“A patient named James Henry. He claims he witnessed you shoot Penelope Pattack. He was injured when he tried to stop you, and the injury was bad enough he had to be admitted here.”

  “I have never heard of him. I also don’t think I have ever fired a gun, let alone used one to shoot my friend,” I wrote. I thought, I’m far more likely to kill someone with a demon than shoot them. Jerome snorted and tried to cover it with a sneeze, but I was positive he was snorting at my thought.

  “I have an alibi.” I wrote down. Surely Miss Wu and Tameka can vouch for me being at the restaurant yesterday evening. “Jerome and I went to Thai Palace for dinner and when we got back, Penelope was in her car in our driveway already bleeding. How is she?” I scribbled on a brand-new page. I passed the piece of paper with my version of the evening to the detective and the other asking how Penelope was to my father.

  “She’s still not stable enough for surgery. Michael is working with the hospital staff to get her ready for it,” My father answered. I began scribbling again.

  “How did someone summon a hell prince’s spirit?” I asked.

  “A potion,” Detective Lazaruk answered. I frowned at him.

  “Does the St. Charles police honestly believe I tried to kill this man with a demon after shooting my friend?” I wrote down, and then lifted my arm, tugging on my wrist that was handcuffed to the bed.

  “I admit, I have doubts, especially after talking to Miguel Smith with the AESPCA who was with you at the time of the demon attack. The other demon attack on our station is another point in your favor. I know you couldn’t have done that one.” Detective Lazaruk shrugged at me after finishing this statement. “The problem is that someone did summon a demon to kill James Henry as well as attack our station, and not everyone is convinced it wasn’t you.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I wrote.

  “Which part?” My father asked.

  “All of it,” I scribbled down. “How much longer am I going to be forced to use this tube? Also, I’m tired.” Dad nodded and began to gather stuff up when a nurse bustled in.

  “I was hoping to do this while you were still sedated, but I guess that’s not going to happen; we’ve had trouble keeping you under,” The nurse said, and I think she was talking to me. I considered flipping her the bird, but before I could make too many expressive hand gestures, she was standing at the bed next to my head. She grabbed the tube and jerked.

  “FUCK!” I shouted, once it was out.

  “Now, if you shout, we’ll have to put it back in. We want you talking as little as possible.” In my head I cursed her up one side and down the other until she scurried away in shame, because why the hell would you do that to someone who was awake.

  “Go away,” I whispered to her, and let my eyes close.

  “That’s better.” She gave me a large cheery smile and I had to control the urge to tell her to go fuck herself right off the edge of a cliff. Jerome snickered. Then she did what nurses did, she bustled around trying to make me more comfortable. She failed because the only way I was going to be more comfortable was if someone took off the handcuff and I was allowed to go home and recover in my own bed. Since both of those things were unlikely, I sighed as loudly as I could at her.

  “If you need something, use the call button,” she said, and finally left.

  “I may have unintentionally lied. It seems like I do know Henry James, something about screws,” I whispered.

  “You’re thinking of the writer; the guy who said he saw you shoot Penelope is James Henry,” my dad replied.

  “Oh.” I sighed out the word. “Why do parents give their kids weird names?”

  “Why is James Henry a weird name?” Dad asked.

  “Because you’re correct, I was thinking of The Turning of the Screw. But if his parents had named him Bernard or Peter, I wouldn’t have confused him with Henry James. I don’t know why I asked you, you named two out of four kids Sun Burns.” I yawned. They’d named my baby sister something more normal, Geneva. “How long ago did I get shot?” I asked.

  “About eighteen hours ago.” Detective Lazaruk told me.

  “Is that all?” I yawned again. “I’ve never been shot before; it doesn’t hurt as much as I expected it would.”

  “That’s because of the drugs,” Dad said, pointing at the bag hanging near the bed. “Michael insisted they hang something of his making.”

  “And they agreed?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s Michael, what were they going to do? Argue with him?” Dad said.

  “How’s Mom?” My mom had given birth in January to baby Geneva. It turned out being a hearth witch worked miracles for giving birth and having babies. Mom had gone into labor and three hours later, little Geneva was here. My sister and I discussed this because she too had given birth quickly with both Ariel and Aurora. Her labor lasted five hours with Ariel and just two with Aurora. It gave me some hope that when and if I decided to have kids it would be fast. Also, Mom’s hormones had adjusted quickly after the birth without any serious side effects, such as post-partum depression. If anything, she’d glowed with joy after Geneva’s birth for months and months. The glowing had only stopped in the last few weeks, and I am being literal about the glowing.

  “Your mom...” Detective Lazaruk started and then stopped.

  “She’s not happy with the St. Charles police department,” Dad said, and a smile spread across his entire face so wide I was worried it would hurt him.

  “Because of the drugs, I can’t really question you without someone here. Do you think you can handle some questions? The sooner we get this part over with, the sooner we can hopefully resolve this,” The detective said.

  “Okay, I know this is going to make Dad mad, but may I have an AESPCA rep here?” I asked.

  “Investigator Smith is waiting in the hallway,” Dad said. “I was actually hoping you’d ask for an AESPCA rep.” Dad smiled, probably because of the memory of my mother telling Detective Lazaruk and anyone else affiliated with the police department where they could get off. But I found even the small smile encouraging.

  “Yes, Investigator Smith can represent you in this matter, or you can have one of their lawyers represent you,” Lazaruk replied.

  “I want Investigator Miguel Smith,” I told him, with a nod. Dad and Jerome got up and left. As soon as they opened the door, Miguel Smith came into the room. He took a chair near the bed, facing Detective Lazaruk, who was standing near the wall toward the end of the bed.

  ”Detective, please sit down. And since I’m not supposed to talk loudly, you may need to come closer,“ I said. The detective nodded and pulled out a tape recorder from his pocket. Miguel Smith, to my surprise, did the same. Then he pulled out a pen and notebook, a full-sized notebook with unlined paper. I couldn’t write on unlined paper; my handwriting would start slanting upwards or downwards or both and it was just a mess.

  “This is Detective Tyrann Lazaruk speaking with Exorcist Soleil Burns in her hospital room. She has requested Investigator Miguel Smith with the AESPCA be present for our conversation. Due to Miss Burns being heavily medicated, Investigator Smith is acting as her legal representative,” Lazaruk said.

  “That’s an uncommon name, I like it,” I said to the detective.

  “Uh, thank you.” The detective blushed ever so slightly. “Miss Burns, Investigator Smith provided us with information regarding your alibi for the shooting of Penelope Pattack. Are you capable of bi-location?”

  “What?” I asked, feeling one of my eyebrows raise of its own accord. “I’m not positive I know what bi-location is, but it sounds complicated and like it might be difficult magic, so I’m going with no.”

  “Bi-location is the act of creating a copy of yourself so you can be in two places at one time,” Miguel explained to me. “You are correct, it requires strong magic.” It was then that I realized the pen Miguel had gotten out was writing by itself on the paper. The handwriting was very neat and orderly.

  “I can’t even do that,” I said, pointing at the pen. “I am magically inept. Also, why would I want two of me? Sometimes I find it difficult dealing with one of me. I am incapable of bi-location,” I finally said sternly.

  “A simple no would have sufficed,” Miguel said, with the hint of a smile on his face.

  “Probably, but seriously, people need to realize I am not capable of big or strong magic unless it deals with the Stygian. I really am magically inept, it is my own fault, but whatever.” I punctuated the sentence with a shrug that hurt all the way down my body. The detective had a strange look on his face, and I would have given a lot for Jerome or Remiel to be in the room and tell me what he was thinking.

  “Miss Burns, are you familiar with a man named James Henry?” Detective Lazaruk asked.

  “No,” I answered, trying to be concise.

  “So, you have no idea why someone would want to kill him or why he would tell us you tried to kill him and Penelope?”

  “No. If you’d like me to speculate on the matter, I will say he is somehow connected to my Uncle Uriel, who is determined to see me in jail or dead for reasons I do not know. It could be because I’m nephilim or because I’m female or because I’m both or because I’ve been designated an archangel and he objected very strongly to that, or because he’s unhinged after his daughter Francesca went to the Third Plane to serve a jail term for trying to bring demons to earth, specifically Beelzebub. Or because he has a screw loose. Or all of these reasons combined,” I told him. His look got weirder. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to have a mind reader close by at this moment. Of course, they are never around when you need them, only when it’s inconvenient or you don’t actually need them or want them there.

  “If a demon did attempt to kill Mr. Henry, Magda Red with the AESPCA Stygian Relations department may be able to find out which one and who summoned it by asking the demons,” Miguel Smith said.

  “Yeah, right,” I snorted. “The demon will be able to tell you it was summoned by a witch or shifter or whatever with a potion, but it’s not going to be able to give you the name of the summoner unless it knows the name, and realistically, demons don’t put effort into knowing the names of the living, that’s why the majority...” I stopped before I finished the sentence. Demons lie. A demon could tell Magda Red that the Exorcist had summoned it to kill James Henry. Of course, that would depend on the demon she asked or the demon’s sire. Ashtaroth wouldn’t allow one his demons to lie against me. Neither would Leviathan. Belial and Beelzebub probably would. Some demons, like Dantalian, wouldn’t lie about me unless ordered by their sire, and in Dantalian’s case that was Ashtaroth. Dantalian and some others enjoyed pizza way too much to lie and tell someone I had summoned them to kill. If I’m arrested and sent to the Third Plane for attempted murder, that would really cut into their pizza earnings.

  “Demons are known liars,” Detective Lazaruk replied to Miguel.

  “This is true. We are stuck at an impasse, Detective,” Miguel responded and looked at the tape recorder. “The person the AESPCA would turn to in this situation is Miss Burns, because she is an incredible summoner and demons can’t lie to her. Although, some just WOULDN’T lie to her, because oddly, they respect her. Miss Burns has actually been assisting the AESPCA with the home invasion robberies of magical artifacts because the perpetrators are using possession to take control of the homeowners. Two days ago, at my request, Miss Burns summoned one of the demons that had been invoked for one of the robberies and allowed me to question it. To complicate the matter more, Miss Burns was with me and the archangel Azrael and several other members of the AESPCA at the time the demon was summoned to kill Mr. Henry. Furthermore, you were not made aware of Mr. Henry being an eyewitness to the attack on Penelope Pattack until your department received an anonymous tip that Mr. Henry was in the hospital and had just been attacked by a demon. As part of my investigation after you took Miss Burns into custody, I spoke with several nurses on Mr. Henry’s floor. Mr. Henry did not mention to any of them that he had been attacked by a demon, nor did he mention he was a witness to an attempted murder. After establishing that, I went to speak with Mr. Henry, and he had no idea what I was talking about. A nurse told me he was hospitalized for a severe kidney infection and has dementia.”

  The hospital door burst open and Raphael, Gabriel, and someone I didn’t know stood there. The angels were smiling. The other one looked like he had swallowed worms or something else gross and squiggly.

  “Detective Lazaruk, the charges against Miss Burns are being dropped.” The one who looked like he’d swallowed worms spoke. “We’ve received a sworn statement from Mr. Henry that he does not know Miss Burns and did not witness her attempting to kill anyone, nor did a demon try to kill him.”

  “Yes, sir.” Detective Lazaruk turned off his tape recorder. “I believe that is a good idea, Captain.” His captain glowered at him, and I wondered if the captain was entering stroke territory. He pulled out a picture and handed it to the detective.

  “Miss Burns, before we go, can you identify the woman in this picture?” the captain asked, and Detective Lazaruk handed the picture to Miguel Smith.

  “That’s Janet Vincent, I’ve been looking all over for her to tell her that her sister was shot. Where was this taken and when?”

  “Yesterday. It was taken in the hallway outside Mr. Henry’s room, and we are positive she’s the one that called in the tip about the demon and Mr. Henry witnessing the shooting.” I felt my mouth fall open but was helpless to stop it. I just stared at him, the detective, and Miguel. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I couldn’t even think of a decent objection. What the fuck was Janet mixed up in? Janet was impulsive, sure, but she wouldn’t be mixed up in home invasion robberies, and she wouldn’t shoot her sister or try to cover it up by blaming me. Yet there she was, in the very hospital where her sister was, she hadn’t even stopped to check on her, and if the police were correct, she’d told them I tried to kill her sister. What the fuckity, fuck, fuck?

  With that the detective and captain left. Michael came into the room after Gabriel and Raphael.

  “Niece, I think you’re going to be needed sooner rather than later. Let’s get you out of here,” Michael said.

  “No, I’m healing fine. I’ll be good to go in a day or so,” I replied, waving Michael away.

  “It was neither a suggestion nor request,” Michael told me, lifting the ultra-thin, worthless blanket and exposing my foot. I pulled my foot back under the shitty blanket that all hospitals stock. Michael sighed at me.

  “This injury is painful, no need for you to suffer it,” I told him as he stuck his hand under the blanket to grab my other foot. I managed to pull it up, too, tucking both feet under my thighs as if I were sitting Indian Style.

  “Soleil,” Michael said, and I sighed. He was determined. I wanted to continue arguing, but he grabbed my hand, and I felt the magic flow into me. I could feel the wounds knitting themselves closed. Breathing became easier, and I hadn’t even realized I was struggling with it. “Someone tried to get you arrested. They then sent Belial to get you. Whatever their next move is, they want you out of the way for it. Being injured and lying in a hospital bed gives them that, when everything else has failed. This means whatever is coming is bad, and you can stop it, which also means it probably involves demons.” Michael suddenly sat down in a chair.

  “Great,” I said, looking at him. “I told you it was painful, and you shouldn’t do it.” I scolded him.

  “I am worthless against bad guys and demons. If you were going to be better in a day or two, then I will be better in a day or less. I’m a super-fast healer myself, which only makes sense since I can heal nearly everyone else,” Michael responded with a weak smile.

  “Michael,” I said, frowning at my uncle, who gasped for breath and then went back to breathing normally. Technically, he didn’t need to breath except to speak.

  “The bullet they put in Penelope has a magical spell on it and it’s silver. That’s why she’s struggling to remain stable enough for surgery. Once I heal this wound, I’m going to go deal with hers, because I suspect Penelope was an impediment to what happens next, too. That’s why they shot her and had you arrested. It just worked in their favor that an over-excited police officer shot you instead of letting you deal with Belial.” He ended his sentence with another gasp for breath.

  “You seem to be faring worse than I was with talking. Can you give the injury back to me and heal yourself?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “I’m older than you, and I’ve had a lot of damage done to this old body over the millennia. I’ll still heal faster than you.”

  I wanted to continue protesting and make my uncle give me back the injury, because watching him suffer with it was gut wrenching. I opened my mouth and Gabriel cleared his throat; I finally turned my attention to him. The glare he was giving me made me shut my mouth. He and my father were both glaring at me, and I didn’t know why, unless it was just because I was being obstinate. I didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, so you said you might be able to track Janet using her life force and now we know she was here, can you track her using that?” I asked, instead of lodging more protests.

  “I was going to talk to you about that. There’s something wonky with Janet’s life force. You can see souls; does it work in video?” Michael asked and took another gulp of air. I tried not to frown.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never tried to see souls on a video,” I said. “I don’t see the souls of actors or actresses when I watch movies, though, so probably not.”

  “Damn!” Gabriel replied.

  “Why?” I asked him.

  “Well, Michael says there’s something off about her life force. Our theory is she’s possessed by a demon,” Gabriel said.

  “I can ask around and find out. However, that wouldn’t explain why her personality has changed so dramatically. The Janet I knew wouldn’t be involved in crime and she wouldn’t frame someone for trying to kill her sister and she wouldn’t summon a hell prince to kill me. In order to blend in, demons don’t cause massive personality changes, or they get exorcized.”

 

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