++++++ Chapter two is up and ready to go.

Please enjoy.

I do not own ++++++

Two

Have you ever wondered what it's like growing up and being haunted by your dead twin sister? Well I often wonder what life would have been like not being haunted by my dead twin sister.

"Isn't the legal drinking age in the United States eighteen?" Talia questioned, watching me pour myself a glass of whisky. She would be forever thirteen, still wearing the school uniform she died in. "You're totally breaking the law. Somebody! Somebody call the police." She waved her translucent hand through the bottle trying to fling it off the table but to no avail. You'd think that after haunting me for seven years Talia would have a handle on her ghost powers-yeah not so much.

Brushing the ghost of my sister away like one would a fly, I picked up the glass, downing the whisky in one gulp. Tessa Morgan this is your life.

"What I don't understand is why on earth are you working in a bar when you're legally not even supposed to drink yet?" You know those crime shows on TV where the cop or agent is undercover and their buddy is always chatting in their ear, constantly distracting them? That's my sister.

Let's rewind a little and go back to after the fire that killed my family. Forty-eight hours later and I found myself in foster care with a nice old man who own a rare bookshop in the middle of London-the type of place Talia would have loved and where I learnt that books were more than just paper and there was magic in this world. Magic for both good and evil. Magic that I was a natural at using just as I was a natural at breathing. Robert-his name was Robert-adopted me a year after my family had burnt to death and proceeded to teach me about the occult with surprising results.

I'd moved to the United States after Robert had died. Sometimes I talked to his ghost but the stubborn old coot was resistant to being summoned. He only came when I really, really needed him.

"Tessa! Get your damn head out of the fucking clouds and serve some drinks! And stop drinking the good stuff!" That's my boss, Lenny. He has the foulest mouth but he's a good old soul. His mother is constantly worried about language he uses but enjoys sitting behind her son to massage his shoulders. He doesn't know it but she's still with him after all these years.

"Eat me, Lenny!" I replied. I pulled my glass off the counter and put the bottle back on the shelf before sauntering off down to the edge of the counter. "What'll it be gentlemen?"

The two looked at me like I was interrupting a plot to overthrow the British crown. "Or I can come back later?"

"He's cute," Talia smiled, stepping through the counter to observe the blonde in the trench coat.

"Whisky, love," the blonde answered. "Two glasses, leave the bottle."

"Oh and he's British. Finally someone worth a damn in this stupid country," she grinned. Talia wasn't too thrilled with the fact that I'd moved from the UK.

I sighed and shook my head. Sure she was stuck looking like a thirteen year old girl for all eternity but she had previously expressed her desire to get the chance to be with someone despite her situation. Yes a lot of the time Talia wanted to kill me, still blaming me for her death but every time she touched me-my sister went somewhere far, far away and it took her weeks to come back. Most of the time however she was just a huge pain. I could exorcize her but I'd rather use that talent to send something back to hell who actually deserved it. "I'm Tessa by the way, need anything just give me a shout." I put the bottle and glasses on the table.

"Chas," the second guy nodded. "Name's Chas and this is John."

"Welcome to Siren's Call," I grinned, stepping away to serve a couple of cops that always came in after their shifts.

For the rest of the night I bounced between new and old customers. Talia sat at the edge of the bar hovering over John and Chas and systematically giggling over whatever they were talking about. I didn't honestly care because it kept her out of my hair.

At the two in the morning, Lenny and I closed up. He offered to walk me back to the apartment I was renting, like he did every night, but I was happy to walk home on my own. I walked out into the alley, counting my tips for the night-I always managed to do amazing because guys loved my accent.

Everyone's a sucker for a British accent.

The money was knocked out of my hand by a guy who stumbled into me. He wasn't alone in the alley, the British guy John and his American friend Chas were also there. "You bloody bastard!" I scowled, staring at the money on the ground. "You made me drop my tips."

"Piss off, bitch," he hissed at me.

"You first, dickless!" I curled my fists and gave him a left hook to the face.

"You shouldn't have done that, love," John told me, circling around to try and get me out of the way.

The guy came back up to face me, his eyes as black as sin and teeth ready to tear flesh. "You have no idea who you're messing with human. You should run 'cause I'm gonna kill you."

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "If I ran every time I came across one of you black eyed bastards I wouldn't be able to call myself an exorcist, would I?" I raised my hand and grabbed his head. "Olani goho ol oiad gah-l aai."

He grunted at me and started shouting as his body started to glow. There was no one who could exorcise a demon quite like me. There were so many exorcisms in this modern day and age. Classic Latin, Jewish, Hindu, Tao and so many more but I was the first one in the history of human kind to perfect the Enochian exorcism.

I smirked at the look of fear on the demons face as I chanted.

London ol mardriaax oe ol oiad oecrimi ol oiadge-iad

Oi ol niisan lea chdr ol oadriax

Ol oadriax do hcoma

Oiad adrpan niis oi nanaeel faaip oiad faaip ol oiad

Olani pon ol lonsa mahorela gah-l

Olani pon ol amma hami

Oe oiad monasci ol oiad

An unworldly shriek tore through the alley before the demon burst into flames. The fire burnt fast and bright leaving nothing but ash in the middle of the alley once it died down.

I sighed and brushed my hands off. "Well that was super uneventful."

"Excuse me but who the hell are you?" John questioned.

"Tessa Morgan," I answered. "Sorry I don't have a card or anything-unfortunately I was born with that moniker so I can't do anything about that-tell your friend to close his mouth." Looking around I could see the makings of an exorcism but also the failures of one. Thankfully I never had to deal with circles and herbs-just natural talent.

"How the hell did you do it?" John asked me.

"The exorcism?" I asked him. "Live and learn." I bent down to pick up my money.

"No you spoke Enochian," he argued, grabbing my arm. "You spoke the language of the angels."

I laughed. "Yeah-like it's hard." I gave him the two fingered salute before sauntering off down the alley, Talia following me.

"Yeah like it's hard," Talia laughed, floating after me. She appeared in front of my face. "You are such a show off, Tessa. You'll never guess what-that guy was John Constantine-remember Robert spoke about him before he died?"

I brushed her off. "Not interested. I stink like beer and my ass has been groped that many times I feel like I have hand print bruises in my flesh. I need a shower and Doctor Who reruns."

I could practically feel Talia rolling her eyes.

My apartment was only three blocks away from the bar, where I lived was on the top floor. Surprisingly when I got there, I found a package sitting on the mat outside my door. "Looks like someone loves me," I grinned. I unlocked the door and picked it up, tossing my keys in the bowl by the foyer.

Talia floated through the door and came to join me in the little kitchen I had. "No one knows where you live," she pointed out as I unwrapped the brown paper.

There was no name, no address, no nothing on the paper or on the box it was covering. The black wood looked expensive and polished-I'd seen a few boxes like this in Robert's shop but he never kept them for long-occultists and collectors would snatch them up quicker than what Robert could get them. I opened the expensive latched on the box and opened it up to an incredible long knife laying against black silk. I picked up the knife, etched into the silver metal was a variation of Enochian that I wasn't able to translate. There was power in this weapon and it made me feel sick.

"There's a letter," Talia pointed out.

Indeed there was. Underneath the silk was a letter written on thin, delicate paper. I frowned, not knowing who it was from but it smelt so familiar.

Dear Tessa,

Keep this weapon on you at all times.

It will keep you safe when I cannot.

Do not use it otherwise you will be discovered. Years of keeping you silent and protected will be forsaken and I cannot guarantee your safety any longer.

There is magic in the blade and magic in the words written.

I've been keeping you safe ever since you were a child. I never should have left you and your sister when you were little but humanity was getting in the way of my duties.

Burn this and keep the weapon hidden.

Be safe and good luck,

Your father

"Our father is dead," Talia frowned. "How is this possible?"

I put the note back in the box and closed it. "I need a shower."

Invisible parents were not what I wanted right now.

++++++ So I wrote the Enochian exorcism myself with some help from the classic Roman exorcism.

It roughly translates into:

Kingdoms of heaven, sing to God, praises to the lord

That you carry high close to heaven

Of heaven and water

He cast forth his own voice, the voice of God

I destroy you dark spirit

I destroy you dark creature

In the name of God ++++++