The Devil's Bargain

Thirteen:

Witches

They were still smiling about it as they stepped into the conference room. It was wide and long and graced with a huge table currently set up with a slide machine. The person there was already going through slides.

She was beautiful and very tall. At least five foot nine in the heels she wore. She had brutally perfect high cheekbones and wicked dark eyes with long red hair scooped back from an ethereal face. The sides of her hair was faded a little to show the tattoo against the side of her head. It was a wiccan symbol. She was green eyed and had pink stones and moonstones dangling in her ears. She wore a suit in black with a shocking purple camisole beneath it. Her fingers were clinking with big rings as she talked.

The man beside her was older, pushing the back side of fifty and reminded Jill of Spacely Sprocket from the Jetsons. He was mustached and short and kinda chubby. He wore a vest and a pocketwatch.

The beautiful woman stopped talking to smile at them as they came in. "Merry meet," She said cheerily and her voice was smoky and smooth, "I hear you bring good news."

She moved forward and shook hands. Brad stared at her like he'd burn her face into his brain. Barry looked like he could be her brother or her father or something. Joseph tried his best to look flirty and failed. She held Jill's hand in hers for a moment.

She tilted her head. "You are a light, aren't you? Keep it strong when all others fail."

Weirdo.

Jill nodded, smiling. "Sure thing."

Wesker said, "This is Gia Davos. She is the expert we sent for on Wicca. And our other guest is Ron Jarvis. Ron is a professor at Yale here to help us understand the Satanism displayed by the cult we are tracking. If everyone could take their seats, we can get started."

There was no more time to worry about the other things. It was time to do their job.

Gia stopped by Chris and shook his hand, "I hear you bring me something that may have the answers we seek."

He smiled at her, "Possibly. Hopefully."

"Excellent. You have an open mind, it is written all over you. You are?"

"Chris. Chris Redfield."

"Ah. Ahhhh. Your name is rooted in mystic truth. You come from long ties?"

"Seems that way. My Dad's family dates back to before I can even begin to remember."

"Good. A seeker of truth with an edge in the mystic will make this so much easier. Come up front with me, Mr. Redfield. Let me show you what I know."

"Sure."

Jill sat down and ended up next to Brad and Joseph. It…wasn't…ideal. And Chris? Chris ended up standing at the front of the room with the "wiccan expert." He watched her face as she spoke, he listened. They put their heads together over his research and she pointed, nodded, and pointed to something in that huge book in front of her.

Ron Jarvis was giving a lecture on Satanism. Jill tried to pay attention to it and not be jealous of the red haired witch that was currently sniffing around her man.

NO, her brain said, NOT YOURS. You pulled the plug on that. Remember? BFF's. That's it. You did that. That was your choice, kid.

Ron Jarvis was saying, "There are two types of Satanists in the world: the ones who worship and the ones who don't. Satan was invented... uh, discovered... uh, let's start over. People first started talking about Satan around the third century B.C., starting in Jewish scriptures. The concept of Satan caught fire with Christianity." He gestured to the slide show he was starting. It was a goat with horns and the many pointed symbol, "Given human nature, it's a lead pipe cinch that there have been some kind of Satan worshipers throughout most of the history of the concept, but it's difficult to estimate exactly how many, for the same reason it's difficult to estimate how many Communists were working in the State Department in the 1950s. Although there were some, the label "Satanist" became a catchall for any group of people whose beliefs offended the church of Rome."

Gia said something quietly to Chris. He laughed and glanced at her face. Jill watched him, curious. He leaned over, whispered, and the beautiful red head? Well, she touched his arm.

"Gnosticism was the equivalent of Satanism in the eyes of the early church. So was Witchcraft. So too any form of Occultism. Freemasonry is still called Satanic by many Christians. When Christianity moved into a geographical region, it co-opted as much of the native religion as possible. Whatever remained was deemed Satanic. It's also tricky to draw the line between the historical practice of demonology, in which the forces of hell were invoked as servants, and Satanism, which is the worship of Satan," Ron Jarvis was giving them a hell of a lecture. There was a shit ton of interesting stuff to be learned. And she wasn't interested. Not even a little bit.

She was, however, interested in the hand on his arm. And why it felt the need to stay there.

"Satan began to take on the familiar qualities of horns and tail in the Dark Ages, modeled on several predecessor pagan gods such as Pan or the Green Man, fertility-style gods who represented everything the Catholics were out to eradicate, such as sex and generally having a good time." Ron Jarvis gestured to Barry who was raising his hand. "Yes?"

"What about the robes and shit?"

Joseph added, "And the Rosemary's Baby stuff?"

"That was likely engineered by the Catholic Church or some semblance of religious connotation along that line. Most Satanists take offense to the idea of worship in terms of Satan. They present themselves as secular humanists with a sense of humor, who embrace the concept of Satan as a symbol of anti-Christian protest. It's never, entirely, one sided when it comes to fanatics, of course. And zealots on either side could be known to embellish and indulge in various types of horrific activities."

Wesker was studying the slides on the wall as they emerged. Chris rose from his seat and moved to stand beside him. They spoke, quietly, briefly. And Chris gestured to the part of one slide. Animated, he made a symbol on his hand. Wesker nodded and rubbed his chin like he had a beard.

Chris asked, gesturing to the photo of satanic ritual on the board, "At what point to we segue way into cultism as opposed to Satanism?"

"Cultism," Said Jarvis, "Is the idea of extremism or even falsity often led by a charismatic and authoritarian leader. In the case of what you're tracking here? I'd say assuming Satanism may not be what you're looking at. Cult? Yes. It's religious. But what religion?"

Gia rose now and moved to join the other two at the board. "It's Witchcraft, Mr. Redfield."

"Chris."

She flashed that killer smile at him. "Naturally. Chris. It's Witchcraft. It's not Wicca. But it doesn't even pretend to be."

Wesker met her eyes, "Would you mind enlightening us, Ms. Davos?"

"Gia. And of course. Ron? Do you mind?"

"Not at all. I'm very curious, myself." He took a seat.

Chris leaned on the wall, crossing his arms. And Wesker took the seat he'd vacated.

"What is Wicca?" Gia smiled, jingling her rings, "Contrary to what those who choose to persecute or lie about us wish to believe, Wicca is a very peaceful, harmonious and balanced way of life which promotes oneness with the divine and all which exists."

Jill queried, "So nature?"

"Yes," Gia answered, appreciating the question, "An no. Wicca is a deep appreciation and awe in watching the sunrise or sunset, the forest in the light of a glowing moon, a meadow enchanted by the first light of day. It is the morning dew on the petals of a beautiful flower, the gentle caress of a warm summer breeze upon your skin, or the warmth of the summer sun on your face. Wicca is the fall of colorful autumn leaves, and the softness of winter snow. It is light, and shadow and all that lies in between. It is the song of the birds and other creatures of the wild. It is being in the presence of Mother Earths nature and being humbled in reverence. When we are in the temple of the Lord and Lady, we are not prone to the arrogance of human technology as they touch our souls. To be a Witch is to be a healer, a teacher, a seeker, a giver, and a protector of all things. If this path is yours, may you walk it with honor, light and integrity."

Chris nodded a little, "And the difference with what we're seeing here?"

"Although what you're seeing is Witchcraft. It isn't Satanism. One has nothing to do with the other. They share a similar set of symbols, perverted and destroyed by Satanists. Witchcraft is stones and herbs and energies and natural objects. It draws from light or dark, yes. It's more neutral than anything predefined as white or black magic. It is both. Because nature is both loving and cruel. You will hear people confuse witchcraft, Satanism and paganism. Wiccans are often pagans. This is true. Satanism is not paganism. Pagans follow earth magics. It's a spiritual belief system with no ties to Christianity whatsoever."

Chris moved to the book on the table. "I got that part. So what about this? This is the Book of Shadows. What does that mean? In terms of what they're doing here."

"Let me say that there is no ONE Book of Shadows. Ever. The book of shadows has often been used as a plot device for those looking to invent a story. It has merit. Yes, it does. Because a book of shadows? It is a collection of YOUR spells, potions, records and references. It's individual. It's personal. It's not all encompassing, Chris. It's years and years of love and devotion to your craft."

She stepped up beside him and look at the symbol he was gesturing to. "So this…Asmodeus? The Destroyer? Is this something personal?"

"The Destroyer is not personal, no. Not exactly. The demon is well known. The desire to raise him is personal. And the destruction intended when he rises. Discover the why? It might help you find the whom."

"Can you help me decipher this book?"

She met his eyes. Jill licked her teeth. She wasn't impressed, at all, with her jealousy. She didn't like it. And it wasn't like her.

Gia said, "I can try. I would love to help you."

Wesker nodded. "Good. Excellent. Chris? Stay with Gia and get started on interpreting the book. If we can find the why maybe we can stop the next attacks."

Chris nodded and they sat down together. "Are they trying to raise a demon here, Gia?"

She nodded, slowly, "It's safe to say that is the end game here, yes. But why? There are better demons than Asmodeus. Why him?"

"Maybe you can help me figure that part out."

"I'd love to." And she looked at his mouth.

Jill pursed her lips and rose. "Sir? Do you need us to help?"

Wesker studied her behind those glasses of his. He finally shook his head, "I don't believe so. Why don't you adjourn to the range and work on movement and accuracy for the rest of the afternoon?"

Barry said, "You want me to stay and help here, sir?"

"Sure. Gia? Barry is very good with the cultism portion of things. He might be an asset."

Gia smiled up at him, "Handsome men are always welcome."

Barry grinned like an idiot. Jill rolled her eyes and followed and Joseph and Brad out of the room. They spent the afternoon at the range, blasting the shit out of stuff. They messed around with machine guns and magnums. Jill couldn't get control of the Desert Eagle she kept trying to learn to fire. The kick back was enormous. She didn't know how anyone could use it.

Joseph put a naked girl on one poster and sent it out over the range. Jill shot her right in the vagina.

Brad was snorting so hard he looked sick.

Joseph chuckled, "You just gave that girl her last good fucking, Valentine."

Brad said, "So you think Chris will start tagging that hot witch chic?"

Joseph shrugged and aimed a sniper rifle from the floor. They were outside now at the big range. They were working on distance shots, clearly. Joseph clicked his rifle to adjust for wind resistance. "Hard to say. Red's an odd duck about chics."

Brad nodded a little, "He is. You get the feeling he was tagging just one girl recently?"

Jill said nothing, adjusting the scope on her rifle. Brad fired and missed completely. Joseph drilled his target between the eyes. Jill's shot took out her targets throat.

Damnit.

"Oh yeah. He said some girl he was seeing fucked him up."

And now she listened, closely.

"Oh yeah?" Brad fired again and hit the dirt eighteen inches to the right of the target. WHY was he in Alpha? "I didn't think he was the type to let girls fuck him up."

"Right? He said this girl? She keeps fucking with him. Blows hot, blows cold. Utter fucking nightmare."

Jill gritted her teeth. And drilled her target in the mouth. FUCK. She adjusted again.

"Bitches be trippin man," Brad commented, "Why do you think I stay the fuck away from them?"

Jill snorted out a laugh, "Because you can't even pay a girl to jump on your dick, Brad. Get serious."

Joseph laughed and nodded, "True story, dude."

"Oh yeah? What's your excuse, Valentine? Manny said you were a total ass pain on your date."

"Manny? He's an idiot. He was rude, stupid, and boring. He tried to get a hand job in the car. I gave him a hand job alright. I punched him in the dick when he tried to put his hand up my skirt."

Joseph nodded a little, "You're a good girl, Valentine. Seriously. Don't let dudes grope you. Plenty of nice guys out there want a good girl."

"Thanks, Joe. What a nice thing to say."

"I'm a Don Juan in disguise."

Jill laughed and shot her target in the ear. SHIT. She adjusted again.

"You seein anybody?"

She considered and went with the truth. "Nope."

"You want a fix up? I know a nice guy who's your type at the gym. Long hair? Plays in a band."

"Why does everyone assume that's my type?"

Brad said, "Because that IS your type. Pretty boys."

"Who says so?"

They both said, "Red."

"He's a dumbass too. And wrong. I don't have a type."

Brad said, "I think he's just jealous."

Curious, Jill shot her target again. And hit it clean between the eyes. BOOM! "Why jealous?"

"He WISHES he could get a girl like you. But he's a buttface. So he can't."

He was INDEED a buttface. Jill chuckled and agreed. "Out of curiousity, why not?"

It was Joseph who answered, "Ok. Objectively speaking, Chris is a handsome dude yeah? He's got about as much charm as a wet fart but chics like that sometimes. But you? You're the tits, Valentine. Your body is a fifteen, your face is a twenty, your personality is off the charts. Chris can't score with a chic like you. He knows it. He knows he ain't good enough. You? You need a guy who is as hot as you are. Or you'll never be happy."

Jill wasn't sure if she was flattered or insulted. Did they really think that? That she was too good for the average guy? She thought about that as they packed up for the day and went back to the office.

Did Chris think he wasn't good enough for her?

Really?

Chris was so fucking arrogant, she found it hard to imagine that he thought like that. He's not arrogant, her brain said, confident sure. But he's got the goods to back it up. And he's so fucking laid back he just agreed and stepped aside when you told him to cool things off.

Maybe, her brain said, it's because he's never felt good enough for you. She didn't know what to think about that. The truth was, he was TOO good for her. She'd come to that realization the other day. She was a nobody. Guys didn't marry Jill Valentine. She hadn't ever thought that Chris would end up with her right? Nope. He could do better.

She was a little surprised to find her self esteem that low. She liked herself, most of the time. She had her moments of weakness, sure. But mostly, she was a good person with a lot of potential. But Chris? He saw the good in everyone. He was just that guy. He was handsome and funny and charming and smart. He was the tits. Not her. How could everyone be blind to that?

She waited in the lobby for him until half passed six. He finally came down from the conference room and tossed her the keys to his Bronco. "You ok to get home?"

"Why?"

"I'm gonna keep hanging here I think. We're on a roll up there. I'm gonna go with Gia to get some dinner and we're gonna come back here and keep going at it."

Jill licked her teeth but kept her voice friendly. "Are ya? Are ya gonna "go at it"?"

Oh. This was a nice moment. His face registered surprise. And finally? Amusement.

"She's pretty hot right? I'm thinkin about it. See ya later right? Don't wait up." And he bumped fists with her and went back up the stairs. "Thanks, kid. Be safe out there."

Jill stood there for a long moment. She picked up her bag from the floor and finally went out into the rain. She opened the passenger door to the Bronco and climbed in to slide to the driver's seat. She cranked the crappy old engine over and pulled away from the curb.

She drove home in silence. And she sat there in front of the house while the Bronco idled in the street. She wanted him to be happy. She did. She was afraid he'd never be happy with her.

She didn't want their careers over with because they were so busy fucking each other. Taking a break from this was good. It was good. It was the right thing.

She stared at her face in the old mirror on the visor and hated doing the right thing.

Objectively, her mind said, he's not yours. You never said he was. You laid down the rules. You made him your fuck buddy and closed the door on romance. You acted like a big baby and caused a fight. He's probably THRILLED to be rid of you. Leave him alone to get his freak on with the witch chic and shut up about it.

Taking her own advice, she went into the house and started cooking some dinner. The rain continued, causing flooding down off Flynt River Bridge. Wesker put out a call for sandbaggers and she went down to help.

She got home about midnight. He wasn't there.

He didn't come home all night.

At about three a.m. she figured that was it. That was what happened right? Close the door and leave it closed.

Jill wasn't even angry. It was the right thing. He was moving on with his life. It was good for them both. But she rolled over to hug her pillow and miss him anyway.

She drove the Bronco to work in the morning and went up to her desk. She hadn't worn the beret today. She'd curled her hair and fixed it. She threw on makeup. If she was going back on the market, she was going back guns blazing.

She sat down, turned on her computer, and rolled her head. "Hey Joe!"

"Sup?"

"Give the guy at the gym my number."

"Good call, Valentine. Get back out there. Rock on."

Across from her, Chris was shaking his head. She lifted her brows at him, "Long night?"

"Seems that way."

"Hmm." She tossed him his keys. He caught them, watching her face.

"Keep 'em. You can't ride your bike in this rain."

"I'm gonna get my own car today. I think. So thanks but I'm good."

Chris shrugged and pocketed his keys.

The awkwardness filled the air around them. She hated this. She needed to do something to break the cycle here and let them get some distance.

Jill filled out reports and finally stood up. She went to Wesker's office and knocked.

When he called for her to come in, she went in, closed the door, and sat down across from him.

"Sir? I'd like permission to consider switching to Bravo team."

Wesker set down his reports. He scanned her face. So that was how the wind blew. Who was the problem here? He studied her face. She waited, patiently. She didn't look upset. But she did look serious.

"Working with Chris is a problem?"

"No. Not at all. Chris is always polite. Always professional. I would like the experience of working with other women. For a little while."

"I see. This is understandable. Bravo is actually going to do a prisoner escort this afternoon. You could accompany Rebecca Chambers. Until we have more information on the movement of the cult or the cannibals, you're limited here anyway. I don't see a problem with assigning you temporarily to Bravo."

"Thank you sir."

"Should the move need to be permanent, let me know soon. I will need to replace you on Alpha team."

"Not necessary sir. Just want to help."

"Understood. I will see you on the mat this afternoon?"

"Yes sir. I wouldn't miss it."

"Good. Dismissed."

Jill nodded and left the office. She closed the door quietly and went to her desk. She gathered up her things, putting them in a little pack from the lockers they had.

Brad said, "What's up, Valentine?"

"I'm being temporarily assigned to Bravo team. So you guys will be without this gorgeous face for awhile."

Barry remarked, "What the hell for?" And he sounded irate.

"They need some help. I'm useless with this witchcraft shit. You guys have an expert consultant attached to help. You don't need me. So I'm out for awhile."

She felt Chris watching her. She kept her eyes on her desk. She didn't have the heart to look at him. Not yet. He'd think she was running. She was, she really was, but not because of the witch...because of the bitch in blue that was having trouble letting go.

Joseph said, "That's bullshit. Bravo is where the babies roll."

"Maybe I can teach them a thing or two. Gonna miss me?"

Joseph snorted, "Yeah I am. Who else has an ass like yours?"

Jill chuckled, "You charmer." She looped her little pack around her shoulders. "I'll be back soon enough guys. See ya."

She holstered her pistol and left the office.

There. Easy enough. It was easy enough to take that break she needed. She got to run around with Bravo for a few days and Chris could chill with his new girlfriend and there wouldn't be any tension.

She went out into the rain, put up her red and white Umbrella with the company logo slapped across it, and hurried into town toward the car lot. First things first, she needed wheels. Enough relying on Chris Redfield to take care of her. Stupid.

Stupid girl.

One day? Her heart said. That's how long it took to move on from her.

Apparently, she was the girl the hero forgot.