle of water from the pocket of his pajama pants.

“Fancy.” Jessica flashed him a smile as she took it. Donovan managed to force a smile of his own and handed Xavier his coffee. Sitting down, he cleared his throat and took a sip from his mug.

“Sorry. It’s just… this is all really hard to get my head around.”

Xavier nodded. “I know. And we’re sorry to lay it on you like this.”

“But if you can give us any information regarding the people in your meeting, and I mean anything at all, it’ll help us close this case and find out what happened to your friends.” She reached out and rubbed Donovan’s knee to comfort him. “Take your time. We just need their names and ages. Anything else you can tell us will be helpful as well.”

Donovan nodded and put his coffee back down on the table in front of him. “Can I borrow a piece of that paper detective? And a pen please?” His voice was indecisive, it sounded as if he could break down any minute. Jessica felt horrible for the kid. He seemed so young to suffer from alcoholism but she supposed she had witnessed more peculiar demons. She flipped her notebook to an empty page and handed him the pen. They sat there silently while Donovan wrote, not wanting to give him any more empty condolences or make the weight of his grief any heavier. When he was finished he returned the cap to the pen and slid it in between the spiral binding.

“That’s everyone that attends the meetings. I wrote down the addresses too for the ones I knew off the top of my head. I might have some more information in my appointment book but I’d have to go find it…” His voice grew distant, faltering on the last of his words. Jessica saw a tear well up in the corner of his left eye and roll its way down his cheek. There was no greater metaphor for sadness in Jessica’s opinion than a lonely tear. She took the notebook from him and gave him half a smile.

“What happened to them? If—if it’s okay I ask, y’know. I don’t wanna interfere…”

“No. It’s fine.” Said Xavier. “It looks like some kind of a disease. You may have been lucky to have taken the day off today Donovan.”

“They—they didn’t suffer did they?”

The truth was probably yes. The right answer to his question probably would have been no. But Jessica instead chose to find a place in between and said, “It was quick.” before Xavier could add anything else. It seemed enough to satisfy Donovan though because he nodded and stared straight forward into the surface of his coffee.

“I hate to ask Donovan, but we kinda have to. Can you tell me where you were today between eleven a.m. and two p.m.?” They hadn’t narrowed down an exact time of death yet, but from what Jessica had witnessed and what Corey had reported in his notes, her best guess put it around there. She almost regretted asking the question when she saw Donovan’s eyes turn to her, filled with grief and hurt. Grief for his friends and hurt for her accusation, even though she had taken extra care to keep her tone neutral.

“I was here. I called in sick but it was a lie. I was actually waiting for the cable guy to get here at noon and he didn’t leave until three. I can show you the bill if you want. It’s just in the other room?” He pointed toward the hallway and Jessica once again could see his fingers, the nailbeds black and the skin raw and red. It almost looked like the fingers of their Leprosy victims, rotted and putrescent. They weren’t emitting an odor but they definitely appeared as if they were in dire need of medical attention.

Jessica answered him, “Yes. That would be great, thank you.” Then she said, “Mr. Willis? Why did you lie to the priest when you called today? Surely you could have told him you were waiting for the cable repairman, you didn’t need to lie.”

“It just… it seemed like a stupid reason to call in. Those people need counseling you know? And I was letting them down so I could keep getting my cartoons…”

He was right. That did sound stupider.

He began to stand up as she continued, “I hate to ask Mr. Willis, but can you tell me what’s wrong with your fingers?”

He immediately became self-conscious and tucked his hands away from view between his chest and his elbows as he folded his arms across his chest. “It’s a—a work injury.” There was a pause, like he was searching for the rest of the answer. Jessica’s eyebrow rose in suspicion as he added, “I work for a cleaning company. They just started using new chemicals and I found out I’m allergic.”

She didn’t want to push but it wasn’t in her nature to back down so she dove right in with another line of enquiry. “That looks like it’s been that way for a few weeks, Donovan. A reaction like that doesn’t just come on over night, that’s prolonged exposure. May I?” She was holding her hands out now as she stood up. Donovan looked down to Xavier with a face that seemed searching for approval.

“Don’t look at me kid. She was the doctor.” Xavier said with his toothy smile pointing at Jessica.

Donovan’s face shifted from apprehension into surprise. He looked at Jessica in wide eyed astonishment. “You were a doctor? But you’re—you’re a cop?”

“And just what are you insinuating? Cops aren’t smart enough to be doctors?” She had seized the gap in his attention span to close the gap between them and while she spoke she already had his hand in hers. Examining it up closely it certainly looked like it corroborated with his story. The damage and the inflammation were likely due to exposure from a caustic substance.

“Have you talked to your doctor?”

“Um…kinda.” He answered sheepishly.

“What do you mean kinda?”

“Well…I mean…you’re looking at ‘em right now… and you’re a doctor… so…”

Jessica couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. Xavier stifled a laugh as well behind her. “Okay, well you need to go see a physician about this. One who can prescribe you drugs?” He smirked at the last word so she added sternly, “And I’m talking about legal ones.”

“Oh, right. Of course!” He laughed nervously and retracted his hand. “What would you say, I mean, if you were still a doc, that I need for it?”

She shrugged. “I’d want to do a few tests to narrow it down starting with a blood sample, but you definitely are allergic to something. Wear gloves from now on, kay?”

He nodded and said, “I’m uh, I’m gonna go get that receipt now?” What was intended as a declaration came out an unsure question. Jessica smiled and said thanks as he trotted off toward one of the other rooms in the house. She cracked open the water bottle and took a drink. She had been expecting it to taste like the best water she had ever had in her life. Jessica was used to drinking water out of the tap. She left buying bottled water to survivalist nutjobs and fitness junkies.

I mean seriously… who buys ‘bottled water’?

As she waited for the kid to return she found herself staring at a photograph of Donovan and a very pretty girl with golden blonde hair. They were smiling widely and standing on a dock overlooking a pristine lake. The sun beat down and sent a glare to the edge of the photograph but it didn’t obscure the image. The two of them clearly looked like they were in love. When Donovan returned he found her still staring at it and said, “That’s Anna. She was…” He sighed. “Well I guess you’ll find out about her eventually anyway…”

She pointed at the framed portrait. “The girl in the photograph?”

He nodded. “That’s Anna Coolidge. We tried to keep it a secret, but I was sponsoring her. And…well…dating her too… We just kinda—clicked ya know?”

Jessica smiled. “You fell in love. Why would you keep it a secret?”

“Alcoholics Anonymous tries to discourage relationships forming between members of the group. That’s why they usually only allow same-sex sponsors. Men get partnered with men, women with women. Sometimes when two addicts get together it can spell disaster. But Anna and I joined the program together.” He looked at the photo and smiled, and then his face contorted into horror. “Oh my God…you don’t think…I haven’t heard from her all day. Oh God… I hope she wasn’t there. How many people did you say got sick?” Jessica could almost see the kid’s stomach visibly doing backflips.

“There were seven people. We’ll have to confirm if she was one of the victims tomorrow morning. Right now though, aside from you, it looks like the chairs were set up for nine and one other person is still missing. It’s possible she’s just been busy or ill today and hasn’t been able to get in touch. Fear the worst only when it comes.”

Donovan swallowed heavily. “Who said that?”

Jessica forced a sorrowful grin. “I did. Just now. We’ll contact you when we know more okay?” She took the piece of paper clutched in his fist from Donovan. “Do you mind if we take this with us?”

He shook his head but it was apparent he had checked-out from this conversation. She could say that Martians had landed in his backyard and demanded to speak with his cat overlord immediately and he likely would have responded with the same empty motion. She empathized with him deeply. She had felt this very same shock before. It was terrible.

“Call us if you can think of anything else okay?” Said Xavier, his deep voice full of pity. Donovan Willis once again acknowledged them with the same slow bob of his head. The two detectives left the house the same way they’d come in. Jessica had stolen one last glance back at Donovan on the way out. He looked so sad. He just stood there in the same spot, chewing on his blackened fingernails. It made her wonder if he even knew how badly his fingers were wounded right now, and if he did, did he even care? She figured the answer was very likely, no.

Her eyes fell on one last painting on her way out the door. It was a portrait, of a woman that bore a remarkable resemblance to the girl in the photograph he had identified as Anna. Donovan had likely painted it. She stared back at them, her blue doe-eyed expression wide and her smile telling them she felt just as in love as the man who had painted her. She was wearing a simple black dress and a locket around her neck; a gold cordiform necklace. It was a simple piece resembling the organ it laid over top of.

As she closed the door behind her she thought of the picture on the wall and her grieving lover with his blackened hands in a house alone crying with no-one. She thought of the corpses with their blackened hands sitting in her morgue back at the precinct, one in particular. She grimaced at the thought of the girl with no hands on the slab. The one with the exit wound in her skull with no point of entry. She prayed it wasn’t the same woman she’d seen in that picture on the wall.

They stood on his front porch and she flipped open the notebook and looked at the list of names he’d written down. She then looked at the receipt given to Donovan by the cable company. They were certainly efficient in their filing system. Before leaving they’d time stamped the bill and the customer had to sign that they were being honest.

After confirming his alibi they made their way back down to the car in silence as a light rain began to gently cascade around them. It wasn’t enough to soak anything, just left the surface of their clothes damp. “I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

“Neither do I.” She said climbing into the car on the passenger side. Confused, Xavier climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’m bushed Garcia. I’m gonna take a power nap while you drive us back to the station to get your car, that sound alright?”

Xavier laughed. “I don’t know about alright, but that’s fine. I hate your driving anyway.”

She scowled at him and hit Xavier in the arm playfully as he settled into the driver’s seat. He laughed, “Alright! Alright! I give up! I surrender!” He said waving a mock white flag. Jessica couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Just take us home detective.”

“Yessum, uh Miss Da-a-isy.”

*    *    *    *    *    *

New Orleans, Louisiana

February 3^rd, 1999

“So. Decided to follow me further down into the rabbit-hole?” Ezekial called coyly. His jacket, tie, and shoes had been taken from him and he sat on the concrete bench behind the wrought-iron bars. “Told you there was no shallow end.”

“I’ve decided I’ll follow you into the rabbit-hole until I find the burrow. But after that, if I find out you had anything to do with what’s going on right now I swear I will lock you up somewhere you can’t escape from and throw away the key. Are we clear?” Her emerald eyes portrayed her somewhat unwilling abstention to release him at all.

So choosing his words wisely, Ezekial said, “As crystal.”

Jessica, Ashley, and Xavier had all convened at the station early the next day. Jessica had barely been able to sleep the night before. She wasn’t sure about Xavier. The only people who looked well rested around here were Ashley, Ezekial, and the Corrections Officer who had accompanied them down to where Ezekial was being held. The burly woman slid her skeleton key into the heavy iron lock and motioned for Ezekial to exit saying nothing in the process.

“She’s not the most polite Australopithecus I’ve ever met, but I dare say, the lass runs a close second.” The corrections officer audibly growled at Ezekial. He had clearly struck the same nerve before. She raised a fist like she was going to strike him but looked back to Jessica and Xavier and decided against it.

“Ee’s yer go’damn probbem nah. God ‘elp ya.” She wasn’t very articulate, but Detective Hart got the gist as she stormed away.

“Thank heavens you’ve finally come to rescue me from that Neanderthal.”

There was a swift strike to his cheek and immediately the skin flared red. Ashley had hit him across the jaw with an open hand. The motion had been so sudden that Jessica hadn’t even seen it happen in real time. She could only witness the after effect. Granted, even if she’d had some kind of precognitive vision of her slapping Ezekial right then she knew she wouldn’t have done anything to stop it. What he had said was downright cruel and he deserved to be smacked.

“The hell’d you do that for?”

“You are a despicable man, Ezekial Cross. I have no idea how I stand by your side when you say things like that. That poor woman has feelings and you have drastically reduced her already low self-image.” Ashley lit into him as Ezekial’s face seemed to turn to an expression feigning innocence.

“Blimey woman? What are you on about?”

“She’s saying you’re an asshole.” You could always count on Xavier Garcia when the hard truth needed to be presented. And the good detective had no problem informing Ezekial of the truth he seemed to be missing. “And she’s right. Now come on. For some reason the Captain thinks you can help us.”

They all turned and made their way through the concrete bunker that made up the lock-up section of their Parish’s precinct. The whole thing looked like a renovated nuclear weapons silo, and truthfully, none of the renovations looked very modern. Their doors were still made of iron. Most modern ones had been retrofitted from a steel alloy, which was by far more durable, but she supposed the jailhouse corridor of their precinct had an old-world aesthetic that most of the geezers that made of the top brass officials loved so much.

As they squeaked through the groaning door and it slammed shut behind them Ezekial began to speak. “So where are we at Detective Hart? What have you gleaned from your investigation thus far?” He mused slyly.

Xavier and Jessica exchanged a glance, both wondering how much they should tell him. Jessica remembered the Captain’s words however, that her father had worked with crazies in the past to catch the bad guys. She decided to spill everything they knew so far. Dr. Laselle had confirmed the samples were blood this morning when he’d arrived, but DNA was inconclusive, possibly because there were so many samples floating around. It would take a lot of blood to fill the Mississippi.

They told him about Harper Quinn and his rap sheet. The notes that Donovan had given them had pretty much confirmed the body missing her hands was that of Anna Coolidge. The heart-shaped locket Corey had bagged from around her neck to study later confirmed it. She told Ezekial about Donovan. How he’d reacted to hearing his friends had died, how he’d been absent, and his involvement with Anna. They had also narrowed down the list to the second person possibly missing from that AA meeting as Alan Urlich.

A team from Forensics had scoured the addresses of the people on Donovan’s list for DNA samples from each victim. They told Ezekial that Dr. Laselle was currently confirming the identities by matching samples as they spoke. They said their next logical move was to interview the victims’ families and let them know while they waited for the CDC to arrive from Atlanta this morning and inspect the bodies.

When she finished speaking, she did so with a question. “When you disappeared, back at the morgue, y’know, when you were doing that projecting crap you were doing. You mentioned my dad, Joshua. Did you know him?”

It was Ezekial’s turn to exchange a shocked expression with Ashley. Her eyes narrowed at him in obvious anger. He had clearly crossed a line when he’d told Jessica earlier that he knew her father. “Well then. I suppose there’s no sense in hiding my name anymore is there. Honestly, I don’t know why you did in the first place.”

Ezekial shied away like a dog that had been scolded and smiled nervously. “Freudian slip I suppose? My mistake…”

Jessica hadn’t missed the important part of that conversation. She turned to Ashley and said, “What’s your real name?”

“Asheara Caliban. I am a Sorceress.”

“Of course you are…” Jessica tossed her head back and feverishly rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “Anyway. Is there anything you two would like to add? Maybe without the ‘I’m Merlin in disguise’ parts…?”

Asheara gave an exasperated sigh. “No. There’s nothing I have to add.”

“She’s right.” Chimed Ezekial. “We have nothing yet. I’ll have to talk to the victims.”

“Oh, ho-ho  no. Not a chance. You are not coming with us to interview the victims’ families. You are way too offensive, Johnny English.” Jessica was waving her hands in front of her, signaling there was not a chance he was coming with them today but he just laughed at her.

“And just what will their families tell me. I need to talk to the victims, detective. The people who died.”

Xavier and Jessica’s eyebrows both creased in unison. They looked between the two of them and Jessica almost slapped handcuffs on Ezekial and called the paramedics to cart him away to an asylum. Instead she resisted the impulse, as tantalizing as it was, and said, “Just a small problem with that… They’re kinda dead…”

“Then we’ll have to get creative won’t we. Detective, my effects please. Oh and do make it snappy. I want to be finished long before the fellas from your Disease Prevention facilities arrive.” He addressed them smiling, his hand extended like a bellhop expecting a tip.

“You’ll have to talk to the booking officer about that. I gave your bag to them when I checked you into your overnight hotel.”

“Well then go get them for me.”

“Go get them yourself. I’m not your butler.”

Asheara grinned and looked at Ezekial. “Now here have I heard that before?”

Ezekial sneered and wandered off toward the heavy bulletproof partition separating the general populace from the Correction’s Officers and inmates on the other side. It’d take him at least twenty minutes to get his stuff from them. It would take even longer if she followed him over and convinced the guy running the station to make him wait. She resisted the childish urge however and decided to focus on the bigger issues at hand.

“So how does me knowing you know my father translate into keeping your name a secret? I’m confused?” Jessica asked the now renamed Asheara.

But much to Jessica’s dismay Asheara shook her head. “Sometimes I do not understand his methodology either. I do hope you trust us though. Everything we tell you may seem unfathomable, but soon you will understand. And just so you know Detective Hart,” she said putting a comforting hand on Jessica’s elbow, “your father was a very good man. And from your aura I can see you are a keen representation of him.”

“What about me?” Asked Xavier excitedly. “What does my aura say?”

Asheara laughed. “You have a strong aura as well Xavier. But you are mortal. Your auras change like the winds. But I do say, yours is much stronger than most. The two of you together are a rare combination indeed and I speculate that you derive your strengths from her inadvertently.” Other than the words strong and strength Xavier had no idea what she was talking about, but judging from the smile on his face he liked what he had been told about his aura. Jessica frowned.

“You’re not actually buying into this hocus pocus are you?”

“It’s an aura reading Jess, relax. It’s like when a psychic reads your palms. It’s all just for fun, y’know? Ain’t you never been to a carnival before?” Defended Xavier adamantly. “And besides, you should be flattered. She says the only reason I’m so strong is because of you. Don’t that make you feel good?” He beamed his dopey enamoring smile at her, smirking like a juvenile who’d just said a dirty word for the first time.

Jessica rolled her eyes. She wasn’t buying into any of it.

“Okay, well let’s start with something simpler. How do you know my dad?” Her eyes were narrowed and she took a stance that Xavier referred to as her batting stance. She looked firm and resolute in that pose and her gaze could cut Medusa in half. That is exactly why she commonly used this particular stance during interrogations. Jessica had seen much larger men then Asheara’s meager frame crack under the power of that glare. But Asheara didn’t waver, didn’t even break her smile.

“That’s hardly simpler. In fact, it’s far more complicated than your previous inquest.” Her answer was just as cryptic as Jessica had come to expect from these two. “But I will say this, he was a great man, and someone very special to Ezekial and myself alike. We do miss him sorely, and we sympathize with your loss.”

“He died a year ago. And special to you can mean a lot of things. What exactly did your relationship with my father entail?”

“Strictly platonic and professional Jessica, I assure you. You already have difficulty believing what I tell you. I cannot explain your father and us and also have you comprehend the entire tale yet. You will eventually come to understand it all. But for now, we’ll just say it was a professionally complicated and platonically pleasurable experience working with your father.”

That may have been the weirdest answer Jessica had ever heard.

There was no more time for questions though as Ezekial strolled up to them glaring. “Detective, they gave me back my bag but I seem to be missing a few of my chattels. Firstly, they refused to return my sword—“

“Because it’s a weapon.”

“—and they seem to have misplaced a rather important doorknob. I’ll need that back. It pulls the whole room to my study together. You understand? I need it if I’m ever to get back into my home office.” It was a blatant lie. Jessica could practically smell the malarkey emanating from it.

She pulled the doorknob from her pocket and held it up in front of Ezekial. “Oh? You mean this doorknob? Yeah. Once again, not buying a word you two are selling. You expect me to believe you take the doorknob of your study before you leave every. Single. Time?”

Ezekial nodded.

“Why?”

“I keep important things in there.”

“So you take the doorknob off because you’re worried about thieves?”

He nodded again.

“Why don’t you buy a lock?”

“Any thief worth his weight in salt can pick a lock.”

“And any person weighing over eighty pounds can kick a door with no knob down.”

“A valid point detective. But I’m still going to need that back.” He extended his hand. She didn’t want to give it back to him, but she decided withholding it would just be petty and in the end she handed it off to him. Ezekial unzipped the bag and was just about the throw the knob inside when Asheara gently grabbed his arm.

“Don’t put it away.” She said. “Show them.”

“Show us what?” Asked Xavier puzzled.

Ezekial grunted, looked around for any snooping police officers or any other witnesses and turned back to them. “Try not to faint. I’m not carrying either of you.” He looked down at the doorknob, seemingly trying to choose whether or not he should obey Asheara’s words but like Detective Hart had decided to return his property, he decided not listening to her would be petty. He opened Asheara’s hand and dropped the doorknob into it. “On second thought, you show them. Xavier, would you like to speak to a corpse.”

He seemed more interested in the doorknob as he sarcastically contrived excitement, “Oh boy would I?!”

“You take Jessica back to Bartelby and get her up to speed. If we’re going to work together she needs to stop thinking like a cop. I’m going to go see what I can ascertain from the dead. Have a little heart to heart chat with Hell.” He bounced his eyebrows up and down and licked the outside of his lips. Ezekial was never a fan of communicating with souls on the other side. The ones who made it to Eternity weren’t so bad, but souls that died like this were usually not in the custody of the benevolent. This would require direct communication with Hell, and if Xavier and Jessica were going to believe them about what was really happening, splitting them up and showing them both sides of the tracks separately seemed like the best approach to him.

Xavier tapped Jessica on the shoulder and looked her directly in the eyes. “What do you think Jess? Want me to take him down to the morgue?”

It was clear Jessica was entirely against the whole idea but she took a deep breath to calm herself and said, “Yeah, take him down there. But for God’s sake, if Laselle’s there make him leave before he starts playing with corpses,” her brow dipped and she affixed a steely glare on Ezekial. “Speaking of which, if he starts literally playing with corpses, please take him back to lockup…immediately.”

“Um…yeah. Not gonna be a problem there boss.” Xavier then led Ezekial away and now it was just Jessica and Asheara standing there in the open waiting area for visitors and family in inmate booking. They were out of view from anyone beyond the glass partition and there was no one around but still Asheara didn’t feel comfortable using an artifact in plain sight like this. She looked down at the doorknob in her hands then back up at Detective Hart.

“Is there anywhere more… private we could adjourn to Ms. Hart? Using this in public would be a direct violation of everything I stand for.”

Ezekial was about to… thought Jessica but she decided against letting it slip out audibly. Asheara was much different from Ezekial. She was refined, and even though she was certain she had worn the same dress the day before, she still had a regal appearance about her. She had to respect the woman. Even if magic wasn’t real she was right about one thing, if it did exist, using it out in the open would be idiotic.

Giving the self-proclaimed Sorceress the benefit of a doubt she nodded and said, “Yeah, sure. Follow me.” They moved into the main area of the precinct and past all the desks and her fellow officers. Unlike the night before when Asheara had been here the place was lively and bustling. There were people everywhere and every so often an officer would drag another person into the room professing their innocence at the top of their lungs.   

They came to a stop at one of the empty offices in a long yellow wallpapered corridor. It had belonged to Captain Hayes before he’d been promoted and no one had been assigned to it yet. For all intents and purposes this would probably be the most private spot in the entire precinct this time of day. She closed the door behind them and flicked on the lights. All that remained was the dark walnut stained hardwood desk and a beat up grey swivel chair. Empty filing cabinets and a bookshelf with only department issued books left behind.

Asheara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Now remember detective, Ezekial told you yesterday this was a deep pool. It was a crude analogy but I’m sure you understand. This may seem bizarre; you may have difficulty processing what is happening. But I assure you, this is all completely safe.” She turned a warm smile to Jessica and the detective returned it.

“I’m pins and needles.” She was nervous to be honest. This woman was serious, and whatever was about to happen she was dead certain it was going to be magic responsible. Jessica almost wanted to have her gun in her hand in case anything utterly insane did happen but then she decided she was only driving herself crazy. She watched Asheara walk up to the wall on the far side of the room in between the filing cabinets and the book shelf. It was a blank area of space about four feet wide. Nothing particularly spectacular about it, but she was transfixed on that one region as she purposely strode forward.

She took the doorknob in hand as if she were going to open a door. Asheara pushed the back of it into the wall and closed her eyes. As soon as she did that Jessica’s mouth practically hit the floor. A section of the wall began to glow, just an outline. Tendrils made of golden beams of light snaked from the rectangle suddenly growing around the knob pressed into the drywall. They reached out toward Jessica causing her to take a step back. The wall inside the rectangle of golden light faded, replaced by an incandescent white veil. The veil gradually grew in intensity, exploding silently in a bright white flash. Jessica threw her arm up to shield her eyes and when she opened them the rectangle of light had been replaced by a door. It looked like any normal door she’d ever seen before but more ornate. It’s heavy mahogany construction with hand carved inlays were a stark contrast to the otherwise ordinary office. In the upper two panels was a lion, the middle two were swords and the bottom panel had a hand carved bejeweled crown bore into it.

She stepped forward and Asheara moved to the side. Reaching out, Jessica ran her hands over the door. Just moments before a wall had been here. She knew there had, she’d been in this office dozens of times throughout her career. The only door was the one they had entered. This had just appeared…like magic.

She pulled her hand away and blinked hard, half expecting the door to disappear as soon as she opened them. It was still there when her eyes fluttered open. She uttered a small gasp. “This…this is unreal.”

Asheara was smiling. “No, Ms. Hart. I assure you. This is very much real. Now come. We have many things to discuss.” She reached her hand out and grabbed the doorknob. Giving it a turn revealed a huge expanse on the other side. Tables were covered in fantastic objects. She could see row after row of bookshelves, they seemed never-ending. The interior had a rustic cabin-like feel to it but the contents looked more like an archaic museum. There were doors everywhere. It looked like there could be dozens in total. Some were likely obscured by the bookshelves. Each door was different from the last. Some were painted, some stained, but every single one of them most likely led to somewhere just as whimsical and marvelous.

“Woah…”

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Said Asheara stepping inside. She still had her hand on the knob as she motioned with the other one for Jessica to follow her inside. “Welcome to the Emporium.”

She called it an Emporium. But Jessica was pretty certain this was just the entrance to the rabbit-hole. And that filled her with pure dread. If that doorknob was an artifact then was everything inside his bag an artifact too? Did they all have magical properties? Did everything inside here have magical properties? Could she touch any of this stuff or would she blow up the world? Was it even safe to be here? These questions and more flooded into her mind, slowing the world around her to a dead crawl. Of everything she didn’t know, there was one thing she was certain of…

…She was terrified of what she’d find in the burrow.

*    *    *    *    *    *

After what felt like ages to Ezekial his precious sword was finally handed back to him. He had told Xavier he would not continue with the investigation until all of his belongings were returned to him. Xavier had had to use a favor with the booking officer, Mark in order to get his sword dispossessed by the State of Louisiana. Irritated and humorless he thrust the sheathed blade into Ezekial’s chest. The handle on the hilt had been turned slightly and clipped him in the ribs causing him to yelp in pain. Without a word he fastened his sword back around his waist and under the trench coat.

At least it’s hidden… Thought Xavier. “So. For your next trick you said you’re gonna make the dead talk.”

“Yes.” Ezekial said confidently. “But it’s not so much talk as its…more like post-mortem puppetry.”

“So you’re gonna shove your hand up their backside, make their mouths flap, and throw your voice? Doesn’t sound like magic to me, just sociopathic.” Xavier criticized. He was always one to keep an open mind but this was getting crazier and crazier every time this guy spoke.

“Just take me to the morgue ya judgmental quim.”

Xavier had no idea what that meant but he was fairly certain Ezekial wasn’t paying him a compliment. The sides of his lips turned down as they headed through the precinct down to the morgue. When they arrived Dr. Laselle was sitting behind his desk fervently scribbling away on a yellow legal pad. When he heard their footsteps he looked up from what he was writing and smiled at Xavier.

“Hey!” He said warmly. “I haven’t found anything else out yet. CDC should be here soon.” Dr. Laselle chirped.

“Yeah…hey doc you mind stepping out for a minute?”

“Why?”

Xavier hadn’t anticipated Corey asking the simplest of questions. Why. He hadn’t prepared an argument strong enough to make him want to leave his lab when the case of a lifetime was sitting here. Not to mention he would need to be here in order to greet the CDC doctors and walk them through his lab. There was no legitimate reason he could think of that would get Dr. Laselle to leave. So he just said:

“Because I need you to.”

It earned a concerned expression from the Medical Examiner who stared at Ezekial then looked back to Xavier. He did this several times before finally saying, “Okay…well if you need me I’ll uh, I guess I’ll be upstairs.” He looked down at his watch. “Yeah. Cafeteria. I skipped breakfast. How long do you need detective?”

“Twenty minutes, tops.” The answer came from Ezekial which made Detective Garcia cringe even more. It also caught Dr. Laselle off guard. He stared at Ezekial for a moment, still lingering in the entranceway to the lab. Then he grabbed his overcoat off the rack by the door and started into the hallway.

Before leaving he turned back to them and asked somewhat bashfully, “He’s not going to touch the bodies is he? I know Captain pulled them in as consultants on the case but you know how I get when people fiddle with my lab…”

“Consider your lab fiddle-free, mate. Now sod off to the mess hall and get yourself some grub. Promise when you get back ya won’t even know we were here.” Ezekial flashed Corey his devilish grin which did nothing to assuage his fears.

“Ri-i-ight.” Dr. Laselle said as he exited the lab, closing the door with a loud click behind him. Ezekial wasted no time whatsoever moving over to the bodies. He dropped his bag to the floor with a dull thud. The contents of it jostled around inside, bumping into each other and settling back down. It sounded like a mechanic dropping a bag full of wrenches to the ground. 

Xavier moved up next to him, standing shoulder to shoulder overlooking all the stainless steel tables covered in bodies before them. Each cadaver had been reassembled and covered in a white sheet to protect their modesty. Even in death dignity was preserved. Ezekial moved his head up and down the row, studying each corpse, looking for something unseen by Xavier. Finally he seemed to find what he was looking for and yanked the sheet away from one of the bodies like a magician performing a table trick for a dinner party.

“Woah, take it easy there London Bridges. You don’t want to knock their pieces to the floor do you?” He was referring to some of the fingers that had moved around on the table when he’d pulled the sheet back. Ezekial ignored him and looked the body of the young man up and down.

“Not you.” He said as he tossed the sheet back over him. It settled down, crimped up in sections and creased, but for the most part covered the body like the others. He began his inspection process all over again before his eyes fell on the girl with the head wound. The one who had been missing her hands entirely. He yanked the sheet off her in the same way as the previous corpse but this time he crumpled the sheet up into a ball and threw it at detective Garcia. It slapped him in the face and collapsed into his open arms.

“Oh, c’mon man. Watch where you’re throwing the body blankets.”

“Sorry.” Came a hollow apology so audibly insincere it made Xavier roll his eyes. Ezekial now pulled the bag over to his feet and unzipped it. He rifled around inside for a moment before he began pulling various objects out and placing them on the alcove next to the sink behind him. The first thing was the ball of yarn Xavier had been playing with earlier.

“You touched this?”

“Um,” at first he didn’t want to answer. Then he shook his head wondering why he cared what a nutcase thought of him and said, “yeah, what of it?”

“Did it make you feel sick? Nauseous perhaps? Dizzy?”

Xavier shook his head.

“Good. Hold it.” He tossed the yarn to Xavier who caught it. Ezekial pulled one of the crotchet needles from the ball and looped a piece of the string through it. “Put one hand on this needle when I say so. Understood?”

“Yeah. I guess. What are you doing?”

“I’m using you as an anchor to the mortal realm. If the yarn didn’t make you sick then you must have built up a resistance to magic. Don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Wait! What do you mean doesn’t hurt much?”

As Ezekial pulled the candles from the bag, a silver bowl, and a mortar and pestle that Xavier hadn’t even known were in there he spoke with a clipped tone, sounding more like a professor than a madman in that moment. “Don’t be a crybaby. It’ll just be a slight pinch. You may get a headache afterwards but we’ll get you some Midol alright?” Xavier’s face scrunched up at the insult. “In order to communicate with the dead you need a landline of sorts, something to hold the communication on. In this instance you’re the receiving side of a telephone.” He motioned an open hand over the body of Anna Coolidge, “And she’s the caller on the other end.”

“Let’s get back to the slight pinch part…”

Ezekial ignored him as he began opening Dr. Laselle’s drawers rifling through them for something. Finally he found what he was looking for and withdrew a shining silver scalpel from one of them and shut the drawer behind him. He cut a section of skin away from her abdomen, a long, rectangular strip, and dropped it into the mortar bowl. Grabbing the pestle he began to grind the flesh up.

“Oh c’mon? What the hell is that?”

“Roll with the punches lad, roll with the punches.”

“Look I got no problem holding your yarn while you knit a landline or whatever but I’m not gonna sit here and watch you deface a dead body!”

“Do you really think she’s going to miss a patch of putrid meat detective? She’s dead. If anything she’d want us to find out what did this to her and stop it from happening to anyone else. Wouldn’t you?” Xavier watched him work the pestle back and forth in the mortar, grinding the girl’s epidermis into dust. The yarn hadn’t made him nauseous but this certainly was going to. “I told you. Give me twenty minutes here. If I fail to razzle dazzle you then feel free to take away my goodie bag and drop me back into the brig. But before those twenty minutes are up, it would be wise for you to learn a thing or two.” He now set the bowl down and positioned the blood red candles in a semi-circle around the girl. With a wave of his hand over their tops each candle flickered to life. The flame was huge at first, licking toward the ceiling but then settled down onto the top of the wax. The whole macabre scene was enough to amaze Xavier.

Alright. That was cool. I can givem twenty minutes.

Ezekial moved methodically like a surgeon would move as he was preparing before an operation. He now took the scalpel and flipped his palm over. Placing it over the silver bowl he dug it into his hand at the knuckle of his middle finger. He drug the blade all the way down to the base of his palm before clenching his hand into a fist. A steady river of blood dripped off his hand and into the bowl, filling it with the red viscous liquid rapidly. It sloshed heavily and rippled as it continued to flow from his self-inflicted wound.

“Seriously man? First you’re chopping on a corpse now self-mutilation? What are you a witch?”

“Certainly not. I’m what’s called a Magpie. Although I prefer petty dabbler in the dark arts. Now pay close attention.” He dumped the ground up flesh from the mortar into the silver bowl and waved his uninjured palm over it just as he’d done with the candles. The blood began to stir itself in a counter-clockwise motion as he turned to Xavier. “Here comes the pinch.” He pulled one of the needles from the ball of yarn and jabbed Detective Garcia in the arm with it.

“Ow! What the f—“

“You’re fine. Heaven help me you mewl like a whelp.” He reinserted the needle into the ball of yarn.

Xavier was growing tired of being affronted in Elizabethan. “Stab me again Monty Python. Then we’ll see who’s mewling…”

 Ezekial now picked up the other needle and dipped the tip of it into the mixture he’d concocted. Pulling it out he let some of the excess blood drip off the tip and back into the bowl before forcefully jabbing it directly into Anna Coolidge’s unbeating heart. There was a sickening crack as it passed between her ribs and into the soft muscle below. Dr. Laselle hadn’t performed a complete autopsy yet. He was waiting for the CDC before carrying out a full investigation.

Ezekial then closed his eyes and touched his index fingertips to his thumbs. With his arms outstretched to either side of him he pulled in a deep breath and began chanting in a language Xavier had never heard. He couldn’t even make out what the words were that he was saying. Just as Xavier was about to open his mouth with another comment the room began to quiver ever so slightly. The fluorescent lights above their heads flickered on and off in rapid succession like a strobe light.

“What are you—“ but he didn’t have time to say anything else. As Ezekial’s eyes flapped open an unseen force crept into the room and knocked the wind from Xavier. He couldn’t speak, move, or breathe. He just stared straight forward at the corpse on the table as she began to writhe back and forth, up and down, as if she were having a seizure. Amazingly, while her limbs thrashed wildly, she didn’t knock over a single candle.

Ezekial reached out and put both his hands on the girls’ arms to calm her flailing. The candles bounced up and down around them, threatening to burn them both to ash. He wasn’t sure but it sounded like the dead body of Anna Coolidge was growling at them. Her feet whipped and swung wildly sending the silver bowl of blood plummeting to the ground, splashing the contents all over the otherwise sterile facility.

Ezekial took a step back as the corpse abruptly shot straight up. Anna was now sitting there, staring straight forward at Xavier. His heart was pounding in his throat, his head felt like it was going to explode, but he still couldn’t utter a sound. There was some unknown power locking him in his place. Better or worse he was there to bear witness to the horrifying sight unfolding before his eyes.

“Mortal…” She mouthed in a guttural tone. It wasn’t the voice of the girl that had once inhabited that body. Of that he was certain. It sounded like a choir of voices speaking in tandem with one another as her dead lips moved, each voice more ghoulish than the last, in every octave he’d ever heard. Her head turned to gaze at Ezekial, her black sockets searching his eyes. The bones in her neck strained against the motion and cracked sending a sickening churl to the pit of Detective Garcia’s stomach. But Ezekial didn’t even waver; this clearly wasn’t his first time.

“I am addressing the malevolent entity within. What is your name?”

Her tongue-less maw opened so wide Xavier was certain it had come unhinged from the sockets. A spine-tingling laugh erupted from Anna’s throat. “Ezekial Cross.” It hissed. “Still alive we see?” Its query was followed by another laugh that caused every hair on Xavier’s body to stand on end and his blood to run cold as an ice floe. He’d never heard anything more terrifying in his life than this creature speaking from beyond the grave.

But Ezekial Cross was still unmoved. He stared back into the gaping black holes that had once housed Anna’s pretty blue eyes and repeated, “I am addressing the malevolent entity inside. What is your name?”

“Tsk, tsk, Ezekial.” It growled demonically in a slow meticulous pace. “Not as easy as Abel makes it look is it?” Xavier wasn’t sure but he was convinced that whatever had possessed Anna was trying to curl her rigid lips into a smile. Detective Garcia began shaking, his fear growing, and the monster inside the body in front of him could smell the terror. It turned to him now, still sneering. “Mortal. You have no business here. Crawl back to your squalor and rot away your feeble existence where you belong.”

“Look at me demon.” Ezekial taunted. Anna’s focus shifted now back to him. The head snapped back with another disgusting crack. Xavier was fairly certain he’d just heard her neck break twice. She tried to reach out and grab him but couldn’t pass the barrier of the candles. It howled at him in rage. “Not much use anyway.” Said Ezekial pointing his chin toward her hands. “Can’t grab a man without your mitts.”

“We don’t need a mortal’s hands to crush you Cross.”

“But you need a much stronger hold in the mortal realm to break my wards. Now, who am I speaking to?”

Anna’s smile widened, the flesh tearing at the corners of her mouth as it strained against the nature of rigor mortis. “She belongs to us Ezekial. They were promised to the horde, all of them.”

“All of who?”

“All of the inhabitants of this sinkhole. Every last mortal. They will appease our palette. Their souls will alight for millennia in blazing torment. Our gullet shall dissolve their faiths for a thousand cycles at our leisure.”

“Who promised you?” Ezekial pressed on.

Another demonic laugh erupted from Anna. The demon inside her was enjoying this interaction with Ezekial. Another cold shudder ran through Xavier. He wasn’t sure if it was shock or magic that kept him rooted in place but the longer he stood there the more assured he became his heart was going to explode.

“One with more clout than you insignificant Immortal, Ezekial Cross. Just know there is nothing you can do to stop us. Our armies will consume you and all who stand at your side. Everything you try to protect will burn beneath the legions of Hell. Try as you might, you will fail.” And with that a ghastly howl burst forth from deep within the possessed girl and blew Ezekial’s hair and clothing back. From where Xavier stood he could smell the odor escaping her lips. It was the same smell volcanoes emitted; brimstone. The rotten egg stench was prevalent in its screech.

“Who sent you here demon?”

“Your kindred.” It snarled as it laughed derisively.

Ezekial was clearly taken aback by that. His expression melted from the one in charge to the one on the ropes. The invisible punch sent his heart reeling. From the look of betrayal in Ezekial’s eyes, Xavier could see that Ezekial Cross believed what this monster was telling him. Still, unfaltering and hard as stone he said, “You lie.”

“We do not lie Cross. You know this. It is not in our nature.”

Ezekial knew this was the truth. Demons could twist and contort the truth to suit their nefarious purposes but they were incapable of an outright lie. It was the fatal flaw of their design. “Abraham would not be working alone. Who is aiding him?”

“RETURN US!” The creature bellowed. “Or face the wrath of the legions of Hell!”

“To Hell with your wrath.”

 With that Ezekial reached forward and yanked the needle from Anna’s chest. Immediately the body fell backwards onto the morgue slab and the candles extinguished. Xavier’s body went limp and he almost collapsed to the ground but Ezekial caught him at the last minute. He stared down at the floor and watched as the blood mixture from the bowl soaked into the tiling and disappeared. It was as if it had just evaporated. Xavier felt dizzy; this was beyond overwhelming to him. And on top of it all his head pounded like he’d drank a gallon of whiskey the night before. His brain throbbed like a hangover on steroids.

“Oh…my head.” He muttered quietly. Every word sent a fresh knife of pain stabbing into his skull.

“I imagine it hurts. Here.” Ezekial reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out some Advil from a bottle. Xavier graciously accepted them and gulped the little blue pills down. Ezekial helped Xavier across the room and into the chair behind Corey’s desk. The beaten detective leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands, his dreadlocks swooning lazily around his head, and keeping his eyes shut away from light while his head pulsated.

“Alright. So I’ll bite.” He finally said, still quiet. “Magic’s real. What was that all about?”

“I was trying to discern what kind of demon we were dealing with and from the sounds of things it appears we’re dealing with a torment demon. Nasty buggers that lot.” Ezekial shoved his hands into his pockets, pulling out a pocket watch. He flipped the cover open and said, “twenty minutes is up mate. Told ya I’d make a believer out of you.”

He slapped Xavier on the back which sent a fresh spike of pain surging into his brain. He winced and shut his eyes even harder. “So what next Big Ben?”

“We find the Eye, we deactivate the artifact, and save New Orleans.” He smiled widely which seemed odd to Xavier considering the dire straits they were in now. “With a little luck there’ll be tits and whiskey for everyone next week and not a demon in sight.”

“So where’s this Eye thingy at?”

Ezekial’s smile grew impossibly wide, “That’s what we have to figure out. Isn’t this fun lad?” He said punching him several times playfully and lightly in the upper arm. Xavier gripped his temples even harder.

Oh yeah, he thought bitterly.

Just a barrel of laughs…

Xavier almost didn’t want to ask but he knew he had to. “What does your brother have to do with all of this?”

Ezekial’s face turned to steel and set in solemnity, “I haven’t the slightest clue detective. But believe me. I have every intention of finding out.” 

And for the first time since he’d met him, Ezekial fell silent as the grave.