Chapter Seven

Now that we had a name, our research kicked into high gear and I ordered every book I could find that mentioned Beelphegor.

Halloween was getting closer though and each time I thought of what might happen, I felt as though my stomach dropped out.

I could tell as the day got closer because Lucille, or Beelphegor as she really was, began to flick the lights again when we made love, growing stronger with each passing day.

I honestly wasn't sure why I was still sleeping with Thomas, considering that I didn't completely trust him ut in bed with him though was the only time I felt good, and I needed the distraction.

It was strange, almost as if he was some kind of supernatural being and I was under his thrall. I didn't really believe that, but equally I couldn't explain why he was hiding things from me, and the nagging doubt that he was not on my side remained. I second guessed almost all his actions.

The day before the books began to arrive we went shopping, literally stockpiling food since I had no idea how long it would be before we could shop again. Thomas was fascinated by everything he saw, especially brightly coloured packets, such as crisps, sweets, cereals and cakes. Once I explained what a ready meal was, he was also fascinated by those, especially foreign meals, like Indian, Chinese and Italian, and he made me promise to explain to him how a microwave worked. I could show him, but explaining it was beyond me.

I had to tell him 'no' an awful lot, either because I knew the food wouldn't get eaten within its sell by date, or because we just had far too much already, but he was so enthused about everything that we ended up buying at least four weeks' worth of food, mostly non-perishables that we could take when we left.

At one point I lost track of Thomas between shops and was on the verge of calling the police. The only reason I hesitated was because, well, how do you report a missing person who doesn't legally exist?

The more time went on, the more worried I became. He didn't know this time or our ways and could easily fall victim to street crime or something. I admit, my imagination may have been a tad overactive but right now it was us against the world, well, the underworld, and the thought of losing him made me feel sick.

I knew he was probably safe, off running an errand that he didn't want time to know about, but even although I didn't trust him, my need for him was greater.

I waited by my car for as long as I could, then decided to retrace our steps until found Thomas walking towards me, seemingly relieved to see me.

"I'm so glad I found you," he smiled. "Everything's changed so much since my time, I hardly knew where I was."

"Where did you go?" I asked.

"A window display caught my eye and when I turned back, you were gone."

It sounded plausible but I didn't know if I believed him.

The tension was broken on the drive back though, because he insisted on openings a few things in the car. I had to laugh when he tried milk chocolate; the look on his face was positively orgasmic.

His reaction to the chilli pizza I made for lunch however, was priceless. He cheerfully munched his way through the first two mouthfuls, then he must have got a slice of pepper.

"Oh my! My word. This is what you meant by hot spicy?" His eyes were starting to water.

"You can't say I didn't warn you." I hadn't had any because I hate spicy food, and this had three peppers on the label, which is pretty much as hot as you can get.

"No, no I think perhaps next time, I will heed your caution." He picked up his glass of water and downed it in one go, so I went to get him a glass of milk.

"Here," I placed the glass in front of him. "It's the best thing to counteract chillies."

"Thank you." He downed that in two goes, then looked at the rest of the pizza as though it was poison and he was psyching himself up to eat it anyway.

"Do you want half my sandwich?" I asked.

"Would you mind?" he looked like an eager puppy.

"Not at all." I handed him half with amusement, and held by tongue as Thomas got through another three glasses of water and one of milk that afternoon.

Our moments of levity never lasted long though because as the days wore on, I found myself distrusting him more and more. He was usually the first awake in the morning and although he was always in the kitchen, I couldn't help but wonder how long he'd been up. Had he been out of the apartment?

One of the books I ordered had a single page torn out. Now it could have been done years ago, the book was second hand, printed in 1964, and no book seller had time to check that every page was intact. I couldn't help wondering though, had Thomas interfered with our reading literature?

It really wasn't like me to be paranoid though.

One missing page aside, I had learned a lot about Beelphegor, including the fact that Beelzebub himself had locked Beelphegor up in that alternative dimension. How evil did one have to be to fall out with the devil?

That thought paralysed me with fear for a moment, until Thomas noticed and kissed my fears away.

He cupped my face in his hands and softly kissed me, each kiss lasting a little longer than the last until I began to relax into him. Then he held me in his arms, kissing but also nibbling my lips, gently tugging on them with his teeth. It was a strange thing to do, almost primitive and animalistic, but I found it to be a huge turn on.

By the time he had coaxed my lips open, Lucille was pushed to the periphery of my thoughts. As he laid me down on the bed (I had no memory of even being guided here) our research had become an afterthought. When he went down on me, teasing and torturing my sex, and me, into submission, I could hardly recall Lucille or Beelphegor's name. As he thrust inside me, filling me and making me feel complete in a way no other man ever had, I could hardly remember my own name.

The lights flickered even although we left them turned off, but I hardly noticed, and I certainly didn't have the wherewithal to care.

Afterwards I lay on his chest and the soft thump, thump of his heartbeat continued the almost hypnotic state that I usually fell into after we made love.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tightly, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"What was that for?" he asked.

'Because I love you,' I thought.

"Just because," I actually replied, unable to admit ether to him or myself, that I was head over heels in love with a man I'd met under a week ago.

Maybe Thomas wasn't the only one with secrets.

Halloween was getting closer and closer, now only two days away; we still had no clue how to stop Lucille, and I trusted Thomas about as much as I'd trust a compulsive liar.

Sometimes I felt as though I was living on my very last nerve, drinking far too much coffee and often feeling too queasy to eat very much at all.

But at the same time, while we both read on the sofa my head rested in his lap while his hand stroked my hair. I felt as though I was addicted to him. Despite my worries and fears being calmed by his presence. Which is not to say I didn't feel petrified, but his touch soothed me to the point where I could at least function and try to find a solution.

I admit though, I was starting to lose hope. What if we never found a way to trap Lucille in her dimension? What if she did manage to possess me? What would happen to Thomas? Surely she wouldn't look kindly on him for helping me.

Unless he wasn't helping me. My mind flashed back to the missing page, the midnight wanderings, the strange box he had hidden, of which I had been unable to find any trace.

What did it all mean?

I turned my head to look up at him now, wondering if someone so beautiful could really be evil. And if he was evil, what did that say about me? I couldn't kill him, that much I knew already, the very thought made me feel as if I was freefalling without a parachute. I just had to pray that my instincts were wrong and he wasn't a bad guy.

Noticing my scrutiny, he looked down at me and smiled tenderly.

"You look beautiful," he told me.

"You too," I replied.

His hand moved from my hair to my forehead, fingertips lightly stroking over my skin in a hypnotic rhythm, soothing me.

Someone knocked on the door, and after exchanging a questioning look with Thomas, I got up to answer, feeling slightly miffed that I had to leave his lap.

And seriously, what was wrong with me? I wasn't even this clingy as a teenager, yet I almost always had to touch Thomas. To be fair he encouraged it and seemed to feel the same about me, but I knew, on some level, that this wasn't normal for me.

I pushed those thoughts aside for the moment and opened the apartment door to find a staff member standing there with a letter in her hand.

"This was delivered for your companion," she said, trying to look around me. "I'll take it."

"I had to sign for it, I really should make sure I give it only to him."

She just wanted to ogle him. I couldn't blame her but now was really not a good time to try my patience. I sighed.

"Thomas," I snapped, and a second later he joined me, placing a calming hand on my shoulder.

I would say his gesture was possessive but it was the opposite, as though he was advertising that he was taken. Still, he gave the receptionist a warm smile. He seemed to have the ability to charm everyone, a talent I sadly lacked, especially when I was tense.

"For me?" Thomas asked the girl.

"Oh, uh, yeah," she handed the letter over. "It looked important, so I brought it straight up."

"Thank you so much for your trouble," he smiled.

As we closed the door I was literally burning with curiosity. Who in the hell knew Thomas was here to be writing to him? I had a slightly sick feeling in the pit of my stomach though, so I didn't dare ask.

He opened the letter as he sat down and I sat beside him, watching for… well I didn't know what I was looking for really, I was just watching him like a hawk as he read.

Suddenly he let out a breath and a smile crept onto his lips.

"Oh my," he breathed.

I had visions of Lucille having found a host and writing to tell Thomas to join her.

"Oh, this is such good news," he turned to me and smiled.

Despite his warm smile, my heart was in my throat and my palms were sweating. I was turning into some paranoid deluded… something.

"My mother was of a slightly suspicious disposition," he began. "She constantly thought the staff was stealing from her and she liked to hide things. She had little hiding places all over this house for various trinkets, some of which I'm sure I didn't even know about. I knew all our assets would now belong to the new owner of the house and even if I could claim the money that they paid for the property, I can't prove who I am, so no one would believe me."

"Okay..."

"I knew some of Mother's hiding places though, so I went looking the other night and I found her jewellery box, untouched."

"But like you said, it doesn't belong to you."

"But the people who bought the house don't know anything about it, they won't miss it. it wasn't included in the appraisal of the property or listed on the auction."

I supposed not, although it seemed a little dishonest.

"Here," he handed me the letter, which was from a well-known London auction house. I scanned the top part of the letter, then at the bottom was a list of items and estimated valuations.

"The other day in town, I slipped off to visit a jewellers and showed them some of mother's jewellery. He told me he could give me a valuation but to make real money, I should sell them through someone in London. It seems he went ahead and sent pictures and his appraisal to the firm, and this is their estimates."

Natural pearl and diamond necklace and a brooch, 19th century: The necklace composed of a line of millegrain set circular cut diamonds, accented with five button to slightly baroque button shaped natural pearls measuring from approximately 6.85 x 7.50 x 6.80mm to 8.45 x 9.55 x 8.00mm, alternating with brilliant cut diamond quatrefoil motifs, length approximately 380mm, may be worn as two bracelets measuring 187 and 190mm, or the central pearl segment may be worn with an additional brooch fitting; and a bar brooch en suite, the natural pearl measuring approximately 7.65 x 8.00mm Estimate: £15,000 £20,000

Holy SHIT!

Sapphire, half pearl and diamond pendant/brooch, late 19th century… Estimate: £9,000 £13,000

Sapphire and diamond ring, early 19 th century… Estimate £20,000 £30,000

Natural pearl and diamond brooch and a natural pearl ring, late 19th century… Estimate £30,000 £50,000

I looked on the next two sheets and found that the list went on to describe another nine items.

"I told you I'd repay you for your kindness, didn't I?"

I glanced up at him to see him watching me with an eager smile on his face.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I felt tears stinging my eyes; how could I have doubted him?

"I didn't know how much they were worth," he said. "I couldn't stand to raise your hopes and find out that antiques were worthless in this time. I wanted to wait until I was sure I could build a future for us, a secure life together. Please don't be upset."

I was upset and couldn't stop my tears from spilling over, but I wasn't upset with him.

I couldn't believe that I had nearly let my suspicions drive me away from him. Here I was, thinking his sneaking around must have a nefarious explanation but instead, he was willing to sell heirlooms to pay back his debt to me. Well, he probably wanted this money to start a life here too.

"I'm sorry," I said, throwing my arms around his neck.

"What for?" he sounded amused as he returned my embrace.

"Doubting you," I explained. "I heard you creeping around one night, and I knew you hadn't got lost in town. I thought…" I didn't even want to voice what I thought.

"Hush, Katherine, Beelphegor makes people paranoid, remember? It's not your fault. If anything I'm the one who is sorry for making you worry," he said sincerely. "I didn't realise you had seen me. I had a tendency to play my cards close to my chest. When you live in a, what did you call it, a murder house? When you live in a murder house, you tend to become quite circumspect, but I never wanted to worry you, my darling."

My tears were slowing and I pulled away, wiping at my eyes.

"It's not your fault," I assured him. "The world has become a lot more cynical since you left it."

He kissed me softly and my skin tingled from the contact. If this man was a drug and I was addicted, it was time for my next hit. I deepened the kiss, pressing my tongue into his mouth as I crawled onto his lap.

His hands found my bum and he massaged it, making me grind my sex over his crotch.

He growled and nipped at my lower lip, which both shocked me and made me laugh.

"I think we need to adjourn to the bedroom," he said in a deep, lust filled voice.

"I couldn't agree more."

My lust stemmed from a desire to make up for my suspicions, his was just natural. He may hail from the stuffy, uptight Victorian era, but the man was literally sex on legs, so much so that even with over a hundred years, Kinsey, sex education, and porn literally at our fingertips, Thomas was the best lover I had ever had.

And he proved that again as he kissed his way down my body, settling between my legs. He didn't go straight for my sex, as every other lover I've ever had would, instead he began with my thighs, then he covered my mons with kisses. Only when I was writhing with need, begging him to stop teasing me, did he part my lips and tease my clit.

Still, my torment was far from over as he continued to tease me to the point of distraction. I fisted my hands in his hair and tried to urge him on but he ignored me, and when I pulled too hard, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down.

When he finally brought me to orgasm, I screamed. I actually screamed.

Then he crawled up my body and slid his length into my hot sheath, setting off another smaller climax, and prolonging my pleasure as he took his own.

When he finally spilled his seed inside me, I was feeling totally relaxed.

As Thomas rolled onto his back, he took me with him and, languid and boneless, I stayed on top, not even having the strength to settle myself more comfortably against him.

I knew that these times were indulgent, the clock was ticking and we had no answers, but without them I thought I might go insane from the tension I felt the rest of the time.

Right now though, as I let go a contented sigh, I couldn't find the will to care. There would be time enough to care when this interlude was over, but for right now I was at peace.

The Halloween Masquerade Ball was being put on to highlight the house's ability to cater functions, and I had to attend as part of my contract for staying here, so that I could report on it in my review and articles.

I'd bought my dress and mask before coming here so I was prepared, but I wasn't looking forward to it.

We still hadn't found a way to stop Lucille and I was worried because Samhain was the day when she was strongest in this realm. What if she tried to possess me? Well, no, she would try to possess me. And she would succeed because I had no way of fighting her off.

I'd been preoccupied with such thoughts all day but I was doing my best to focus on the book I was reading; surely one of them must have a solution?

"Katherine?"

We were at opposite ends of the sofa but my feet were in his lap and the fingers of his free hand were caressing my calves and ankles. I looked over to him, my expression questioning… and probably terrified. I felt as tense as a cat at a dog show.

"I think I may be onto something."

I swung my legs down and shuffled over the sofa until I could see his book, but it seemed to be written in another language. I didn't remember buying any foreign books but I had bought so many, any that references Beelphegor, new and secondhand, so it was more than possible that I just hadn't realised one wasn't in English. I'd spent over two thousand all in all because while there weren't hundreds of books, some of the older ones were hellishly expensive.

"There's two things," Thomas began, flipping to an earlier part of the book. "This here is a recipe for a protective potion which will ward off evil. It's generic and it may not work on Beelphegor specifically, but this book is about demonology, so it certainly can't hurt to try."

I looked down at the page, titled Possessionem Videntibus Vulvam.

"What's in it?" I asked.

"Sage, fennel, mugwort, tarragon, vervain and just a touch of garlic; nothing harmful. The really helpful bit though is here,"

He flipped back to the middle of the book. "This is a banishment charm for higher order creatures."

"Is that Latin?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so what does it say?"

"As I said, it's a ritual to banish Beelphegor. This, or a variation on it, may well have been what was used to trap her before."

"Okay, so tell me what I need to do?"

It sounded relatively simple actually, but Thomas assured me he would write a phonetic translation out so I could read and memorise it. Basically, I had to find some kind of charm that was connecting the two worlds, which would be where the connection to Beelphegor was strongest. Then I had to light six candles, chant in Latin until I felt 'something' (he couldn't tell me what, exactly), then seal the spell by blowing out the candles and spilling some of the wax.

Only trouble was, we didn't have candles or the herbs he wanted for the protective potion, so we headed into town. I went and bought some candles and cheap holders, then visited a catholic church so I could dip them in Holy Water, and to save time, Thomas hunted for an herbal shop for the ingredients for his protective brew.

I'd be lying if I said his herbal brew didn't remind me of the tea Lucille made for Edith, but to date all my suspicions about Thomas had been unfounded. That wasn't going to stop me checking on the ingredients he bought later, but I would try to do so surreptitiously.

I also had to admit that I felt a twinge of hope, although I forced it back down. Yes, it would be wonderful if we had a solution but I didn't dare believe it yet.

The candles were easy to find and the Catholic Church wasn't hard, but it was a fairly long walk. Once inside I took a seat in a pew and took out the incantation instructions that Thomas had translated for me.

It said the candles had to be anointed in holy water. Suddenly unsure what anointed meant (did it mean dumped in water? Because if so the wick would need drying out) I took my phone out and looked the term up.

It meant smeared or rubbed with something, so rub the water on the candles. I could manage that.

I put my phone and instructions away, then looked up when a shadow fell over me.

"May I help you, Miss?"

The priest stood over me. He was younger than I would have expected.

"I'm sorry, I'll go."

"Please don't," he smiled and sat in the pew in front of me, but sideways so he could still see me. "I'd hate to chase you off, we're here for anyone who needs us, but you looked troubled and I wondered if you'd like a friendly ear."

Talk about an understatement.

"Where to start," I joked.

"If you want, just start talking. The rest will take care of itself."

What did I want to talk about?

"Do you believe in evil?" I found myself asking.

"I do," he nodded. "There is no doubting that men are capable of great evil. However, people are also capable of great good, and no one is all good or all evil."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked.

"I'm sure." He sounded certain. "All you have to do it look into the eyes of a baby to know that we are not born bad. Evil is learned, it's not innate."

His words hung in the air for a few long moments.

"What about other… entities?" I asked in a small voice.

"You mean the devil?"

I shrugged. I could hardly tell him I was about to be possessed by a demon, he'd think I was mad.

"I'm not sure if the Devil is real, but then I don't have proof that God is, either. I have faith however, and even if the Devil isn't real, there is no doubting that we are all tempted into doing wrong at various points in our lives, so even if he doesn't exist, the concept of a devil is still valid."

I didn't know if I could take any solace from his words or not.

"We should never forget however, that the Devil began life as an Angel, so not even he was all bad."

"Do you think he can be saved?" I asked, not really sure why but the question popped into my head.

"If the Devil repents and begs forgiveness, then he absolutely can be saved. The real question is, will he do that?"

As nice as it would be if Lucille, or Beelphegor, decided to repent, I seriously doubted it would happen in time to save me.

I looked into the priest's eyes. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he smile at me. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I felt embarrassed saying anything but now I knew he was here, I could hardly sneak around and do it, could I?

"I, uh, I was going to anoint some candles with holy water, if that's all right, so I can light them when I…" I blushed, 'so I can light them when I fight a demon later'. Yeah, that would go down well. "It's silly."

"Give me the candles," he said and I did.

He stood up and, worried what he was about to do, I followed him to the font. To my surprise he anointed each candle with water and recited some kind of Latin prayer over them, then he handed them back to me with a smile.

"Now you can light them while you pray," he told me.

Light them when I pray, yeah, that would make more sense.

"Thank you, Father."

"My pleasure. Come back any time."

"I'm only up here on holiday."

"The offer still stands, and I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers."

"Thank you." I slipped the candles into by bag and backed away. "Goodbye."