Jon Merz - Vicarious

He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he sped down route 9 toward Boston. You hear me, demon? You hear me? I’m coming for you. And I won’t stop.

Not now.

Not ever.

Lauren hopped out of the car. “Call me in a few hours at Father Jim’s. I should be there by noon.”

Curran nodded and shot back out into traffic. Lauren watched him go and sighed. Heaven help the person who got in Steve’s way, she decided. Kwon’s death had affected him tremendously, even if the hardened cop only showed it a little bit. Lauren knew he was hurting on the inside in a bad way.

She walked back onto the campus and headed for the administration building and Sister McDewey’s office. Even though it was late morning, the sky hadn’t brightened any. Lauren thought it actually looked even darker than it had earlier.

She frowned.

Maybe Mother Nature knows something I don’t. She tried to laugh the thought off, but a part of her wondered how far off the mark she was. If at all.

As usual, the number of students on the campus grounds always appeared to be few. Most of them spent long hours tucked away in the cozy cushioned recesses of the library, noses burrowed in the pages of religious texts. The less time spent wandering out in the cold November days, the better.

Lauren knew she’d fallen behind in her own studies as well. After all, helping thwart Satan from coming back onto this plane wasn’t the kind of activity that would tailor itself around a schedule full of academic work.

She took the steps to the door of the building and tugged on the heavy door. It opened and a wave of warm air rushed over her, making her skin tingle slightly. She welcomed the change from the cold outside.

Lauren turned left and paused. The memory of Sister Donovan, even if they hadn’t known each other that well, still lingered. If not for her, thought Lauren, Steve and I wouldn’t have the first clue as to where to start with this thing.

Well, her and Graham Westerly.

The outer office was once again deserted. Apparently, Sister McDewey hadn’t found a replacement yet. Or perhaps she was honoring the memory of the deceased nun.

Lauren knocked on her door.

Sister McDewey’s voice rang out. “Come in.”

Lauren opened the door and stepped inside. The air in the office was noticeably colder. Sister McDewey regarded her. “Lauren.”

“Sister.”

“I’m afraid your forty-eight hours are up.”

Lauren nodded. “I’m here to ask for more time.”

“There’s no more time to give.”

“But we’re close.”

Sister McDewey leaned forward. “Close? How so?”

“We know who the Soul Eater is.”

Sister McDewey’s face lit up, almost in amusement. “Who?”

Lauren hesitated. Should she tell her? Would that unleash some uncontrollable Church intervention squad that would blast Darius’ name all over the press and send him into hiding? Not yet. She couldn’t afford to take the chance.

Instead, she said, “We need more time.”

“You don’t trust me? You won’t tell me what the name of the person is?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Sister. But I simply can’t take the risk of someone else letting the word slip. If he got wind that we knew and were coming for him, then he’d be able to run off and hide. We’d be back to zero and have to start the hunt all over again.”

“And you think someone from the Church would spill the beans, is that it?”

“Surely you can see how that might happen.”

Sister McDewey shrugged. “Perhaps. Regardless of whether you tell me who it is, or not, I must still inform the Archdiocese about your revelations.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

Sister McDewey sneered at her. “Well, we can’t always get what we wish for, now, can we?”

“I-“

“I gave you your forty-eight hours — which was more than generous of me to do so, by the way. I can’t wait any longer for you and your partner to try and end this thing. Neither of you have the training to dispel the Soul Eater anyway.”

“Who does?”

Sister McDewey fixed Lauren with a stare. “That’s a bit above your level of need-to-know.”

Lauren stared at Sister McDewey. “I find this a little hard to take. I didn’t think the Church had such an interest in the occult anymore. Especially with regards to Satanism.”

“The Church is always concerned with protecting its own interests. We have always had people available who know how to handle this. It’s not really your concern anymore.”

“So that’s it then?”

“I don’t think there’s much of anything else to say.”

Lauren stood there. Her knees felt stiff. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to beg for more time. There had to be something she could do to stall Sister McDewey. But what?

She shivered. “It’s freezing in here.”

Sister McDewey frowned. “Don’t try to get off-topic here, Lauren. The answer is no. I will not give you anymore time.” She took off her glasses. “Besides, it’s not like you or that silly Curran had a chance against someone like the Soul Eater anyway.”

Lauren bit her lip. How dare she say that about Steve. How dare she-

She stopped.

“You said his name.”

Sister McDewey looked up from the papers on her desk. “What?”

“You said Steve’s name.”

“So what?”

“I never mentioned it before.”

“Didn’t you?”

Lauren’s tongue felt thick. “No.”

“I’m sure you did.” Sister McDewey stood up.

Lauren shivered again. “I don’t think so.”

Sister McDewey smiled. “Oh well, maybe I heard it someplace else.”

Sister McDewey suddenly seemed taller than Lauren remembered. “I didn’t tell anyone else about him. No one knows.”

Sister McDewey came around the desk. “Really? How utterly fascinating.”

The voice. It was changing. Lauren backed up. Slowly. Her feet didn’t seem to want to move.

As she watched, Sister McDewey’s features began to change. Her shoulders broadened. Her eyes seemed to melt into stone. Her jaw squared off.

“Is everything all right, Lauren? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No.” Lauren shook her head. “What did you do with her?”

“Do with who, dear?”

“Sister McDewey. The real Sister McDewey.”

He looked a little silly standing there in the habit. Darius faced Lauren and tore off the cowl. “I’m rather surprised I was able to stand being dressed like for as long as I was. Normally the feel of such material makes me want to vomit.”

Lauren felt the door press into her back. She hadn’t realized she’d gotten this close to it. Her right hand fumbled behind her, trying to turn the knob.

Darius clucked his tongue. “No, I don’t think you’ll be going out there today. I’ve got something else in mind for you, sweetheart.”

Lauren shook her head and tried to scream. Her throat closed down. A tiny squeak broke out before everything seemed to lose focus.

The last image that raced through her mind was of Darius coming toward her.

Hands already outstretched.

Reaching.

Grabbing.

And then…contact.

Curran sighed as he reached Kneeland Street and saw the throng of blue and white police cruisers, navy blue government Fords, a Chevy Suburban war wagon for the State Department Security team, and even more cameras and reporters from the local media outlets.

Who the hell was this guy anyway? Curran slowed his car and paused to flash his badge at the uniform holding the tape up. He drove through and parked. Probably the only time I can find parking in Chinatown, he mused, is when there’s a body to look at.