“No!” The creatures came then, finally, bursting up Emily’s throat. She coughed them up with blood and bile, the spew flowing over her like dirt down a trough. I knew this wasn’t an illusion, however, like Mrs. Klein’s sister. I knew this was real, and the remains of Emily’s esophagus would not be right for months after losing spirits this way. If ever. The mouth was aterriblechoice.
Then again, Emily fell back, away from the creatures she emitted, and it was as if her face had been set free from shackles. Her body was loose, light. The body of a late-thirties actress andmodel, beautiful and carefree, her blonde hair spilling around her. She was out cold, and God only knew when she would wake up again, but she was free.
She was free.
They were still vowing violence and retribution when they rushed up the chimney, even though I was the only one who heard their sickening threats.
But when they reached the top of the chimney and encountered the holy water-soaked shroud I’d had Max hang over it, I wasn’t the only one who heard them scream.
Laughter rolled just on the edge of my consciousness, rich, full…and achingly familiar.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Iwas at the paddock when Max found me, wrapped in a blanket as if it were the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. My shoulder still ached where the duck carving had punched through.
My hands were worse—blistered black where the crucifix had burned deepest. I’d wrapped them before coming out here, but the bandages were already spotted with seepage.
It was morning, early. The sun rose over the far woods like a benediction, mists chasing away after the late-night thunderstorm. Officer Hernandez had told us not to call ambulances—off duty, out of jurisdiction, defending an exorcism. Not what she’d told her people.
We’d bundled the Grahams into cars and sent them to the hospital with the Bells. Then watched them all go.
The living room was trashed. Soot streaked across the hearth, demon ichor staining the carpet. It would need cleaning.
But it was finished. The horses nickered softly around me, nosing for treats. I’d already gone through my hoodie full of apples.
“Claire’s still asleep,” Max said, not because I’d asked but because he had to say something. “Steve’s with her. He looks like he may never sleep again.”
I grimaced. I could sympathize. “Any news from the hospital?”
He shrugged. “Mom and Dad under observation. Sam remembers nothing. Emily’s still out.” He paused. “Grandma woke up screaming right when everything went down. She hasn’t stopped talking since.”
“What’d she say?”
“She wants to go visit Carol Ann. Says she’s ready now.”
I doubted that. “Probably should hold off on that for a minute.”
We walked in silence toward the house. Max slipped his hand into mine, squeezed, let go. Like he hadn’t seen me at my worst last night. My worst and my best.
When we rounded the corner, Officer Hernandez’s car was back in the drive. And Rabbi Ethan stood on the porch.
Max kept walking—but I stopped short.
“Hello, Delia,” Rabbi Ethan said, coming out to meet me. “Let’s walk for a while.”
Max turned to watch us go, but didn’t follow.
We walked in silence to the paddock. Ethan unhooked the gate with practiced ease, gesturing me into the grassy field. The horses kept their distance. I was still staring at the horizon, feeling like there was something there that I’d lost, when he finally spoke.
“Tell me about the first day you met my uncle.”
The memory rose unbidden: Mrs. Rachtman’s dogs, a child crying inside a stranger’s house, my mother’s rules forgotten. “I heard ayalda. A little girl, crying. I went inside and saw Mordechai standing over her. Her parents were there, terrifiedand hopeful at the same time. She hadn’t been sick long, but they knew this was no ordinary illness. They’d known.”
“And what did you see in the child?”
The name rose like bile. “Kasadya.”
