The Awakening

He raised a hand to her. He smiled again, that slow rueful smile. "I don't believe that you're being plagued by the power of suggestion. You see, there are plenty of things out there that go bump in the night And I'm sure that there really are demons, and your life may depend on your belief in them."



Despite the fact that Eddie Martin's store was as crazy as Morwenna's Wiccan shop, he didn't at all mind the fact that Jade DeVeau was still at his desk, browsing his manuscripts. He inclined his head when Finn entered the shop, indicating that he should go back and find Jade at his leisure. Finn felt badly about having taken over his business area, but he didn't want to leave Megan alone long with Lucian DeVeau, though he didn't know exactly why. The guy had his own beautiful wife, and the two seemed so compatible, they were almost as one.



Jade didn't see him arrive at first, she was so engrossed in what she was reading. It was a bound book, not ancient, but very old.



"Jade?"



She looked up, startled. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him—almost suspiciously—and he wondered what she had found.



"Hey," she said, her forced tone belying her manner.



"Lucian sent me to get you. He's with Megan down at the coffee shop." He paused. "I'm supposed to collect you, and we're supposed to meet them. He somehow got some ladies to inhale their coffee. We have a table, and need to meet."



"Of course."



But she stared at him, not closing the book.



"What is it?"



"Your name."



"What?"



"Your name is in this book."



" What?" he repeated, coming around behind her.



"It's an account of the events of the Cabal Thorne killing… a diary. The writing is very confusing, hurried." She looked up at him, studying him. "I keep reading it all over and over again, but I can't quite tell if Finnegan Douglas was among the citizen vigilantes, or…"



"Or?"



"The Satanists," she said flatly.



Chapter 18



"I'm telling you, it's impossible!" Finn said vehemently, both hands surrounding the large coffee cup that held his extra large cappuccino. "Look, I know that we go back, way back, in Louisiana. I have my great-great grandfather's Civil War diary. He put together a militia outfit, and when things got bad, wound up being commissioned as a captain in the regular army. He was killed at the Battle of Cold Harbor. You can look him up—his name appears in any number of southern Civil War museums! He was a Dixie-singing Rebel, for fact."



Jade nodded. "We believe you, Finn. But the Civil War started in 1861. The events here preceded that by nearly sixty years."



Finn leaned back, staring around the table.



He had seen the passage that referred to a Finnegan Douglas having been in the area when it was



"rumored" that a vigilante party had taken care of the "perceived" evil of Cabal Thorne. And, like Jade, he had been unable to determine if the writer had referred to the said Douglas as having been among Thome's followers, or the vigilantes. The writer had been scornful of any of the proceedings. Having escaped an accusation of witchcraft himself by timing alone, the author of the words, a man named Ethan Miller, was writing from hearsay, and the script had been so full of "thees" and "thous" and other strange spellings that only Jade's deciphering had made any of it clear to him at all.



"My name isn't Finnegan, by the way. It's legally just Finn. Finn Douglas." He flushed slightly, then grimaced. "I have a middle name—Beauregard. I'm telling you, we're as Southern as pecan pie."



Jade shrugged. "Maybe it's just a coincidence."



"It's not a coincidence," Lucian said flatly.



Megan leaned forward suddenly. "You know, I've just realized—this is beyond insanity. Finn, you were right. We need to get the hell out of here."



He turned and looked at Megan. Her eyes were on his, bright and determined. They all looked at her.



"Finn wanted to leave before. I had it in my head that we were imagining a lot of things. That we were totally vulnerable to the power of suggestion. Then I thought—I thought that something was wrong with Finn. Then me. Then both of us. But what would be crazy would be to stay here! Whatever one believes



—if there are or aren't demons—there are people capable of torture and murder in the world, we all know that. So, since I seem to be a target for whoever or whatever, the intelligent thing to do would be to get beyond range of it."



No one replied to her right away. Finn stretched his hand out across the table.



Jade cleared her throat. "I think they may be right."



"It would seem the logical thing," Lucian agreed. "But I don't know. I just wonder if they can really be out of reach. We don't know exactly what is happening. So far, most of what is going on happens in dreams.



You can't run away from dreams."



"The dreams… are all the same. When I have them, I'm being… attacked. When Finn has them… I guess he sees himself as some kind of god or being walking through adoring crowds to take… kind of a sexual prize, I guess."



"One fear that I've had," Finn admitted, "is that the killing in Boston may be related to what's going on now. Say our coven of Satanists arranged for her murder. Well planned, since I don't know how anyone here could have known that I was in the city! Then," he hesitated, not looking at his wife, "say they wanted to make Megan another sacrifice. They've caused a rift between us, so I'd make a good fall guy for both killings."



Lucian sat back in his chair, studying Finn. "You've got an interesting point right there. How could anyone know that you were going to stop in Boston? Most drivers would get through the big, traffic-riddled city as quickly as possible. And, if I understood you right, you felt as if you were actually compelled to stop off in Boston."



"I don't even remember," Finn said with disgust.



"Someone has some kind of mind control, that seems clear enough," Jade said.



"All right, hold up," Megan said with practicality and determination. "What exactly is a demon?"



Both Lucian and Finn opened their mouths, but then stared at Jade.



Lucian gave her a crooked smile. "You wrote the book."



Jade shrugged. "The term 'demon' comes from the Greek 'daimon,' and what it actually means is 'replete with wisdom.' In some societies, a demon may be considered either a good or evil spirit, and some people believe that they are just mischief makers. In the Middle Ages, there were a number of Christian demonologists, and they classified various demons, had them serving different princes of evil, and so forth. Exorcism dates back to the early sixteen hundreds. In the days of the witch hunts—across Europe



—it was believed that demons could gain human form and that they were terrible sexual molesters. A succubus was a female demon who came down to seduce men. An incubus took on the male form and seduced women. Demons are supposed to be sterile, and yet, they were able to impregnate women by drawing upon the semen of living men, and making it their own. There are all kinds of accounts of demon molestations, including a number which have to do with haunted houses, or with poltergeist activity.



Usually," she said ruefully, "these cases turn out to be either the longing or loneliness of certain living souls."



Jade shook her head. "But… it sounds as if demons are as laughable as the thought of old Rebecca Nurse really being a witch practicing black arts."



"No, that's just it. Say Rebecca Nurse was innocent of any kind of witchcraft—malignant or benign. That doesn't mean that there aren't Wiccans—your cousin is one. And by the fierce of avowal of modern day Wiccans, no evil is done in the practice of true Wicca. But hell, the rites of Satanism can be very similar.



And some self-proclaimed witches have been evil people—take Aleistar Crowley."



"He was still just a man," Jade said.



"Probably," Lucian agreed.



"So what you're saying," Finn interjected, "is that most reported cases are invented, or hallucinated. But that doesn't mean that the real thing isn't out there somewhere."



"Exactly," she said softly.



"I don't know if I can believe any of this," Megan said softly.



"Well, I do know this," Jade said. "Whatever you decide about leaving, don't tell anyone."



Megan looked uncertainly at Finn. "Don't you think the sooner we tell Sam Tartan the better?"



"Megan, he's not going to give us a reference once we don't show up tomorrow night no matter what,"



Finn said flatly.



"Don't say anything, and don't worry about it," Lucian said. "It won't matter."



"How can you say it won't matter?" Megan asked.



Lucian shrugged. "Midnight is when things are going to happen. You're scheduled to play at midnight. I can guarantee you, someone has other plans. Whatever they are, I don't know. But they don't intend for you to be playing at midnight. The witching hour."



Megan glanced at her watch. "It's nearly six! We have to get ready to go in."



"We don't start until nine, Megan. We're fine," Finn said.



"We should still get going. You can drive me to Martha's first, then we'll stop by Huntington House, and be at the hotel with time to get a quick bite before we start." She looked at Lucian and Jade. "You'll be there tonight?"



"Oh, yes, certainly," Lucian said.



"Safety in numbers," Jade added.



"Remember, don't say anything. To anyone," Lucian warned. "Whether you choose to go, or stay, make sure you don't give anyone advance warning."



Megan looked at Finn. He smiled his assurance to her. "All right," she said softly.



They hadn't asked for the check, but their waitress came by, and Lucian insisted on offering his credit card. They started out of the coffee shop as a foursome.