Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

Her voice becomes firm, as though she is hardening herself against the rest of the story. She sounds oddly detached. “Back then, I only knew of one way to exorcise a demon.”

This part of the story I already know. Brenner’s heard it, too. “You killed him.” I remember her exact words from before: It looked like Matt, and it talked like Matt, but it wasn’t Matt, so I shot him six times in the face.

“That’s right. So then, without Matt’s body, and my resistance too strong, Boca’s spirit had only one other choice for a vessel.”

“His daughter,” Brenner says.

Sitting up suddenly, Hillerman takes a long pull from the beer, then slams it down on the coffee table. “Her name is Tabitha Durran.”

“She’s the demon summoner you’re looking for?”

Hillerman nods. “She disappeared. It’s been a decade. I’ve gone to every FUA in the country. Tracked hundreds of demons. Exorcised them, provoked them, lured them out. Anything to keep my finger on the pulse of the Deep world, because eventually it will lead me back to Tabitha Durran, and when I find her…” She closes her fist around the neck of the beer bottle and squeezes. “Shayne, you once asked why I do this job. Now you know.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“You got something to say?”

“No, I want you to say it. Tell me what you are.”

“What I am?”

“Your necklace explains the underworld current I feel from you, but it doesn’t explain your powers. You can see the Deep. You can hear demons.”

“Maybe those aren’t powers. Maybe those are a curse.”

“Or maybe they’re signs of possession. Maybe you’re a vessel for demons. Like Ruby said, it takes one to know one.” When she doesn’t respond, I say, “Take the sunglasses off.”

She doesn’t budge. There’s a sudden tension in the room that pulls the claws from my fingertips. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brenner take a step back. Hooking one finger around the frame of her shades, Hillerman rips them from her face. I’m taken aback by the eyes that stare intensely at me. They’re not demon eyes. They don’t burn with hatred. These are the eyes of a broken woman. Glossy from alcohol; puffy from emotion; red from strain; dark-circled from stress; hardened to stone from countless disappointments. She may or may not be a vessel for demons, but one thing’s for sure: She is still haunted by them.

“Hey, same team, remember?” Brenner says. “Can we hit the pause button on this for now? I’m still missing connections.”

Hillerman’s eyes remain fixed on mine, even though her words are for Brenner: “A human who becomes a vessel for demons is called a proxy. The connection between a demon and its proxy can be strengthened by sharing physical characteristics between each other. The stronger the resemblance of the proxy to the demon, the stronger the bond between them. Think of a voodoo doll. The more the doll looks like the target, the more effective the doll.”

Brenner processes the idea, coming to the obvious conclusion. “So this demon, Boca, is using Tabitha Durran as a proxy. She’s his daughter, so there’s already a strong connection. Hell, they share the same genes.”

“All true. But there’s always room for even stronger connections, and Tabitha is committed, I’ll give her that.” Hillerman finally breaks contact with my eyes to look at Brenner. This is the part he’s been waiting for, and she wants him to comprehend. “The most unique physical characteristic of Boca was his chin. Burnt and scarred by acid.”

Brenner looks disturbed. “She did something to her chin? So she’d look more like him?”

“She used lye. Easy to get at any hardware store. Pure lye powder will dissolve an entire human body in three hours. She used a 40 percent solution, which will only do this…” She turns around and lifts up her shirt, revealing a mosaic of dark, shiny scars all over her back. She offers no explanation about how she got them, and I’m not sure I want to know. Pulling her shirt down, she continues. “Imagine scars like that, but all down her chin and neck.”

Brenner is amazed. “She poured it on herself?”

“I told you, she’s committed.”

“And that strengthened their proxy bond?”

“More than anything else could, even DNA. It’s not just the chin they share now. It’s the pain that goes with it. Pain is power.”

Brenner slides me a concerned look. I silently agree—this is insane, even for the underworld.

“Boca is a summoner demon,” Hillerman explains. “When Tabitha became his proxy, she inherited that power. She can materialize demons from the Deep. It only lasts for a moment, but that’s all it needs to possess a body.”

Brenner nods, seeing the pieces start to fit together. “A demon horde recruits necromancers to reanimate dead bodies and a summoner to materialize a demon.”

“With a necro and a summoner, you have immortality. When one body gets destroyed, they put you right into another.”

“And Arael Moaz was on his death bed,” I say, fitting the final piece of the puzzle.

Hillerman releases a long breath. “The plan was for him to go out in flames during the war with police—”

“Which we stopped,” I interject.

“—and then for his necromancer to reanimate a new body.”

“His necromancer, who we killed,” I point out.

Hillerman wags a finger at me. “King Paul was gunning for a spot in the ring, but he’s not the necromancer. We know Arael already had an active necro, because of the revenants that got to Haley. The black chin is a proxy marker. It’s an indication of their owner.”

“Like a brand?” I ask.

“That’s right. And this particular brand is unmistakable.”

“Tabitha Durran,” Brenner says.

“The timeline adds up. Ten years ago, she disappears. Ten years ago, Ruby Paizo takes an audience with a female summoner, but declines. Ten years ago, Arael Moaz gets a sudden boost in confidence. The East Side horde has a spike in fealty. Some plan was obviously coming together. I’ve been tracking it all along,