Chapter the Eleventh
In which a Room is finally entered
Delia did to her father what she had done to Benjamin; only this time, she had more of a clue as to what she was doing and she immediately imagined snakes coiling themselves around Damien, crushing him. She hit him with nearly everything she had, figuring that she wouldn't be able to do any serious damage to her father.
It worked. Unprepared for Delia's assault, he staggered back and gasped as he could feel his chest tighten and had to struggle to breathe. He quickly recovered himself and wanted to strike back at her, but she had hid herself, filling Damien's head with a light so intense that he thought he could see the inside of his own skull. And then he realized what she had done.
Delia had sought refuge with the enemy, imagining herself at the epicenter of their god and his son. The light was good, kind, pure, and chaste; it was every stereotype that Western society placed within the purview of the so-called god and the nazarene.
Damien smiled; it had been a good first effort, but she was not really tapping into any power that their god possessed, and she did not understand how good and evil functioned at this level, outside and above the realm of human morality where those concepts were basically indistinguishable from one another.
Delia would expect darkness, but she would learn that her father had a few tricks up his own sleeve.
Damien also imagined light, but his was nothing less than his own love for his father and his deep-seated desire to extinguish their god and his son from the hearts and minds of the human race. Damien's light, pale blue at first, devoured Delia's and kept going until the only thing that was left was a dark blue ribbon of light dancing with elation at the thought of the destruction of its enemy until it too disappeared; however, Damien was not done. He imagined his daughter into nothingness. He would never would never subject her to any kind of real sense of abandonment, or to tap into that sense of isolation that his father felt, but he surrounded her with a sense of emptiness and given the events of last night and today, that was enough and she gasped and let go of Damien's mind and he let her back off.
Delia had had her eyes closed and now she opened them and regarded her father, a huge smile on her face. She went to him.
"Good job, Junior, no human will ever put up that kind of resistance to you. I can help you get better and teach you how to do what you did without the task taking up so much energy. However, we will still work on controlling your temper for two reasons. One, strong emotions interfere with your ability to think clearly and stay in control and that's something to which I can personally attest, because my hatred for the so-called god and his son nearly cost me my life. Also, this power is not to be used because some person cut you off on your way to work. In private where no one else knows what you've done, I don't care, but in public, like with Benjamin, only in the most dire of situations are you to resort to using this.
"Like if someone was trying to kill me, or Alexander, or you."
"Correct, we can also read each other's minds, Deedle, but we generally don't, to give each other privacy, and we can feel what each other is feeling. However, when it comes to people, we can feel what they feel, and we can also influence them and get them to do things that we want them to do, but we can't read their minds. It's like we can put stuff in but we can't take stuff out," Damien took a deep breath, reached into his pants pocket, pulled out keys and held them out to Delia, whose eyes became the size of dinner plates and she spun and took off out of the study up to the third floor.
By the time Damien reached the chapel, Delia was standing outside the door bouncing on the balls of her feet. He unlocked the door and went inside, leaving her in the hall.
She looked in the room. Apart from her father, it was empty. The room was black from floor to ceiling and the paint, which was flat, didn't pick up any of the light coming from the two skylights in the ceiling. Delia looked down at the floor, which was wood, possibly ebony, and it was dull from years of being walked on. As she stood there peering into the room, she became aware of a presence. At first, she thought it was her father and then realized that while it felt similar to Damien, it was decidedly distinct. Without taking her eyes from the interior of the room, Delia reached down and removed her socks, closed her eyes and stepped inside.
The second she was inside, she could feel...something swirling around her. It reminded her of the presence in the dream, but this made Delia feel good. When it touched her, it spoke to her, wordlessly, and it asked her if it could be a part of her and she answered a loud.
"Yes," and the presence entered her and for the first time in her life, things made sense and she knew she belonged. She was bigger, more, larger. But there was also sadness...loneliness. She had understood earlier what her father had told her, but now she could feel it for herself.
"It's God; it's Satan," Delia could feel arms around her and when she opened her eyes, her father was holding her. "This is what I felt when I would stand outside the door wanting to get in...like something was calling to me. I couldn't tell you because you'd think I was crazy," she was crying.
"Delia Thorn, I am about to utter words I very rarely say: I'm sorry. I hated not being able to tell you, I hated not letting you in here, but I couldn't. I couldn't risk you telling anyone and it wasn't up to me when you found out who you were. Those dreams weren't dreams but visions sent to you by Satan trying to let you know that it was time for you to learn the truth about yourself. You kept ignoring them, so last night He made it so you couldn't do that any longer. You woke me up and in having me tend to you, I understood what the visions meant."
She pulled away from Damien and looked up at him, "God spoke to me?" Her voice trembled.
Damien smiled at his daughter and wiped away her tears, "He's talking to you right now, as He is speaking to me. We aren't done saying things that need to be said, but I want you to take as much time as it takes to appreciate being in here."
Delia stepped away from him and she moved around the room. She touched the walls and spun as she had done earlier and no matter where she went, the presence was there. Delia leaned against the wall, slid down, sat and drew her knees up to her chest, "We can keep talking if you want."
Damien came over and sat beside her, "It's overwhelming and like I said earlier, sometimes things happen that are too big for words." There was a brief silence and then Damien reached out and lifted up her chin, "Now we get back to reality and the not-so-fun parts and the first one is that you cannot tell Alexander what is up here. I know we shook on it earlier, but now you understand how difficult it will be for you to keep this to yourself. I told you that I'd make time for us to talk and I meant it. You never have lie to your brother. All you have to do is send him to me." Damien thought about it for a minute, "We'll set apart time each night before bed, but one night will be with you, the other night will be for your brother. It'll make talking to him easier when the time comes."
"He'll like that," she gave her father an excited nod.
"Now the hardest part about all of this," he looked down at his daughter, into her dark brown eyes and tried to dispel the worry that now started to choke him; he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Even the thought that she might one day have to...Damien took a deep breath. "Delia, part of your job is protecting Alexander."
She could feel his worry and she understood that the conversation had taken a turn to the very serious, "Like if someone tries to hurt him," she looked her father in the eyes, "or kill him?"
"Yes, that's why what happened at the party happened. Someone tried to hurt Alexander and it triggered that response in you. But I want you to know that the likelihood of anyone trying to kill Alexander is negligible. I have the daggers and only Thomas knows where they are. The West is becoming less religious and that's good for us. It means we can slip in under the radar and do what we have to do without people caring, so the only job I want you to worry about is running Thorn Industries one day, okay?
Delia nodded, "But I'd die for Alexander, if I had to," she held his gaze, wanting him to understand that she had accepted her duty and had understood her father's unspoken fears.
Damien could feel her sincerity and it made him ache inside and he pulled her to him, "I know you would, Deedle, as I would have given my life if my Father had decided that I was to step aside and let Alexander be Antichrist," he kissed the top of her head, "everything is changing and maybe that's why Satan gave you to me. You and your brother are growing up in a different world than the one in which I grew up and different times call for different means of getting things done. I don't want you to think that your point is to die when its not, okay?"
"Okay," but her her eyes opened wide, "wait, Thomas is a disciple of yours?"
"Yep, as are Anna and Paul."
"Cecile?"
"Nope, she just thinks we're regular people."
"Can you tell me what it was like for you when you found out?"
"That, Junior, is a story for another day not the least of which is because today is about you, but I promise I'll tell you."
"But you were older?"
"I was nearly thirteen when I found out who I was."
"But you weren't like me and kind of knew?"
"No, and I've been thinking about that. One, you are Alexander's protector and if anything were to happen to me, which is highly, highly unlikely, then it would fall to you to tell your brother who and what he is and keep him safe so you weren't afforded the...ignorance that both me and Alexander had and have.
"The other reason is that there are three of us and since we're all connected, it can't help but rub off. Even Alexander knows that his ability to get people to do what he wants them to do is not quite normal. And then there's you two and your so-called twin communication...and Milo. He's smart, but it makes him uncomfortable, so he ignores what he sees, or pushes it out of his mind. Now we've been talking a lot about mothers today, but..."
Delia shook her head, "You don't have to explain. I don't want to know who my mother is until Alexander is ready to know. I can wait."
"This is tough, I know, but we'll get through it together. Are there any more questions?"
"Yes, but I already have a lot to think about."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she smiled reassuringly at her father.
"Okay, then that's enough for now. I will give you a key tomorrow and a copy of their bible and we can go to church starting this Sunday."
She nodded in agreement and Damien took her hand and tried to lead her out of the room, but she stopped at the door, not wanting to go.
"Delia, really, you can come up here whenever you want."
But she looked around the room and closed her eyes, fearing that somehow her father was wrong and it would be the last time she was in here, but she left with Damien, who closed and locked the door behind them.
They made their way down to the second floor and stopped at the top of the stairs leading to the foyer. Milo had been laying down waiting for her and now sat up once his young mistress plopped down on the bottom step of the stairs that lead up to the chapel. Without using words, Delia told him to come to her and he did, plunking his massive head down on her knees and letting out a sigh.
"I missed you too, Milo," she kissed the top of his head and then looked up at her father.
"I would like to go to my room, now, is that okay?"
"Delia, nothing has changed. You can do whatever you want and go where ever you want in your house...and now that includes the chapel."
"Is that what you call it?"
"Yes," the expression on her father's softened.
She closed her eyes, "That's beautiful...the chapel," she mouthed the words again.
"However, I sent Cecile home so that means we go out to eat."
"Vittorio's!" She leaped up and threw up her arms. Milo barked, attempting to add to his mistress' excitement.
"I say Chan's, so Xander is the deciding vote."
"Okay," and Delia and her dog went into her room and she shut the door behind them.
Damien went downstairs to the study, poured himself a whiskey, neat and sat behind his desk. A huge wave a relief passed over him. Today went much better than he had hoped, but he knew there would still be some things to work out. First, he'd have to find time to spend with both his children separately, and more importantly, he'd have to contend with Delia hiding things from her brother, something that he was foreseeing as problematic to say the least.
He took another sip of his whiskey, put his brief case on his desk, opened it and took out some folders and read until Alexander came home.
...oOo...
It was four thirty when the front door opened, "Hello?"
"Study."
Moments later, the study door was pushed opened by Alexander, who had his knapsack slung over one shoulder. He came over to his father and they hugged, "How's Delia?"
"She's very well and you can go up and see her and give her her homework after we have a bit of a confab."
"Okay," Alexander could sense that something was up and once more allowed his better judgement to rule and held off on any smart remarks.
"Delia is much better. We had a talk today and a few things came from it, the biggest one being that your sister is now allowed to go up the third floor."
"I see."
Damien didn't have to be empathetic to know that Alexander felt hurt, "And before I get sympathetic to your cause, I want you to understand that you will not bother her about it. Delia's going through some big changes right now you can ask her about whatever you want, but the second she tells you to come and talk to me it gets dropped and you don't bug her about it. If she comes to me and says you're not letting it go, then there'll be trouble."
"Is this about Delia having...woman problems?"
"I think your sister is still a little too young to be having woman problems, thankfully."
"I would never push Delia to do anything she didn't want to do," Alexander sounded as offended as he could manage considering that he was speaking to his father.
"Glad to hear it and that being said, there's going to be some changes for all of us. From now on, before bed, I will be spending time with each of you. There's still some things I want to go over with Delia, so I will spend half and hour or so with her, but tomorrow night, we will have some time together, just us."
"Really!?"
"Just man to man, Delia pointed out that I don't spend enough time with each of you alone, so that is going to change."
"Awesome, D-man!" Alexander grinned broadly.
"Good, I know this is going to be tough for the both of you, but I have faith in your abilities to work together on this. If you want to go up and see her, go ahead. Where would you like to go to dinner?"
"Chan's please," Alexander was already running out of the study on the way up to see his sister, his dog at his heels.
Delia was sitting behind her desk, pencil in hand when Alexander knocked on the door, "Come in."
When Alexander came in, he had his backpack slung over his shoulder and while Delia had enjoyed the day with the father, she had missed her brother. He dropped his knapsack on the floor and came over to her and they put their foreheads together. She reached out to him and could feel what he felt and knew that he had spoken to their father. "Xander, please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad...maybe a little disappointed," he looked down at the desk to see what Delia was working on.
"Did father tell you that he's going to be talking to you every other night?"
He smiled at her, feeling her excitement for him, "Yep, that's us, the weird kids who like spending time with their father."
"They're the weird ones, Xander," her tone was cold, unsympathetic towards those who seemingly preferred the company of strangers to that of family.
He stood there flipping through the article in the encyclopedia in which Delia was apparently interested. He didn't ask his sister why she was putting together a report about jackals, that was Delia being Delia...and she'd tell him about what she was working on, if she were so inclined.
He went to retrieve his knapsack, pulled out the work for his sister and gave it to her, "I picked Chan's for dinner."
Delia frowned, "Aw, I wanted pizza."
"I can change my vote if you want," Xander put his knapsack over his shoulder and now stood at the door between their bedrooms.
Delia smiled, "Thanks, that's sweet, but Chinese food is fine. See you downstairs?"
Alexander belched a yep and went into his room and closed the door behind him.
Delia had been tempted to tell Alexander something about the room, but she had quickly changed her mind. She shook her head; her father was right, this was going to be harder than she thought.
When she was finally finished, she assembled her report, put it one of the duo tangs that her father had given her from work, it had Thorn Industries stamped on it, changed into some good clothes, grabbed the homework that Alexander had brought for her and went downstairs.
Delia stopped by the study and opened the door and found her father, reading.
"So I hear we're having Chan's for dinner."
Delia nodded and came over to his desk and handed her father the duo-tang.
"What's this?"
"It's my report."
Damien was about to ask on what, when he opened the cover and read the title page. Delia had written by, her name and for, and had put her father's name and had written under subject, jackals.
"Will you please read it?"
He was silent for a moment, and smiled, "I'll read it right now."
"I'll be in the kitchen with Xander," Delia turned around and ran out to join her brother.
Both Thorn children had their heads down and were hunkered over their work when Damien came in dressed in a suit and tie ready to leave for dinner. Alexander, like Delia, had come down in dress clothes; he had chosen a suit and tie also and Delia had dressed in slacks and a blouse. They made their way to the car and began the drive into the city.
"So, D-man, what are these conversations going to be about?"
He looked at his son in the rear view mirror. Alexander had been flippant, but Damien could sense worry behind the remark; his son was fearful that Damien would change his mind about having talks. "They can be about whatever you want, but I want to get one thing straight right now. The one is not to harass the other about private conversations I have with each of you...if so, I will be unhappy with whoever is bothering the other."
"But what if we want to tell each other the things we said?" Delia looked at her father.
"Unless its something I tell you not to share, you two can talk about whatever you two want to talk about."
That seemed to please both children, who passed the time discussing what Delia had learned about jackals.
As usual, with most restaurants in Chicago frequented by the Thorns, Damien had not made reservations and being seated, as usual, was not a problem, especially at Chan's.
Richard and Ann had discovered, what was then, the new restaurant not long after Damien had moved in with them and had recommended the place to friends and in doing so, had helped the restaurant build up an impressive clientele. Even on a Tuesday night, when many restaurants struggled to fill tables, Chan's was busy.
Damien and his children were shown to a quiet spot in the back so that they could talk and be heard over the sounds of the restaurant.
They ordered, talked, and laughed while they waited for their food to arrive. The waiter had told the owner that the Thorns were dining there and he came out to speak to he children and Damien, who spoke fluent Mandarin to Mr. Chan.
Once the food arrived, they ate and enjoyed their meal which was, as usual, impeccably prepared and when they were done, said goodnight to the wait staff, all of whom had, at one time or another, served the Thorns.
The ride home was without incident and quiet, mostly due to children with full bellies who now wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed.
Once they got home, Damien sent his children upstairs to brush their teeth and change into their pyjamas, except for Delia, whom he told to stay in her regular clothes if she wanted. Alexander changed into his bedclothes and Damien came in to say goodnight to his son.
"So, we start tonight. I am going to talk to Delia tonight for a half an hour or so. Tomorrow night it will be your turn, okay?"
"Okay," and father and son embraced.
"Can I meet you upstairs?" Delia sat on her brother's bed.
"Of course, goodnight, Xander."
"Later, pater."
"Xander..."
But Alexander stopped her before she could continue, "I'm not mad and I'm not disappointed. Something happened today and if you get to into the room now, then I'm happy for you."
Delia wanted to ask her brother if she looked different, but again, she bit her tongue, "It won't be the same until you get to be in there too," she moved closer to him and they put their foreheads together and Alexander relaxed against her. They stayed like that for a few minutes.
"Okay, I need my beauty sleep now," he pulled away from her and stuffed his pillows under the blanket.
She snorted, "In that case, you are going to be sleeping for a looooong time," she pulled his comforter over him and then thought about something, "I might end up sleeping with you tonight."
He didn't bother removing the covers off of himself, "Okay."
"'Night, annoying one," she shut off his bedroom light.
"See ya later maybe, nagging one."
She closed the door behind herself and went to the chapel.
When Delia found her father, he was standing in the middle of room, his eyes closed, his face uplifted and she didn't dare speak to him, but he held his hand out to her and she came to him and Damien embraced her and the two of them stood there, silently being one with God, but Delia eventually broke the silence.
"Can I have some time in here alone?"
"Sure, I'll go and get changed and I'll be back," he kissed Delia on the forehead and left, closing the door behind him.
Delia sat with her back against a wall and just let her mind reach out to the presence in the room and it calmed her to be at one with her God, her father's Father. It was funny to think of Damien as a baby, or the same age that she was now. She would have to ask him to show her the pictures again, and her head began to droop to her chest and when she opened her eyes, her father was bent down, his hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake.
"Come on," he held out his hand and Delia took it and her pulled her up and the two of them made their way downstairs. Damien waited outside her room while she got into her pyjamas and when she told him to come in, she sitting on her bed. He had left the door open and Milo wandered in and lay beside the door.
Damien sat beside his daughter, "I read your report."
"And was it informative?"
Damien was silent and after a moment, he looked at her, "Very and it's the best report that anyone has ever written for me."
"I put in a part that wasn't facts, was that okay? Mr. Greer always says reports and essays need to just have facts and no embellishments."
"Sometimes embellishments are okay," he smiled at her, "so, which is your favorite and why?"
"I like the golden jackal best because they have families and they groom each other the most out of all the other kinds of jackals and the adults mate for life and when they have pups, they always keep one pup from the previous litter who is a babysitter for their little brothers and sisters. That increases the chances that the pups will survive and that no animals will eat them when their parents are off hunting. They used to hunt golden jackals in India instead of foxes and when one got caught, their pack mates would go back and try to save it. Do you know what kind of jackal your mother was?" It had all come out in an excited tumble.
Damien went quiet again and then shook his head, "Off hand no, but I'd probably go with black-back jackal, but if you're favorite is the golden, then it doesn't matter."
"Are you okay? You're very quiet."
"I'm just tired. It was a long day and we both need our sleep. Is there anything that you want to ask?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Well, then let me say this. Everything went well today, much better than I ever could have hoped. But this is all just starting. You've seen how hard it will be to keep all of this from your brother and if you ever have issues with anything, you come and talk to me day or night. There is no question that is unaskable, do you understand? Even if you start having doubts about things or you aren't so...upbeat about your new found discoveries, you come and talk to me and we'll sort through it, okay?"
"Okay...did you know that Alexander and I are your pups?"
Damien smiled, "Yes, I did know that and a father jackal couldn't ask for better pups than you and your brother."
"I don't have a mother."
Damien frowned, "What do you mean?"
"I don't have a mother; I have you. I came from you and that's all that matters, that's all I need, Damien and Delia, the same."
He could feel his daughter's love unconditional for him and he returned the feeling, "And if you wake up with a nightmare, what are you going to do?"
"Go to your room."
"Good answer, Junior," he gave her a thumbs up.
She looked at her dog and he began to lumber over to the shared door.
"I think I want to sleep with Alexander tonight," she got up and Damien pulled her to him.
"I'm sorry that this thing has to come between you two."
"I know," she smiled at him, hoping to make him feel better. "Do you wish you had a brother or sister?"
He had already answered this question, but now he could be a little more honest, "Before I had you two, not really. I killed my cousin when I was twelve and never thought much about it until I saw the way you and Alexander are with each other. I think it would be nice to share things with someone."
"Goodnight, D-man," she hugged him hard.
"Goodnight, Deedla Forn," he hugged her back as hard as he dared and watched as she gathered up her comforter and pillows and made her way to the door that separated her brother's bedroom from hers, but she stopped.
"Don't think we aren't talking about that cousin thing," she wagged her finger at him.
"I know, there's plenty to tell about all kinds of things," he smiled at her and waited until she was on the other side of the door and then shut off the light and then left.
It was dark in her brother's room and she shook her head as she made her way to his bed. She should have picked up on the fact that she had better night vision that most people had for she could see Alexander's Milo curled up, a dark lump near his master's feet.
"Move it or lose it, Milo."
And he stretched and jumped off the bed, joining his counterpart on the carpet and both of them curled up and went to sleep.
She placed her pillows at the top of the mattress and threw her comforter on the bed. She got under the blanket and then reached over to her right and switched on the lamp.
She knew that turning on the light would not wake up her brother...detonating dynamite within earshot of him would not wake him up. She pulled down his blanket and there he was curled up nearly in the middle of the bed. She moved his hair and found what she wanted: the three sixes nestled under his dark locks. She bent down and kissed the mark, as she had done with her father, pulled the covers over her brother again, shut off his light and pushed him until Alexander moved over to give her more room. She lay back and pulled the comforter up to her chin.
One day, and Delia hoped it would be soon, Alexander would know who he was and then they could share everything and there wouldn't be anymore secrets. She closed her eyes and smiled: it had been a good day. She let herself relax and reached out to Satan, and in the quiet, she found Him. Calm and peace filled her and in the stillness of the dark, she drifted off to sleep.
