Whiskey Witches - F.J. Blooding (novels to read in english txt) 📗
- Author: F.J. Blooding
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Dexx needed help. He needed a witch who had seen more shit than he’d lived through. He needed someone who understood the arcane, the occult, the angels, and the demons. He needed someone who could scare the pants off the boogieman. “Where the hell is Alma?”
“Here,” the old woman’s cantankerous voice called from the front door. “What happened?”
Brian disappeared and came back with Alma and Tru in tow.
“Dear God,” she muttered. “Girl, what have you done?”
“Grandma.” Tears studded Paige’s eyes. “I need you.”
“You,” Dexx barked, pointing at Paige. “Stay strong. No tears. No fears. Nothing. You stay with me in the here and now, is that understood?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing major,” the doctor said, putting his bag back together. Dexx helped him over the salt line. “A few cuts. Nothing too deep or spectacular. What a sick bastard.”
“If you only knew,” Dexx said under his breath.
“If you need anything,” the doctor said to Brian on his way out.
“Will do, Doc. Drive safe. Say hi to your wife for me.”
The doctor glanced at Paige one last time before leaving. “Yeah.”
That left a very silent room filled with people more than a little on edge.
“So are we going to exorcise this thing, or what?” Alma asked.
Dexx shook his head, biting his lips. “We need help on this one. You, sure, but maybe more. I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?” Her worried gaze settled on Paige.
Dexx stepped into the salt circle and peeled away the bandage on Paige’s chest. “This.”
“I can’t see it.” Paige pulled her chin down. “The bandage is in the way.”
“It’s fine.”
“Obviously not. I need to see.”
Alma craned her neck to peer over his shoulder without entering the ethereal cage. A startled breath whistled through her teeth. “Damn it.”
“Grandma. Will someone tell me what’s wrong?”
“You mean besides the demon residing inside your head?” Dexx pressed the medical tape back onto her skin.
Alma hit his arm lightly. “Hush your mouth, cub.”
“I can’t believe this is really happening.” Brian remained at the door, almost as if coming closer might contaminate him. “Exorcism. For real?”
“’Fraid so. Alma, we need a priest.”
She widened her hands. “Father Gregory is in Dallas.”
“Too far way.”
“There is a priest.” Brian took a small step into the room. “At a neighboring parish. I’m guessing he would probably know about exorcisms and the like.”
Dexx frowned at Alma. “Using a different priest is a bad idea. They have to petition the Church. We don’t have time for that.”
“We’re in Louisiana.” Brian raised his eyebrows, his expression tight. “There’s a lot that goes on here the Church doesn’t know about.”
“Point. Before we truss her up like a goose, can you get your priest on the phone and find out if he’s any good at this kind of thing?”
Brian disappeared down the hall.
Alma pressed her fingers against her eyelid. “Ah, sweetie.”
Paige’s head wobbled. “I know who the third person is.”
“Way to hold the punchline, Pea.” Dexx motioned for her to hurry up. “Who is it?”
“Sven. Sven Seven Tails.”
“A demon. A lot of good a court of law’s going to do them.” That answered so many of his questions. This was bad news. The symbols. The sacrifices. The brands. Everything rang with clarity.
Alma chucked her chin in agreement. “How did the demon get in?”
“Drug, mostly. I couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.” Paige let out a sobbing breath. “I was so scared. And then he used my memories against me.”
No one asked what memories. Everyone knew.
Alma glared at him.
Dexx returned the glare.
Paige looked away.
Dexx ground his teeth. This was a mess.
And now he had to somehow fix it.
Before the demon did it for him.
Dexx drove Jackie the forty-one miles down the road to the town of Denham Springs and Brian’s priest. Dexx had an hour to kill with no time to lose. Paige slept in the back seat, Alma guarded over her. Which left Dexx all alone in the front seat. The highway stretched in front of him like a licorice whip, no lights to brighten the way, no cars to help pass the time. Just him and Jackie and a really long road of pitch black forever.
He gnawed on his thumbnail. Jackie flew smoothly over the pavement. They were in deep trouble. He knew that. He just didn’t know how to get them out.
He threw back his head in frustration, resting it against the seat as he drummed a beat on the steering wheel. No music. He didn’t want to wake up Paige. One, because she needed the sleep. Two, because he didn’t know who would wake up first, her or the demon.
He had to send the thing back. No doubt about it. But what about the consequences? What about Paige? If it came down to sending the demon back, or keeping Paige alive, which would he choose? He knew which one it had to be. As soon as they showed their ugly asses, he revoked their visas. No questions. No talking. No playing. Just “send me a postcard from Hell and enjoy the trip.” Quick. Easy. Simple.
He checked his mirror, watching Alma’s weary form in the darkness.
Paige made it not easy. He didn’t know if he could do what had to be done. He cared about her, even knowing how stupid it was. With his job, the traveling, the danger. He couldn’t promise her he’d be home every night. That was the normal side of things.
It was her gift. He’d known about years ago. Hell, before he met her, he’d been sure she was the devil. She made demons, something so simple, more complicated. A gray, not black and white. And now that she was an open door to the demons she summoned? What was he supposed to do? With her? For her? What could he do?
He had no idea.
The world went from black, to gray, to hesitant color as the sun rose in his review mirror. He had to come up with a plan. That’s all he knew.
By the time he parked in front of the church, he hadn’t gotten any closer to a real plan.
As the car purred in idle, he leaned down to peer at the church through the passenger window. “I sure hope this works. You know, having a priest do it instead of someone like me.”
Alma squinted through the bright morning sunlight. “She’ll probably be waking up soon.” She pushed the seat in front of her forward, and dragged her aging body out of the car with a groan. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Dexx followed her lead. He popped the trunk, handing Alma his bag of goodies before retrieving Paige’s unconscious body out of his backseat. His shoulder screamed at him.
No, it moaned. Loudly.
The main door to the church opened enough to show a man with brown hair.
Alma turned to Dexx, her white hair a frazzled mess, her clothes rumpled. Dexx hoped he didn’t look that bad, but he wasn’t holding any bets on that one.
“Dexx, this is Andy. He will be assisting Father Staats.”
“You know him?” Dexx couldn’t be more surprised if Alma sprouted wings.
“He, um, he likes to be called Reece.” Andy wrung his hands, his expression anxious.
“I worked with the good Father when I served.” Alma’s expression was tired, but friendly. “Andy came along later. But I never thought I would be bringing Paige to see him. Not like this, anyway.”
“Great.” Dexx flashed a pained smile. Andy was the epitome of green-behind-the-ears. His jeans were nice, and his button up shirt was pressed. Dexx raised his eyebrows instead of offering a hand. He hitched Paige a little higher, glancing down at her expectantly.
“Is this going to be, like, a real exorcism?” Andy rubbed his ear. “Like, really?”
Alma crossed her arms over her chest.
Dexx just stood there, Paige getting heavier with every “uh” and “like”.
“Oh, right.” Andy scratched his head. “Right, right, right. Gotcha. Yeah. Let’s, uh.” He held the large wooden doors open. “Yeah, um, get her inside.”
Dexx carried Paige through the threshold, into the large interior of the room of worship. His eyes crept higher and higher until they could go no further. The pale morning sun filtered through the small windows, shedding little light into the massive room. Pictures in gold frames of various saints lined the walls. He didn’t know his saints. He
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