Part XI: Old Ghosts
"The rakshasa are an ancient demon of African folklore." Midnite watched as John and Chas nodded emphatically. "Lower-caste demon, the lowest caste, in fact, that can cross over."
"They can cross over?" John hissed, letting out a deep breath, and glancing at his two younger companions. "Perhaps we should do this alone."
"Perhaps." Midnite waited pointedly as Chas huffed out of the room and Jade followed, her expression blank. "Yes, so no-no sending them back to Hell for being on our plane, John," Midnite warned, pausing. "Though, if the rakshasa are here, perhaps there is reason to deport them."
John nodded, and Midnite could see the gleam of danger in his eyes.
"John," he sighed, "You know I am neutral, and therefore cannot tell you any more than that."
John nodded, looking slightly peeved.
"Yeah, but come on Midnite, what am I supposed to do?"
Midnite shrugged one shoulder and lit up another cigar, exhaling a ring of smoke in John's face.
"Check the scrolls, John. Beeman's not here anymore, but everything still works the same way. And keep track of your sister. If I remember correctly, there is a prophecy…" Midnite chewed on the end of his cigar thoughtfully. "But you'll need to figure that out for yourself."
John groaned in frustration.
"Midnite…"
"No, John, you know that as long as the Balance remains intact, I am neutral. And there is nothing to say the Balance has been upset, therefore I cannot. But here…" Midnite handed him a worn, leather-bound journal. "If you can swallow your pride enough to read it, it will be of great help."
John nodded mutely, and tucked the book in his coat pocket, "Thanks for the help, Midnite," he all but sneered, and turned to leave.
"Of course, John," Midnite muttered, "Of course."
Chas leaned awkwardly on a barstool next to the empty bar. Jade stood quietly, her expression still blank as she stared off into the distance. Chas jumped as she turned abruptly on him.
"Chas—"
"Yeah?"
"What was Midnite talking about…when he said something about it running in the family…?"
"Uh," Chas was stuck, "Well…"
"What?"
"John sort of…is an exorcist."
"Yeah…I know that."
Chas threw a helpless glance toward the door of the back room before caving.
"He has the gift too."
Jade's curious expression flickered for a second, as she took in this information—
"Mommy, Mommy, I'm scared though, Mommy, please—" Jade was crying as her mother pushed her back into her room, shutting the door and turning off the light. The next day she heard her parents talking, in hushed tones, of her and a boy called John.—
Jade expelled her breath forcefully. John was the reason. John was the reason her mother didn't only hate her—hate she could have taken. John was the reason her mother feared her. When she'd been a little girl, she couldn't understand why her mother whispered furious prayers in Latin over her bedroom door every night—why her mother would go into screaming, violent fits if Jade mentioned anything supernatural—why her mother would went through stages of fearful indulgence to unnatural hatred in their rapidly deteriorating relationship. Why, the last words her mother had screamed at her before the accident had been "You little piece of shit! How did I ever bring you into this world!"
Granted, it had only been a routine argument between mother and teenage daughter—and her mother was prone to heavy drinking and violent words—so it had been nothing…extremely out of the ordinary at the time. But, secretly, Jade had always wondered how a mother could say such words to her daughter…and now she knew.
John.
She bit back a wave of nausea as she gazed at Chas in distress.
"I…" her voice was an ashy whisper, "I need to get out of here."
Chas cocked his head curiously; concern plastered across his boyish face once more, and moved to reach out to her.
She shook her head fiercely.
"No, Chas…I need to get out."
She turned and fled, stumbling past the chairs and tables, through the roped entryway and up the plush stairs. Vaguely, she could hear Chas calling her name in the distance, but she kept running as fast as she could, until her breath was burning in her lungs. When she stopped, slumping against the faded brick wall of a liquor store, the tears came freely and silently. Her shoulders were wracked with sobs as she slid down the rough wall, curling her knees against her chest and burying her face in that thick curtain of hair.
"Jade? Jade, are you okay?"
She looked up through her tangle of hair to see someone standing over her.
"Jade, what's wrong?"
Jade wiped her tears away, and took a deep breath, standing up easily.
"Jack?"
He gave her a crooked smile.
"Hey. What are you doing alone? In this neighborhood? It's not safe."
Jade looked at her surroundings warily. It was only the early evening, but there were already nightwalkers talking casually on street corners.
"I…I got lost."
"Oh?" Jack gave her a concerned look. "Are you sure you're okay? You looked like you were crying."
"Yeah…I…it's nothing," she muttered, shaking her head. "Sorry. I don't know where I am, though. Perhaps you could help me?"
He chuckled.
"Sure, I'll take you home, if you want."
"No…no, not yet. I just want to take a walk, if that's okay. Then I'll go back."
Slight confusion marred Jack's handsome face, but he nodded.
"Sure, whatever you want. Let's get out of this section of town, though, all right?"
"Yeah." Jade gave him a relieved smile. "Thanks for…rescuing me."
"No problem." Jack grinned back at her.
Angela was still in her car. She'd stopped by John's, but he hadn't been there. So, she was going to the next place she could think of, where someone might be able to help her. Papa Midnite's.
She was currently in a fairly dangerous section of town, so she kept her doors and windows shut. Girls stood on the street corners, and skulking men acknowledged them. Angela was in the midst of feeling an overwhelming amount of pity for the lives these girls led when she focused on a particular corner. A dark-haired girl was standing beside a liquor store, talking to a boy a couple of inches taller than her. Neither looked like the usual crowd that frequented this section of town, the boy messily handsome, and the girl tall and proud.
A flash of recognition shot through Angela, and she rolled down her window and called out tentatively.
"Jade?"
The girl looked up, her eyes blank, and pushed her hair back from her face.
"Who are you."
It wasn't a question, it was a dull, flat statement, and Angela paused.
"I'm…I've seen you before, haven't I?" She didn't want to risk alienating the girl by alluding to their earlier meeting in Hell. "I'm detective Angela Dodson, LAPD."
The girl's eyes widened, recognition in more forms than one, and stared at her flatly.
"You were in my dream."
"Your dream?"
"Yes. My dream."
"Oh, um, right. I must have met you earlier, but I didn't catch your full name?"
The girl gave her a wary look, and she watched her weigh the consequences on her face. Ultimately, it appeared as though pride and indifference won out, because the girl spoke nonchalantly.
"Constantine. Jade Constantine."
"I'm sorry, Constantine?"
Oh yes, that was where she'd heard the name 'Jade' before.
"Yes."
"Get in."
"Fuck, no."
John's sister? Angela thought to herself, Wow, I really couldn't tell.
"Please," Angela amended. "This is a dangerous section of town, and I know your brother."
One eyebrow slid upward.
"And that's supposed to reassure me?"
"Well, what are you going to do otherwise?" Angela asked logically. "Stand here all night?"
Jade gave her a measuring look.
"I was going to," she gestured at the boy standing with her, who was watching the exchange with little curiosity, "take a walk."
"Please?" Angela smiled tentatively. "I'm sure John is wondering where you are."
"I'm sure he is."
"Go with her," the boy interrupted. "I have to meet someone later, anyway."
Angela gave him a grateful look, and he nodded imperceptibly. Jade glanced at him, obviously annoyed.
"Fine. I'll see you later, Jack."
The boy nodded, and whispered something to her, before strolling down the sidewalk toward the heart of the district. Angela briefly wondered why he was going deeper into this section of town as she unlocked the passenger door. Jade opened it and stepped in cautiously. Angela waited until she was settled before starting the car up again. The two sat in tense silence at the stoplight, Jade flipping down the mirror and brushing her hair back to reveal smooth olive skin and eyes that looked as though they'd been crying.
"Are you okay?" Angela asked quietly.
"Yeah," Jade replied, staring out the window. "Just some old ghosts."
"Right." Angela drove silently.