TWO
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Zed stopped the blue truck at the kerb under a tall streetlamp. She snapped off the lights and the road was reduced to dimly defined shadows. John pushed on the passenger door and climbed out, fishing a packet of cigarettes out of his inside pocket. She appeared from round the other side, closing the door and wandering round to the pavement just as John lit up his Silk Cut.
"I keep telling you - those things will kill you," she said, watching him pocket the pack and the lighter.
"Don't think they're going to get the chance, love." He sniffed and looked up at the area surrounding them.
"You know, Chas is pretty upset he wasn't allowed to come."
"Yeah? Well we need him to keep an eye on our witch right now," he replied, taking a drag on the cigarette and walking round her, hefting his bag along.
She put her hands in her back pockets and stared at the pavement, turning something over in her head. Then she followed quietly, and the two of them walked along the empty street. "So… all your protections and things, the wards you had… like… attached to you. Y'know, before Mexico."
"Yes, I put them all back. No, I'm not at risk from a demonic entity. Yes, you two can stop molly-coddling me," he said briskly. They passed under another bright streetlamp, turning his face into a relief map of black hollows and dark spaces.
"I'm assuming 'molly-coddling' means 'looking out for'," she smiled.
"Oppressively so."
"Has it occurred to you that it's only logical that we want you to put back everything you took off? If you didn't you'd be an idiot."
"I'm warded up to my eyeballs, ok?" he said with a smile, but Zed didn't care for the way it didn't touch said orbs.
"Ok then," she said brightly. "Good."
They turned the corner of the block. John looked up as they walked. "You didn't have to come."
"Are you kidding? I get to see a gruesome murder scene and everything!" she gushed with fake excitement. "Oh John Constantine, you take a girl to all the best places."
"Alright, give over," he smiled. "Seriously, why are you here?"
"Because Chas is looking after Nayda, you're doing something productive, and I'm getting cabin fever."
"Speaking of," he said, stopping them under a streetlamp. He put down his bag, holding his free hand out to her.
She looked at it. "I'm not touching bare skin, not when you're loco as a box of frogs."
He grinned, taking another drag on the cigarette. "Trust me."
"You want me to know something? You can just tell me," she said warily.
"You remember what happened the last time you grabbed my arm?" he said, his smile fading. "And when you touched Gary?"
"Very well," she nodded, her large eyes cast down at his hand. "So… no."
"Trust me."
"No."
"You don't trust me?"
"Yes. I just don't trust—"
He reached out and his hand closed around hers. She gasped - and then her face turned into confusion. "See?" he smiled.
"There's… nothing," she said, relieved. "Absolutely nothing. Like when I touch material."
"Exactly." He let go of her hand and picked up his large bag. "So stop worrying."
"What did you do?" she asked as he turned and walked off. She hurried to fall into step beside him.
"You know I spent a day down that long corridor we don't talk about?"
"Yes. Chas waited for you to come out. When you didn't and it was getting late he put food at the end. He said you'd smell it and come back, like a cat."
"That's Chas. Always thinking," he smiled.
"What were you doing?"
"Preparing replacement charms, protection spells, wards," he said, as if to himself. "Going through the motions, to begin with. Like I was on autopilot. But I kind of got into the swing of it again - got me back, if you know what I mean." He noticed her nod to herself, as if she had no idea he could see her from the corner of his eye. "Anyway," he went on, "I thought while I was there I could ward myself from a few other things, too. Like you," he said, turning a smile on her.
"Well good," she said.
"Why do you say that?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure bare skin is not what comes to mind when you think of me. Or is it?" he added slyly.
She grinned, pushing at his shoulder playfully. "No it is not. But it means I don't have to fear being around you."
"Oh you should definitely do that, love."
"No, I meant… When I'm out places, when I'm with people, I have to remember not to touch. Sometimes you just bump into people, and it all pours out. I don't like it." She paused. "Hey - could you put one of those things on me? To stop me seeing things when I accidentally touch people?"
"No, Zed, I can't," he said sadly. "It stops stuff getting out, it can't stop you from taking it in. Wrong protection spell."
"Then do you have another one?"
"Yes," he nodded, as he came to a stop on the pavement. "It's called training and patience."
"John," she warned.
"You learn to control it, and it doesn't control you."
"Then when we get back, you'd better start some proper training, Yoda - it's about time you did," she tutted.
"Hey, it's not easy bein' green."
She shook her head and looked up at the building in front of them. "Is this it?"
"This is the address," he said. He took a last puff on his Silk Cut and then flicked the butt across the very neat paving. "Now then. You go to the security desk and tell the nice man you were here earlier today and forgot your bag."
"My bag?" she scoffed. "No-one's going to believe I forgot my entire bag."
"He will when you use those big brown eyes on him," he nodded firmly. "He'll let us in and then we'll go to the crime scene and have a quick squiz at what went down that night."
She put her hands into her hair, pushing it up to bounce slightly as she cleared her throat. Then she pulled her jacket straight and went to the large glass doors of the building.
It opened to reveal a wide open lobby, with TV screens on the walls showing stocks announcement from all over the world. Two luxury leather sofas were spaced out, twenty or so feet from a horseshoe desk, hosting a phone and a man who looked like boredom had tired itself out hours ago.
She strode up to the desk and put her hands on it. "Hi," she said brightly. "Uh… Bradley, is it?"
The young man got up out of his chair quickly, one hand touching at his name badge self-consciously. "Hi, miss. Yes. Can I help you?"
"Yes, you can," she smiled, as John appeared behind her. "I know it's kind of late, Bradley, but… could I just sneak upstairs? You see I was here earlier and I left my phone up there."
"Oh, uhm, well, no-one's supposed to—"
"I didn't even realise it wasn't in my bag till I got home, and I had to turn around and come all the way back. Atlanta is kinda weird at night, right? I mean, it's really shiny and it's got these big lights everywhere… It's hard to navigate without your phone telling you where to turn," she said innocently.
Bradley cleared his throat. "Well—"
"You could come with us. To make sure I don't steal all the money in this building," she added cheekily.
He ran a hand through his blonde hair, reaching for his cap behind the desk. "I suppose. I mean, there's no money here, miss."
"Not the sharpest tool in the box," John said under his breath.
Zed pushed an elbow back and into him. "Ignore him," she said firmly, to Bradley. "He's my… uh…"
"Brother," John supplied.
"—Of my dad," she blurted.
John turned to her, his mouth open in horrified surprise, but Bradley just blinked.
"It's a long, sad tale of foster parents south of the border," she nodded, her face conspiratorial. "So can we go up?"
Bradley felt for his keys on his belt. "Ok. I'll just… Yeah. I can take you up. Which floor?"
"The top one," she said. "I had a meeting with Roberta Moors' replacement."
"Oh, Elena Ashmore," he nodded.
"Yes, right, Miss Ashmore."
He came out from behind the desk and went to the lifts. Zed and John looked at each other as he walked away.
"Brother of your dad?" John demanded hoarsely, trying to keep his voice down. "That is the single rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth."
"What?" she asked.
He pushed her toward the guard by the lifts. "I've got barely ten years on you - probably not even that."
"Yeah, cos you really look like my brother, cerebro de burro."
"Hey, I know what that means," he said, pointing a finger at her.
She just smiled, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and went up to the guard.
The lift arrived. They got in. It went up.
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ooOoo
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Bradley unlocked the tall glass door, stepping back and waving Zed forward. She smiled and pushed it open, holding it for a second for John to follow her. The office was silent but warm, and she looked left to the far end, before surveying all the way down to the right.
John slewed out from behind her, walking off to their right. She turned to Bradley. "Thanks," she said. "Do you have to wait here? I mean, I'll just be a minute. Then I'll come right back down, I promise."
"Well… I could just go back downstairs. I'll make sure an elevator waits for you, though."
"Thank you," she smiled.
He nodded and disappeared. She looked over, spotted John by a desk on the far right side, and hurried up to him. He had plonked his bag on the wooden desk, and was in the process of rubbing his hands, a tasked look on his face.
"Well?" she asked. "What do we do?"
"You keep your eyes open. I see what we're dealing with."
He opened the bag and rooted around inside, eventually bringing out a set of candles of all colours. He set them on the edge of the desk at regular intervals, then pulled out his Zippo lighter. He lit all four candles, standing back and raising a hand. He muttered something that Zed didn't quite hear. He let his hand drop and they waited.
"Well?" she whispered.
"Wait for it."
She looked around to the office door, then back to the candles. "Well?"
"Wait for it," he said, his voice going up in protest. "Bloody hell, you women—"
The left candle wisped out. Then the next. The next one went dark, until the last one burnt brighter, sending black smoke to the ceiling.
"It's a demon," John said to himself.
"Is that good?"
"Never."
The last candle burnt hotter, belching more and more black smoke upwards. Suddenly the flame winked out.
"Bollocks," he hissed.
"What?"
"It was supposed to tell me the name, or at least give me a clue," he grumped. He went to the desk and collected up the first three candles, dropping them back in the bag. He rummaged around and produced a plastic bag. He wrapped up the last candle securely, then it too went back in his holdall.
"That's it?" she asked. "You're taking it home in a Costco bag? Not very magical," she teased.
"Plastic seals in a lot of nasty stuff, love," he said over his shoulder. "Them fancy cloth bags are useless." He shut the leather bag and lifted it off the desk. "We're done here. The rest we can do back at the mill house. Let's get out of here."
She dug her phone out of her pocket as they walked back to the doors. A lift was waiting for them as promised, and she smiled and got in. John pressed the button for the lobby and they whisked down.
"What do you need the candle for?" she asked.
"It'll have absorbed a bit of what it found - candle wax is an impressionable thing," he said. "I should be able to make it give us a name."
The doors opened and they came out to the lobby. Bradley was waiting around by the front doors, his hands tucked in his belt. "Hey," he said with a smile. "Did you get what you wanted?"
Zed raised her phone and wiggled it. "Yep. Thank you so much, Bradley. You've saved my life."
He smiled, tipping his cap to her as he opened the front door. "No trouble, miss."
She strode out with a smile, John nodding to the man and following her out. They walked to the pavement and turned right, heading off down the street.
"Why did we park so far away again?" she asked.
"Because if your new admirer Bradley saw you pulling away in that truck, he wouldn't have believed you'd been here to see the acting replacement head of the company," he smiled.
"Yeah - he said Elena Ashmore. Do you think she's in danger?"
"With a demon involved? Hard to say. They're usually summoned by someone with a grudge - but we don't know who that might be."
"You mean it didn't just appear here by itself?"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "They're always summoned, and it's always to get revenge, and they always get out of control, and they always go on a killing spree. It's just a matter of time before it works out a technicality to get free of its master, and then we have dead bodies to look forward to."
"But you can stop it, right? I mean, you know how these demons work."
He didn't look at her. "A bit."
"I didn't mean—"
"Drive us back to the house, will you?" he said politely, with an amiable smile.
But again, it didn't touch his eyes.
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ooOoo
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John placed his bag on the table, on top of the scrying map. He pulled off his coat and left it over the chair to his right. "Ok then," he said, rubbing his hands together.
Zed walked over and pushed at his shoulder. "Ssshh."
"Did you just shush me?"
"Yeah, I did," she whispered. He frowned. She pointed behind her, to Nayda sleeping comfortably on one of the long couches past the bookshelves. "Keep it down."
He looked back at the table. "We can't do that if we're going to get answers from his candle."
"Then we do it tomorrow," she said. "It's nearly one in the morning. It can wait."
"I'm pretty sure we need to find out who this bastard is—"
"Tomorrow," she stressed. "The candle will still work later, right?"
"Yes."
"Then go to bed, John. Everyone needs to sleep."
She turned and walked off toward the staircase. He didn't move. Halfway up she stopped and looked back. Letting out a monumental huff, she turned and went back to him.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"I'm just thinkin'. Of how we do this. You know, tomorrow," he said.
She frowned. "Go to bed."
"That an order?"
She put her hands on her hips. "Yes. You look like death warmed up, John. You have done for days. Chas won't say anything because he doesn't want to get into it, but he knows you're not ok. So I'm telling you to sleep. If he were here right now he'd agree with me."
"Because it's that easy," he said, with enough sarcasm to fill the entire house. "Well, ok then. Far be it for me to argue with Mam and Dad."
She put her hands to his shoulders, turning him round and walking him to the staircase. "Go."
"Can I get a drink of water first, Mam?"
"Go," she hissed. "Or Nayda sleeping or not, I will pick you up and throw you up those stairs. And if you dare try to get out of bed before the sun comes up—"
"You'll what?" he asked, turning to smile at her as if he knew infinitely more than she did. "Tie me to the bed? Oh wait - you did that."
She opened her mouth but nothing would come out. A schism in time and space, a memory hijacking her senses, suddenly she saw his face, contorted and ruined by the demon Pazuzu, screaming insults at her with evil conviction. She forced it from her head, but then it was all she could do to stare, wide eyed and mortified, at his cynical smile.
He shook his head, looking at his shoes. Without even looking up, he put a hand up to her arm, patting. "You win, love," he muttered. He turned and climbed the steps, his eyes on his feet.
She folded her arms and watched him go. Her head tilted until she heard the faint sound of a wooden door closing. Then she too went up the stairs, determined to find her own room and her own bed.
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ooOoo
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Zed came down the stairs to hear voices. When she looked over, she saw John and Nayda sat at the table, tearing into cooked breakfasts, apparently chatting. Nayda appeared perfectly at ease, her eyes seemingly glued to John's movements. John's hair was just starting to throw off the dampness weighing it down since presumably a shower, allowing it to begin sticking up, toothbrush-like, in odd crop-circle arrangements. That and his relaxed slouch into the drab blue dressing gown made Zed smile. She heard movement behind her and turned.
"Morning," Chas grinned. He had a loaded plate in each hand and a tea towel over his left arm. "Hungry?"
"Uh - yeah. Thanks," she said, a little bemused. She followed him to the table, which had been cleared of everything to be relaid for breakfast. She sat herself down at the end, opposite John. "So… I'm the last one up?"
"Well the first chink of sunlight came through them curtains like a parole hearing through a prison door, and I thought, now's me chance for escape," John smiled at her, round a mouthful of bacon. "After that all I could smell was hot food."
She couldn't help but smile. Chas laid a full plate of food in front of her and she looked up. "Compliments of the house," he said quietly. Now she grinned, and he patted her shoulder before going round the table and sitting opposite Nayda.
He picked up his knife and fork and tucked in, as Zed eyed Nayda and her smile that seemed to be for John alone.
"Sorry, love, you were sayin'? The one with the night market?" John asked, shovelling scrambled egg into his mouth.
"That's the one. You've been there?" Nayda asked.
"A few times," he shrugged. "Bloody freezing, it was. Can't say I liked it much."
Nayda smiled. "You have to go in spring."
"That was spring," John argued. "Colder than a witch's tit." His face dropped and he cleared his throat. "Whoops. Heh," he managed in uncertainty. "Sorry, pet."
But Nayda started to laugh - something that surprised both Chas and Zed. She leant back in her chair, one arm on the corner of the backrest. "You're the first person to make me laugh in a long time."
"If there's one thing that never fails to make a bird laugh it's a naked bloke. You're welcome," John said, picking up a huge mug of tea, but his dark eyes stayed on hers.
"John," Chas sighed, in something close to embarrassment.
"Hey, if that massive lump of sarky metal you call a clothes dryer ever finishes I'll finally have a fresh shirt," he protested. "Among other things."
Chas frowned. "Actually it's—"
"Don't encourage him," Zed said.
Nayda chuckled, then picked up her coffee. She looked across the table at Chas. "Thanks for this," she said. "I haven't had… well, family round a table in… too long."
John looked up, surprised, but Zed picked up her fork and speared a mushroom from her plate. "That's us," she said with amused gusto, "one big happy family."
"Here, Chas," John said, sounding hard done by as he waved a fork in the direction of Zed, "do I look old enough to be her uncle?"
"What?" Chas asked, completely blind-sided. "Who's whose uncle now?"
"Last night she told the security guard I was her uncle. Of all the bloody cheek," he blustered.
Chas laughed. "Yeah, you do."
"Charmin'!" John cried. "That's charmin's, that is. You wait, love," he said to Nayda. "Next she'll be calling Chas her granddad. He won't be laughing then."
Nayda laughed, but Zed waved a hand toward Chas. "Now he might pass for my brother."
"Mutiny," John sighed, shaking his head.
Nayda put a hand on his arm. "They only wind you up because they can," she grinned.
"Only family have a right to," Chas said grandly.
"Pack it in," John warned. He picked up a piece of fried bread and used it to clean what was left of the sauce from his plate. He stuffed it in his mouth and then got up, taking his tea mug with him. "I'm getting some of me togs out of the dryer."
"Already done," Chas said, his eyes and fork still on his breakfast. "It's all hanging up in the warm so all the creases fall out."
"I did wonder how you ironed everything without an actual iron," John mused as he passed him.
"You're welcome!" Chas called.
John turned and slapped a hand down on his shoulder. "Thanks Dad."
Chas opened his mouth to retaliate but stopped short as he realised Nayda was still sitting there, a smile on her face. "Go get some clothes on. It's not decent," he called.
"The day I ever turn decent is the day I'm too old for all this shit," John shot back.
"Hey! There are ladies present!" Chas called, turning in his chair to glare at him.
John, drinking from his mug, raised his free hand and stuck two fingers up. Chas shook his head and went back to his plate. He looked up at Nayda, then Zed. "Children," he said apologetically, as John disappeared somewhere into the house.
"It's refreshing," Nayda giggled. "New York can be so stuffy sometimes."
"Did you only come out here for… this?" Zed asked.
"Yes," Nayda said. "I asked for help from the spirits, and this is what they sent me." She looked at her hastily. "Oh. I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," she said, waving her off. "John will find out who did this, Nayda. He will."
"I have every confidence in him."
Chas looked at Zed. He pushed bacon into his mouth before he picked up his coffee. She said nothing, preferring to attempt the complete demolition of the cooked breakfast still waiting before her.
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Thanks for reading so far! There's more to come...
