CHAPTER TWENTY

Everyone had different reactions when Callie's eyes opened – shock, tears, smiles. Raul was the first to hug her, with Nathan still clasping her hands. He mumbled 'thank you' into her hair in both English and Spanish. A little body wormed their way onto Callie's lap and suddenly she was holding the physical Teresa in her arms. With a vice like grip.

"I'm glad you're awake now, honey," Callie spoke into her darker hair.

"Me too," Teresa said, pulling back with a yawn. "But I'm tired now."

Raul and Marco sandwiched Teresa between them with teary chuckles. "You're never going to sleep ever again!"

Moments later, Teresa also complained of being hungry. So, Marco practically carried her into the kitchen to get her something to eat. Nathan volunteered himself and Shin to clean up a little in Teresa's room, so the family didn't have to worry about it. And Nozomi, with a first-aid kit, dragged Callie out to the living room and parked her on the couch. "I saw you flinch a few times and I knew wounds can echo out into our plane."

Callie winced as the older woman tugged up her shirt to reveal a large purpling bruise covering most of her torso. There were a few scrapes and the one thin cut along her ribs. She didn't even have a concrete memory of getting those. She hissed at the sting of antiseptics Nozomi was using to clean the cuts before she bandaged them. The longer one needed an easy-stitch on it.

"You were… saying a lot of stuff out loud while you were in there," Valentina said. "A lot of confusing stuff too."

"Well, a lot of confusing stuff went on in there," Callie said. Before her friend opened her mouth again, she added, "I'd rather not discuss it."

Valentina seemed like she wanted to push. But Raul spoke before she could and said, "Okay then. How are you feeling?"

"Beat up, but fine, tired too," she answered, eyes drooping just a bit.

"You can stay here tonight," he said. "That's obvious. We have ice packs."

"Thanks," Callie said simply.

"Are we sure you're you?" Nozomi spoke suddenly. "We know that your dad was possessed, and the spirit kept it from revelation for a while."

"Wait, is that possible?" Valentina asked, wide eyed.

Callie gave a weak roll of her eyes and turned to Valentina. "Yes, but I'm me. Swear to die, hope to God, cross my fingers."

"Sure sounds like her," Valentina said.

"Be more specific, please," Nozomi suggested.

Callie sighed through her nose. "Well, you don't know me very well. But I can regale you with how Valentina got messed up on body shots with Shelby Erikson and got us banned from—"

"Okay, it's her!" Valentina cut her off sharply. "Trust me, it's her."

"All right then," Nozomi agreed as she put her things away and Marco and Teresa ventured in with waters for everyone.

"What now?" Teresa asked, sitting at Callie's side.

Callie didn't have an answer. No one really did. This wasn't the typical kind of aftermath.

"If it's all the same to you, we may stick around for a little longer, make sure the coast is clear so to say," Nathan said as he and Shin re-entered the living room.

"That'd be nice," Valentina said.

They all set up the couch. Marco and Raul said they'd sleep in Teresa's room so their guests could have their beds for the night. Valentina and Callie would share the pull-out couch. One by one, they dropped like flies into sleep. Real sleep.

Callie knew she was dreaming. She hoped. It was dark and misty, and she could smell Valentina's perfume still. As if she were still on the pull-out mattress but her mind swam somewhere else. It didn't have the same needle point feeling as travelling into the Further had. Rather… an ethereal cover that her dreams often had. So, she knew – hoped – she was dreaming.

"Ángel de la Guarda, dulce compańía, no me desampares ni de noche ni de día. No me dejes solo que me perdería. Ni vivir, ni morir en pecado mortal. Jesús en la vida, Jesús en la muerte, Jesús para siempre… Amén."

She didn't move her feet. She didn't take a single step. But a force came over her and had her gliding over the absent floor underneath her. Moving without moving. But not seeing anything. Until she saw her old house in LA and heard her father's voice.

"You cannot comprehend how good it feels. To breathe. To eat. All the little things that you brush off, like a fly…. The pain feels good. It's been such a long time since I felt real pain. I miss it."

He didn't sound right. He sounded garbled and malicious. She didn't recognize it at all.

"But not as much as I miss the feeling of inflicting it on others."

"Ángele Dei, qui custos es mei, me tibi commissum pietáte supérna, hodie illúmina, custódi, rege et gubérna."

Callie knew those whispers. Maria Velez. La Llorona. In the mist, she could just make out the trail of her white dress. And again, without moving, followed it until she saw Maria, knelt in prayer, surrounding by the same children Callie had seen in the hallway. She had little Carmela forcibly knelt beside her, hands clasped on her shoulders, threatening to never let go. Maria's eyes were closed reverently as she led the children in prayer.

"Forgive us our trespasses… perdónanos nuestras deudas, as we forgive those who trespass against us… asì como nosotros perdonamos á nuestros deudores."

"Tip-toe through the window…"

Callie felt a cold shudder pierce her as that damned song echoed in the air. And like a roundabout sing-a-long, Cow Cow Blues played under it. Adding to the cacophony of music, she could hear the praying, distant wailing, a baby's cries, other voices speaking things she didn't care to understand.

"By the window, that is where I'll be…"

"All the earth has been corrupted by the effects of the teaching of Azazyel. To him therefore ascribe the whole crime."

"And lead us not into temptation… Y no nos metas en tentación… but deliver us from evil… mas líbranos de mal."

"Come tip-toe through the tulips with me…"

"You belong with the living, my dear. Run home, and do not return to this place."

Callie lurched from her sleeping position with a sharp gasp. Cold sweat started to solidify on her forehead like a second skin. She immediately looked over to Valentina and was relieved to see her friend still sound asleep. Feeling trouble swallowing in her dry throat, she got up. She padded her way to the kitchen and retrieved a glass bottle of water. She gulped down more than half of it before her throat felt soothed.

She was turning to return to bed and at least try to rest. But when she turned, she was confronted with a terrifying figure before her, with skin the color of oil, and horns on its head, with voids for eyes.

Her scream clashed with the sounds of her glass bottle shattering on the kitchen tiled floor.