The Witch and the Englishman (Page 27)

“No, but they operate out of fear and, in fact, they feed on it. It didn’t need hands if humans were willing to kill for it.”

“But…why would they kill for it?”

“I suspect this demon worked slowly at first, meaning, it first came into their lives through their dreams. From there, it preyed on fear and depression and drugs—and anything else that would give it an ‘in.’”

“Did they know the demon was there? I mean, were they aware of it?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I doubt it. Unable to resist it, each of the homeowners undoubtedly found themselves in a darker and darker space, until they, too, could be fully possessed.”

“Jesus! So, what can people do against a demon? How would they resist something like this? Not everyone is, you know, a witch.”

“Fortify your home with blessings. Sage your home—”

“Sage it?” he interrupted.

“The herb, sage, is known to repel negative energy and malicious spirits. And you should be aware immediately if, say, you feel unreasonably depressed or sad or angry.”

“But some people do get sad and depressed and angry.”

“But not unreasonably so, and not without good reason. Often such feelings are followed by disturbing thoughts.”

“And this is the demon causing those thoughts?” Smithy asked.

“Perhaps, perhaps not.”

“What would someone do next?”

“Meditate and pray, and perhaps bring in a holy man or woman. Someone to further bless yourself and your home. The key is to not let anything get out of hand. Demons and other, darker entities must, in the end, obey the light.”

“Did you say darker entities? Lord help me.”

“That’s a good prayer, too,” I said, and nudged him in the gut.

“And you really, you know, defeated the demon…using your, you know, magic?”

He comically waved his hands in front of him.

I giggled. It was a much-needed giggle.

“I had help,” I said.

“So, is it really gone? Is it really over?” he asked.

“I think so, yes.”

“But there are other demons out there, right?”

“I imagine so.”

“God, I hope I never cross paths with something like that.”

“And if you do…”

“Right, you’d better believe I’m calling you.”

“Why, Detective, I’m flattered.”

He grumbled, and then looked at me long and hard. There was a chance—a small chance—that he might have trimmed his mustache straight this time. And then, he smiled and it went all haywire again.

“I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo,” he said.

“So am I.”

“We’re going to have to be creative with your witness statement.”

“We’ll think of something,” I said. “Can you take my statement tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Good idea. You can drive yourself home in just a few minutes. It looks like the forensics team is releasing your car without tearing it apart.”

“There’s nothing in it that relates to what happened here.”

“Nope. There isn’t. Excuse me for a minute.” He gave me a half smile and stepped out of the car.

Almost immediately, Millie the ghost appeared in the driver’s seat that had just been occupied by the detective.

“You did good today,” she said, her words appearing in my mind.

“So did you,” I said aloud, although quietly. No one outside of the car would have heard me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I liked him.”

“The Englishman?”

“Yes,” I said.

“He’s free now.”

“He’s also dead. No offense.”

She nodded and didn’t seem offended, then reached out and took my hand. I mostly didn’t feel it, except for a small, warm tingle. I did my best to squeeze back, as we sat there together, watching the crime scene investigators pour in and out of the big, dark, demon-free home.

My phone whistled, startling me. A text message. I considered ignoring it, but instead, reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out my Galaxy Note.

It was a message from Samantha Moon. You’ve been quiet.

I’ve been fighting a demon, I texted back.

Did you win?

Of course.

Glad to hear it. Drinks tonight?

I thought you would never ask.

The kids are with Mary Lou. I’ll be there in an hour.

Drinks with a vampire after vanquishing a demon and sitting next to a ghost.

Yeah, my life is weird, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End