Touched - Part Six

Thursday, October 26

Amber closed the door and sighed with relief. “That went well.”

Marcus nodded and set down the bags from the grocery and toy stores before he turned to smile at Vicky. “Hey, you’re up right at sunset—oh, lord.”

Amber wandered around the dividing wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and looked into the dining room.

Vicky smiled at her and picked up the bowl on the table, turning it away before Amber could see what was inside. “So...your trip went well?” Vicky asked.

“Yeah. We didn’t encounter any daemons, just one cranky old lady at the checkout stand. What are you eating?”

Marcus began to say, “You don’t wanna—”

“Raw beef with pig’s blood.” Vicky shrugged at Amber’s sickened expression. “I get bored with human blood sometimes, and I like to pretend I’m making up new recipes.”

Amber sat down on the carpet and shook her head. “Any minute now, I’m going to wake up, and I’ll be in a hospital room with Mom and Dad.”

“And Aunty Em,” Vicky remarked glibly before spearing a strip of raw meat on her fork. “I’ve already called in sick tonight, so after I finish breakfast, we’re going to visit the psychic I was talking to last night.”

“I thought we were just going to salt the daemon and be done with it.”

Vicky shook her head. “That still might not work, and I prefer to have a backup plan.” She took a bite and chewed slowly while she picked around the contents of the bowl with her fork. It took Amber another second to realize that Vicky was stirring the meat around to soak up more of the blood. “For one thing, we don’t know that the daemon can’t just open another portal to escape again. I do wonder how he did that trick. It might be a rather useful skill to have.” She glanced over to see Amber smiling. “Are you having a happy thought?”

“Kind of,” Amber said as her smile spread. “It just occurred to me that the police would never believe me if I told them what was going on. Calling Marcus was probably the best choice I could have made, but saying it like that, it just sounds crazy.”

“Everybody’s crazy, kid.”

Amber made a small laugh. “How old are you, really?”

Vicky let go of the fork to wag a finger at Amber while she faked a stern frown. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to ask a lady her age?”

***

The woman who answered the door of the apartment appeared to be in her early thirties. She was pale and lean, with a thick mane of auburn hair that fell in waves around her neck and shoulders.

The first word that came to mind when Amber saw her was hippie. She was dressed in a loose grey sweatshirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and a long, wrinkled, green skirt. Bangles of beads hung from her wrists, and around her throat was a brass chain with a copper cross.

She smiled at Vicky with instant warmth, stepping back from the door to invite her inside. “Amber McKenzie, I present to you Ellen McCullough,” Vicky said and turned to bow her head slightly at Ellen. “Thank you for agreeing to see us again after last night’s unpleasantness.”

Ellen smiled at her impishly. “You weren’t quite so formal last night.”

Vicky laughed and nodded. “Amber’s one of the squeamish types.”

“Ah...well then, let’s have a look at you,” Ellen said as her eyes flicked toward Amber. Her irises shifted to a bright silver color before her expression became troubled. “Well, that’s...somewhat informative.”

“What?” Amber asked.

“I can’t read you. I can pick up your casual thoughts, but I can’t get inside your head.” Ellen’s eye shifted back to a soft green color as she reached out to take Amber’s hand. “Please, come and sit with me. Tell me something. Do any of your family possess any odd or unusual traits?”

Amber let Ellen lead her across the cluttered living room, toward a frayed brown velour couch. The couch was seemingly the only surface which wasn’t covered in some kind of reading material. Ellen was far from an academic, as evidenced by the stacks of comic books and paperback mystery novels scattered everywhere. But clearly, she was an avid reader, and the vast majority of the furniture in the room was bookshelves that were all packed full.

Amber needed only a second to think before she said, “There is my brother, Jobe. He seemed to develop some kind of dementia when he was fourteen. No, it was before that, I suppose, but he was fourteen when he snapped and attacked me.”

She allowed Ellen to sit her down on the couch, and she frowned as she tried to think of what her brother said. “Damn it, why can’t I get inside this one hole in my mind?”

Getting angry by her failures, Amber forced herself to go back over the memory again before she sighed in frustration. “I know Jobe said something just before he started hitting me, but I can’t think of it. My mind just slips around it.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Ellen said. “I may be able to help you if you’ll trust me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Amber...oh, how to put this? I don’t think you need to go looking around town for a mage, because that’s what you are.”

Amber stared at Ellen blankly before shaking her head. “No, you’ve got to have your wires crossed or—”

“Amber, you’re blocking me out of your head, and there are very few kinds of people in this world who I can’t get into. That means you have a form of defense against me, and typically, that means you’re a mage.”

Amber looked down at her lap. “So maybe the reason why my mom could be possessed is because I inherited this trait from my dad.”

“It’s very likely,” Ellen said. “I can answer all of your questions if you’ll trust me.”

“What should I do?”

Ellen smiled. “Stop being afraid of me. I won’t hurt you. I’ll only try to unlock this one part of your memory.”

Amber felt her cheeks grow hot, as though she was blushing heavily. Her vision doubled, and then blurred to the point that she was temporarily blinded.

When it cleared, she found that she was standing inside Jobe’s darkened plywood fort. Dim sunlight filtered in through the thin sheet that Jobe had used as a door, but it was not enough to see anything in the makeshift shelter clearly.

Amber turned and found her brother huddled in the corner, and she took a step toward him. “Jobe—”

“Stay back,” he said, bowing his head to hide his face from her. “Just go home and leave me here, okay? I’m...I’m not safe to be around anymore.”

“I don’t understand.” She tried to move closer again.

“Stay back!” He got to his feet, hunching over as he balled up his fists. His face shifted with conflicting emotions, and he waved for her to move back. “Sis, I’m starting to hear things. Sometimes I see things too. They aren’t my thoughts, but I don’t know where they come from. I—I think I’m going crazy, and there’s these voices. They keep telling me to...to do things to you.”

“Jobe, you wouldn’t hurt me. You know that.”

“I want to believe that, but the closer you get to me, the more I...Amber, I’m sorry. I know this is going to hurt, but I can’t stand to be around you now. I loathe you and all of my family so badly that I  want to kill you.”

“How—how long have you felt this way?” Amber whispered.

“I’ve heard these voices for a while, but lately, they’ve gotten a lot louder. They keep insisting that you’re all bad people, and I need to kill you before it’s too late.”

“What do you—”

“Please, just go home and let the family be mad at me for calling them names. If you just go away, it doesn’t have to be any worse than that.”

She knew what was coming next even as she began to step closer to her brother. She had relived the memory so many times over the years, and she felt the same familiar feelings of guilt as she reached out to take his arm. “Please—”

“This is your last warning, bitch.” Jobe’s voice was lower and filled with a menacing tone. “Get the fuck out now, or I’ll show you what a berserker is.”

She was about to tug on his arm when her vision blurred again. She blinked and made a soft gasp when she saw Ellen sitting in front of her. The fort blurred away, and she glanced around the living room with an expression of awe. “What did you do?”

“I had to walk you back through the memory up to the point of the blank.” Ellen’s mouth creased into a deep frown. “I’m afraid I was wrong about you. You aren’t a mage, but rather a mutant.”

Blinking, Amber asked, “What, you mean like my parents got a dose of radiation somewhere?”

“No, it’s a little more complex than that. I don’t normally like confessing my family’s secrets, but we aren’t just psychics. We’re halflings.”

Amber nodded slowly. “And that would make me what?”

“Sometimes we have weaker members of our family who move out among the humans. Most of the time, it creates a diluted line, and the line reaches the point where no one has any telepathic abilities left. But within those seemingly normal humans is a recursive gene trait. That’s what you’ve inherited from your father.”

Ellen paused, her face tensing in a troubled, thoughtful expression. “Jobe appears to have confused an emerging telepathic ability with schizophrenia, but what troubles me more is the term he used to describe himself. It is the part of your memory which you blocked out, perhaps because his change in demeanor was so shocking to you.”

“But what is a berserker?” Amber turned her head at the sound of Vicky whistling. “What?”

“Oh, those are bad people to piss off,” Vicky said. “I’ve only met one, and he convinced me that it was far more prudent to give all berserkers a wide berth.”

Amber looked back and forth between Vicky and Ellen before she made an annoyed huff. “But what does that make me? I don’t have any powers, and I don’t hear voices. So how am I supposed to defeat a daemon? I’m the lamest mutant since Kitty Pryde.”

“Hey, screw you,” Vicky said. “She was a great mutant.”

Amber snorted. “Oh, thank the goddess. You finally said something that sounded halfway normal.” Amber held up her hand when Vicky started to open her mouth. “No, you can just wait. I’m not getting distracted again.”

Ellen shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t have much I can tell you. Perhaps you may have an affinity for magic, but I don’t know any spells. I told Vicky last night that I could locate a coven, but after I called to tell them we needed advice on a daemon, they hung up on me.”

Vicky snickered. “Smart magi.”

Amber ignored her, feeling more and more agitated. “Well, couldn’t we do some kind of palm reading, or maybe consult the spirits?”

Ellen bit her lip. “I don’t know...let me see your palm.” She glanced down and gasped. “Yes, that’s very interesting.”

“What?”

Tracing a line on Amber’s palm Ellen said, “You’ve got a huge gullibility line right here.”

Amber yanked her hand back. “Be serious.”

“Amber, I’m a telepath, not a psychic hotline advisor. I don’t speak to spirits, I don’t give out lottery numbers, and I don’t have tarot cards. If you’re willing to play with it, I do have a Ouija board. I’m just not putting much stock in the answers we get.”

Amber nodded. “What the hell. Go ahead and get it.”

Marcus smirked at her. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Amber said and sighed. “What else was I going to do tonight?”

***

Everyone settled around the table in Ellen’s dimly lit dining room. Ellen was the first to settle her fingers over the planchette, and she made a soft giggle. “Who should we call out for? Elvis, or the devil?”

Amber shook her head and laid her fingers beside Ellen’s. “No, I’m going to try calling Helen.”

“Aim high or don’t play at all?” Marcus commented as he leaned over the table.

“That is the plan, yeah,” Amber agreed and closed her eyes. Okay, think. It has to come out sounding like a prayer to get her attention.

She took a long breath and bowed her head. “Helen, most merciful mother, I ask you to join us and help guide us—”

The planchette thumped and slid out from under everyone’s fingers. Almost as one, they all raised their hands away from the table as each person tried to prove they weren’t moving the planchette around the board. Yet it continued to move silently on its own.

Amber leaned over to see that the planchette was floating a few centimeters above the board. “O—kay.”

“You’re on an open line to a deity,” Vicky said. “We should probably save the snark for later.”

Amber sat up and nodded. “Helen, we need to know if there is a way to prevent this daemon from attacking us.”

The planchette floated over the YES and began pointing out letters.

“Someone should write this down,” Marcus said.

“I’ve got it,” Ellen said, her eyes flicking back and forth to follow the planchette. “She says we need a name.”

“Can you tell me the name of the daemon?”

Again the planchette moved over YES.

Amber looked up at Ellen, who shook her head. “I’ll write it down later, but I’m not saying it out loud.”

“But all she wrote was—”

Vicky leaned over the table to clamp her hand over Amber’s mouth. “Kid, you just called a goddess into the room. Do you want to think a little bit harder before you do something that stupid?”

Amber pouted at Vicky as the vampire sat back down in her seat. “What should I ask now?”

“Besides salt, are there any useful weapons against daemons?” Vicky asked.

Nothing happened, and so Amber repeated the question. The planchette hovered around for several long seconds before Ellen sighed.

“Hundreds,” Ellen said. “We need to be more specific.”

“Is there a way to bind a daemon to our world and force it to remain in one spot?” Amber asked.

YES

“We can bind it with a circle of...blessed salt, or we can hold it in place using a medallion,” Ellen said.

“What kind of medallion?” Several minutes passed before Amber looked at Ellen. “Well?”

“She isn’t finished yet.” Ellen gave a small nod. “Any precious metal disc will work, but it must be inscribed with the symbol representing a deity’s name. From what she wrote, I gather that you could invoke a blessing into the medallion. Once you’ve confronted the daemon, you can use its true name and bind it to manifest in our world.”

“Where would we find a...” Amber paused and gave a short nod. “Never mind. Thank you, Helen.” She glanced down at the board. “Good-bye?”

The planchette floated over GOOD-BYE before it clattered onto the board.

“So, you have a plan now?” Marcus asked.

“Yes. I have two plans, in case the first one doesn’t work,” Amber said. “First we need to find a set of silver coins. I’ll make a medallion for each of us.”

“I don’t think you should bother making one for me,” Vicky said.

“Or me,” Ellen added.

“Okay, so I still need two silver coins.”

“Or we can just melt down some silver jewelry,” Marcus suggested.

“Not in our apartment, please,” Vicky said.

“There’s no need,” Ellen said and got up from her seat. “I have some earrings with silver plates. A medallion doesn’t have to be a full sized coin, after all. You’ll still have to find a symbol.”

Amber said, “No I don’t, because I already saw one when I was reading files on the internet. The symbol for Helen is three interlinked crescents. They’re supposed to represent phases of the moon or phases of fertility, depending on which reference you look at.”

Marcus’s expression became hopeful. “Then what’s the second part of the plan?”

“We have to load up the water pistols and take a canister of salt to make a circle,” Amber said. “If we can make the medallions quickly enough, we may be able to go searching tonight.”

Vicky sighed as she stepped away from the table. “I’m going to need to step out while you’re working on the medallions.”

“Are you needing a snack?” Amber asked.

“No, I have issues with silver.” Vicky sighed at Amber’s incredulous look. “Hey, think of it as an allergy if you prefer, but I can’t stand the stuff.”

Amber shook her head. “No, I have to test this, or I’m never going to believe you. Ellen? Can you go get those earrings, please.”

Vicky pouted and crossed her arms. “You know, I’ve saved your life. I’d expect a little basic courtesy in return.”

“I’m sorry, but even with what I’ve seen, I don’t know if I can believe that you have an issue with silver.”

Vicky pointed to her thick, closed hoop earrings. “Well, you might have noticed that I’m not wearing anything besides surgical steel. There is a reason for it.”

Amber turned to look at Ellen, and she took the set of dangle earrings. “All you have to do is hold out your hand.”

Vicky raised her hand with her palm facing out, and Amber touched the slender edge of the metal medallion to Vicky’s palm. Her breath caught in her chest when the vamp’s white skin began turning a bright shade of purple.

She drew back the earring and gaped at Vicky with a stunned expression. she stammered, “But—how...I—”

“Are you happy now? Maybe you’d like to shoot me with a silver bullet next?” Vicky stepped closer to Amber as her face hardened into a look of anger. “I can still think of you as a friend because I want to stay on good terms with Marcus. But if you keep pushing me, you’re going to get on my bad side.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Amber said and looked down. “This is all just so weird for me. You’re undead?”

“No, I’m very much alive.” Vicky took Amber’s hand and raised it to rest Amber’s palm over her heart. “I’m not turned or something stupid like that. All of that bullshit is a myth the humans made up. I was just born this way.”

Amber gave a tiny nod. “Okay, I’ll believe you. You’re a vampire, and I’m a mutant witch.” She looked over at Marcus and smirked. “He’s either a changeling or a mage. I’m not sure which anymore.” Her eyes moved to Ellen. “And you’re—”

“Not a part of your team,” Ellen cut her off. “I’m sorry Amber, but a daemon is bad news. As soon as you three are gone, I’m packing my things and moving camp someplace safer.”

Amber looked back toward Vicky. “So, I guess you’ll be wanting to step out then.”

Vicky nodded. “Thanks, kid. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Amber watched her leave, and then she looked down at the earrings. Marcus reached out to touch her arm, and she smiled at him. “I’m okay. I was just thinking what normal life used to be like. It’s weird, but my old life is starting to feel like a dream that I haven’t quite shaken off yet.”