Counselor of the Damned (6 page)

He ordered for them and through most of the meal—and a bottle of very good wine—allowed her to quiz him on his eating habits, favorite meals and such. As they shared a rich, warm molten lava cake, she paused midsentence to let the sweet, moist treat dissolve on her tongue.

“Your expression is more enticing than the dessert.”

She licked the melted chocolate off her lips, enjoying herself too much to be embarrassed. “Chocolate is another vice. One I live with happily.”

“I understand. My desire for chocolate can get quite unruly at times.”

“As bad as your craving for blood?” she blurted. Maybe she’d had too much wine. Sobering, she put down her spoon. “Sorry, I—”

He put down his wineglass, his smile gone, though he didn’t exactly look angry. “It’s all right. I know your job is to ask these questions. Even if I don’t wish to answer them.”

She truly hadn’t meant for the conversation to come back to his blood problem, but he was right, pushing him was her job. She forged ahead. “I have to ask, are things worse for you since I put you on the chimp blood?”

He steepled his fingers, a tiny smirk on his lips. “You are making me drink it, are you? Ruining my life.” He actually snickered.

Tegonni’s hands worried at the stem of her glass. “You know what I mean. Is it working?”

Leaning against the bar, he supported himself on one elbow as he looked at her. He didn’t answer right away. She realized she was holding her breath and forced it out.
Please, answer yes.

Finally he spoke. “It’s perfect for what I need it to do, which is release me from drinking human blood until I take the Eucharist or touch Holy Fire. So yes, it is working.”

“I thought we were discussing alternatives.”

“Yes, but my goals haven’t changed.” He touched her shoulder. “Tegonni, I thank you for your aid, but you can’t take responsibility for my life or death. It’s my decision.”

“I’m not trying to make decisions for you.”

“Aren’t you? Do you not feel burdened to change my mind?”

She looked away.

He tapped his fingertips on her shoulder. “As I thought.”

“I don’t want to offend you, but I can’t honestly say I will stop trying to change your mind.”

“I’m hardly weak-minded, so your efforts are not intrusive. However, I worry for you. I hate to think how crushed you will be when you fail.” His voice caressed her, gentle in tone.

Did she detect real concern for her? Her stomach flipped. She liked the notion, but she also knew she shouldn’t. Responding only to his words, she chuckled. “Don’t be too certain. I can be very persuasive.”

“I’m sure you can.” He returned her laugh. He moved his hand from her shoulder to play with the curls of her hair. He watched the strands move through his fingers. Now he was just flirting. She should stop him, no matter how nice it felt.

His eyes refocused on hers, and his warm smile threatened to melt her resolve. “You are a compelling woman. Strong, beautiful, caring. If things were different, if I were different…” He leaned in, his breath sweet with the wine they’d been drinking.

Crap. Too far, too far!
“Fernando, wait.” She pulled away. “I’m flattered, but things aren’t different. You are a client, and flirtation is outside the bounds of that relationship.” She gave a sharp nod and may have ruined the image of firmness she attempted to project by downing the rest of her wine in one long gulp. She didn’t care. Her heart hammered, and her skin felt hot. He’d almost kissed her. This gorgeous, Latin, modern-day gentleman whose voice made her weak. And she’d stopped him. Was she a saint or an idiot? Or just a Lightworker who liked her job?

“Forgive me, senhorita.”

The bartender gave Fernando the check, ending the discussion. However, she had the feeling Fernando had more to say. She slid off her stool, grateful to put some space between them.

On the walk back, she steered him away from the discussion with trivial questions about the hotel and how he enjoyed his work. He remained amiable to the change in topic, fortunately. They reached her little Mazda, and Tegonni dug her keys out of her purse. “Thank you for dinner.”

“My pleasure. And I want you to know I respect your ethical boundaries.”

“Thank you.” She hoped he wouldn’t say anything more. She went for her door, but he held up a hand, forestalling her.

“I just don’t see how they apply as I’m not an official client. I think the real issue is my being a vampire. I don’t flirt with you for mere entertainment.” He stroked her cheek. “I flirt with you so I can pretend I’m a human man. Someone worthy of wooing you.”

Her breath hitched. She opened her mouth to assure him he was worthy—so kind and dedicated and principled—but she couldn’t tell him that. It would be a cruel half-truth. He was all those things, but he was also a vampire with a soul destined for damnation. That shouldn’t negate the rest…but it did.

Apparently taking her silence for agreement, he said, “How can being seen as worthy in Heaven’s eyes be enough when I can’t enjoy the benefits of a redeemed man?”

He kissed her hand and then took her keys and opened the car door.

Reluctantly she got inside. She needed to say something, anything, to fix this. But he closed her door and strode away, taking the opportunity with him.

Chapter Five

The next day, Tegonni sat staring at her computer screen, thoughts of her dinner with Fernando keeping her from focusing on her work. The monitor winked out, sleep mode engaging after several minutes of inactivity. This was the third time this morning she found herself looking at a blank screen while she rehashed last evening’s events. Annoying, since the same thoughts had kept her tossing and turning all night. She didn’t bother to wake her computer this time.

Fernando had been flippant about his cravings, but somehow, she believed him when he said he could handle them. Maybe because she couldn’t imagine any addiction defeating Fernando. His will and inner strength were too strong.

She shoved her keyboard drawer under her desk and groaned, wondering if her assessment was less than objective. That was what had kept her up last night. Was she getting too personal? More importantly, was he getting too personal?

She cringed, remembering his last words.
“How can being seen as worthy in Heaven’s eyes be enough when I can’t enjoy the benefits of a redeemed man?”
The benefits. Her. He was focused on her instead of Matanji’s concession.
I’m a distraction
. Possibly from his only shot at salvation.

Tegonni closed her eyes and took a deep breath. No sense in dramatizing one comment. Perhaps the benefits he referred to were more general. Maybe he hadn’t been talking about being worthy of her, but being deserving of a romantic, loving relationship. It came back to his self-loathing—a worrisome challenge but surmountable. The latter was preferable, professionally speaking. However, part of her liked the idea of him wanting to date her specifically. Really liked it.

Damn
. How could she help him if they were both losing sight of the objective?

“I’m not losing sight,” she told the reflection in the computer screen. Just because she reacted to him as any woman would to an attractive, interested man, didn’t mean she couldn’t be objective. She’d have to work harder at it was all. And Fernando, well, she’d have to keep him focused as well.

“Dr. Ellis?” Melissa poked her head into the office. “Have a few minutes?”

“Sure. Come on in.” Happy to be distracted from her ruminations on Fernando, Tegonni pushed back from the computer and swiveled ninety degrees to face her writing desk and the intern seated before it. “I was going to call you about the Jones and Deveroe cases.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Melissa tucked one side of her precision-cut bob behind her ear as she took an exaggerated inhale and then blew it out. “Caden Jones is driving me bonkers!”

Tegonni kept her face neutral, though Melissa’s lack of professional distance was uncharacteristic.
I’m so not the one to lecture her on that today.

“Sorry, Dr. Ellis.”

Tegonni waved a hand. “We’ve all been frustrated by a case now and then. What’s the problem?”

“Caden says he understands the risk they all took in doing a demon summoning and swears he won’t do it again. I believe him, but I don’t think he’s sorry he participated in this one.”

“Your case notes say he won’t talk about why he did. That still true?”

She threw up her hands. “Yes. I’ve explained to him that remorse is the key to removing the satanic miasma residue on his soul, and that leaving the miasma will make him susceptible to demonic influence. He says, ‘Sure, I’m sorry,’ but I get the distinct impression he doesn’t really care about the miasma. Same with Miles Deveroe. I don’t think they understand or believe the miasma exists.”

“That’s not uncommon. Most people can’t discern the stuff in their energy field.” Nevertheless, the demon their circle of thirteen had summoned partially manifested in the physical, killing three of them. How could they doubt that? “Were they afraid when the demon appeared?”

Melissa paused and ran her hand over her forehand. “I believe Caden was, though he tries to project nonchalance. Mr. Deveroe is different. He doesn’t seem to understand the danger of what they did. Like it was a big adventure or video game. He liked the excitement.”

Tegonni grabbed her keyboard and tapped a couple of computer keys until Miles Deveroe’s intake notes came up. “You agree with the initial assessment that he isn’t a worshipper?”

“Definitely. Totally out of profile. He’s a nice older gentleman and has been cooperative.”

“Mmmm.” Satan worshippers as a rule didn’t allow themselves to be whisked into Lightworker headquarters for counseling. “I’m leaning toward diminished mental capacity. I’ll interview him for a psychiatric referral. As for Jones, let’s go ahead with the cleansing glyph and see if it takes.”

“Thanks, Dr. Ellis.” Melissa popped out of the chair and smoothed her long, pale skirt. “Miles Deveroe is here now. I was hoping you could speak with him and give me a second opinion. A psych referral sounds like a good idea.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I can see him before I head to lunch.”

“Great. He’s so sweet. I really want to help him.”

Tegonni smiled at her intern’s back as Melissa left the office. “I know how you feel,” she said to the empty doorway.

After putting her computer on standby, she left her small office and crossed the hall to the sitting room she preferred to use for client sessions. She flipped on the table lamp and the gas fireplace in the corner. A soft, warm glow filled the cozy, windowless room. She sat in her usual spot, the easy chair nearest the fire, leaving the chair closer to the door, and the love seat opposite, open.

When Melissa came in supporting an elderly man with a cane, Tegonni rose and took his other arm. She smiled at him while hiding the anger burning in her chest. How could anyone involve a frail old man in such a dangerous ritual? He was probably senile and had no idea how serious his actions were. The referral should be straightforward.

“How about you sit here, Mr. Deveroe?” Melissa guided him toward the love seat.

“Thank you, dearie.” He hobbled to the sofa and, pulling heavily on their assisting hands, sat down. Leaning his cane against the seat next to him, he said, “Whew! Everything takes a bit more effort at my age. Thanks for the assistance, young ladies.”

“Of course, Mr. Deveroe. This is Dr. Tegonni Ellis.” Melissa patted his arm and then sat in the free easy chair.

“So you’re in charge of our ragtag group of survivors, are you, young woman?”

Tegonni, smiling, sat back down and extended her hand. “I suppose so. It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to talk with me.”

He reached out slowly and shook her hand, but his grip was firm. “My pleasure. I was hoping to meet you. Bonus points.”

“I’m sorry. Bonus points?”

He chuckled as he pulled at the knee of his cotton pants. “Aw, nothing. Don’t mind me.”

Tegonni glanced at Melissa, but the intern only shrugged. “Mr. Deveroe, Melissa explained why I wanted to talk to you?”

“Sure she did. You want to make sure I understand my actions were wrong.”

Tegonni laid her hands on her lap, trying to appear relaxed and nonjudgmental. “How do you feel about having helped summon the demon?”

He shook a gnarled finger at her. “Come now, missy. No use trying to pretend you’re nonjudgmental about it. I know you think it was evil.” His eyes got big and he leaned forward. “And I agree with you. Good folks shouldn’t be messing with those kinds of forces.”

Tegonni refrained from glancing at Melissa. The man sounded competent. “So you do regret being part of the circle?”

“Heck no! It was loads of fun.” He whooped, revealing straight teeth, too stark white to be anything but dentures.

“That notion seems at odds with what you just said about good people not messing with demonic forces.”

“Well, what’s the use of being my age if I can’t break the rules a little? Not like I was really risking anything.”

Melissa shot Tegonni a pointed look.

Definitely an impaired-judgment case
. Tegonni mentally sorted through the psychiatrists on staff, deciding who would be the best fit.

“You want to know why I’m not afraid of the demon we summoned?” He smirked at her with a happy twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes, I am curious.”

“Well, Mr. B and I go way back. No way is he going to let some snot-nosed red-skin get out of hand with me.”

He was making no sense again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Deveroe. Who?”

Chuckling, he looked from Tegonni to Melissa. “You girls don’t know much, do you? That’s okay, you’ll learn.”

Knots tightened in Tegonni’s stomach. She hovered her fingers over the panic button hidden in the front of her chair’s armrest. Security would be here within moments if she pushed it. She spoke slowly and remained calm. “What do you mean, Mr. Deveroe? Who is Mr. B?”

His laugh turned into a cackle that crawled along her skin. Melissa swore softly.

Tegonni pressed the panic button before standing. She worked at a blank face as his gray irises darkened with swirls of black.