Night Call (Book 2): Demon Dei (11 page)

“Mr Hawkins?” the man at the front desk asked.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

The man smiled. “The woman in the corner.”

Well well. “Are you sure?”

“She did tell me a Mr Hawkins would be joining her.” He glanced pointedly at his watch. “You’re late. It’s a wonder she’s still here.”

“Just lucky, I guess.” I headed over to the lady’s table.

The demonologist had her head bowed over the menu and a long, straight fall of black hair curtained off her face. Long legs in black stockings exposed by a short skirt were tucked under her seat, crossed at the ankles. Her silk blouse was deep burgundy, the colour repeated to the precise shade on her long fingernails.

“Hi,” I announced myself. “I’m Matt Hawkins.”

She looked up and smiled.

And I fell in love.

Okay, maybe not in love. Lust definitely. She was… beyond words to describe. Oh, I could wax lyrical about the pearly skin, the soft tilt to the edge of her eyes, the dark lashes that curled on forever, the cut-crystal blue of her irises, the sweet upward turn of the very end of her nose and the full, rose petal-pink lips and you’d get some idea of how she looked. But that didn’t explain her at all.

Maybe it was the sheer grace in the way she lifted her hand and held it out to me. Or the way her lips wrapped around the sounds that made her name…

“Lila Reyes.”

Possibly it was the way she unwound herself from the chair and stood to kiss my cheek.

Whatever. There was this… this… je ne sais quoi about her, and you know that’s drastic because it’s not often I’m at a loss for words.

“Sit,” she said and I did. A bit too hard to be considered cool, or even voluntary, but who cared about such things?

“Would you like something to drink?” the waiter asked.

Waiter? What waiter? Oh, that waiter. Wait. When had the waiter arrived?

“I’ll have a glass of water,” Lila said. “Mr Hawkins?”

Quick, brain. Think! “Ah, same.”

“Two waters,” muttered the waiter as he left.

“I’m glad you could make it” she said as she unfolded her napkin. That lucky bastard of a white linen was caressed by her slender fingers and then laid over her lap.

“Mr Hawkins?”

“Please,” I mumbled and then realised what I’d said. Shaking my head, I said, “Sorry. I was a million miles away. Yes, I’m glad I could make it too. I’m sorry for having kept you waiting.”

She smiled and oh Lord. All the fog I’d just cleared from my head came rushing back in.

“I was very intrigued to meet you. It’s not often I find someone with the same interests as myself.”

I dredged the depths of my mind for some dignity. “I can imagine demonology is not a growth field.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Our water arrived and the waiter asked if we were ready to order. I waved for Lila to order first. She skimmed the menu and then rattled off in perfect Japanese what she wanted.

I reverted to single syllables again. “Same.”

Lila smiled at me. “You speak Japanese?”

“No. Well, a guy I went to school with taught me some swear words, but I’ve long since forgotten them.”

Her laugh was a delightfully naughty giggle. “I could refresh your memory, if you wished, Mr Hawkins.”

Parts of me were already refreshed. “I think we can skip the language lesson. And please, call me Matt.”

“Lila,” she said again and again interesting things happened between her tongue and lips. “So, you’re interested in learning more about demons.”

“Yeah.”

“How much do you already know?”

“Treat me like a dunce.”

Her lips pursed into a deliciously evil smile. “If you wish.”

Before my mind could get twisted up in that smile, it vanished and she got down to business.

“Traditionally, demons are defined as subversive spirits with an interest in human affairs. The term demon is derived from the Greek, daimon, and means ‘replete with wisdom’. The Greek daimons weren’t the universally evil beings Christians turned them into. Daimons could be evil or good. In some cultures, demons are merely troublesome, but not evil per se. Their origin stories are just as convoluted. Judaism believes some demons were created by God on the Sabbath eve and he was unable to finish them, that’s why they’re just spirits. Other demons were born of Adam’s unions with female demons and therefore have bodies, while even more demons are created by the deaths of wicked people.” She sipped her water and gave me a significant look. “And that’s just the tip of Judaism. Beyond that, we have Christianity, the many eastern cultures all with their own beliefs and the ancient religions including but not limited to Babylonia, Persia and Egypt. So, Matt, is this a long term interest, or just a passing fancy?”

In the face of all that, I really hoped it was just a passing fancy. Maybe demonology as a whole was something I could contemplate later, when I wasn’t being hunted by a demon.

Lila sighed. “You weren’t expecting anything so complex, were you?”

“To be honest, no. I had kind of hoped it would all be a bit more straightforward than that.”

“What do you mean, straightforward?”

“Well, vampires for instance. I mean there is a mountain load of lore out there about them, like the idea they have to sleep in the soil of their home every day, or their aversion to Holy objects and garlic, or that they can’t be seen in mirrors. Some things are true, others are complete codswallop. There are common truths buried beneath all the different beliefs about vampires, common truths that show us the reality behind the myths. I was kind of hoping you could just tell me the common truth behind all the demon propaganda.”

Lila sat back, head tilted as she studied me. “Vampires?”

Right about then I began to wonder if Jacob had sent the right person to me. He must have had to source her from outside his little circle of contacts. I’d met a few of the people he had dealings with and they all knew about me and Mercy. They all believed in vampires, werewolves and all manner of supernatural beings. None of them would have looked at me like I had sprouted tentacles out of my nose at the mention of vampires.

“Do you actually believe in demons?” I asked.

“Do you believe in vampires?” she countered.

“I asked first.”

“No, I don’t believe in demons, because they don’t exist.”

“Forgive me, but a demonologist who doesn’t believe in demons? How does that work?”

“I study the literature about demons, looking for connections between various cultural myths and beliefs. Looking for, not so much common truths, but rather the evolution of the demon myth. How western religions adapted their later ideals from earlier beliefs. Judaic demonologies were influenced by the ancient Persian religion of Zoroastrianism and Christianity demonised pagan gods and goddesses as it spread across the European continent. I do admit that the myths and stories have a basis in reality, but it’s a reality closely tied to the development and exploration of the human subconscious. It doesn’t mean that these things actually exist.”

Thankfully, the food arrived and saved me from having to think of anything to say immediately. An array of dishes was laid out between us. I recognised sashimi (um, yeah, no), tempura (phew) and skewers of mystery meat sizzling away on a hot plate. Two tiny cups of what I guessed to be sake were the last things deposited and then the waiter vanished and my reprieve was over.

“You believe in vampires?” Lila asked again, using her chopsticks to delicately pick up a piece of raw salmon.

It was a difficult question to answer. Anyone else, I would have said ‘sure do’ and not worried about the long term repercussions. Let’s face it, me and long term repercussions weren’t exactly bunk mates lately. Got to have long term contact for there to be long term anything. But this was Lila. I wasn’t sure I wanted her to be short term.

So, I went for the cop-out. “I believe that some people believe in them.”

That bit of salmon went down with a fascinating little shiver in her throat. “That’s hardly an answer.” But there was a cheeky little quirk to her lips that said she forgave me.

“You mentioned that the human subconscious is linked to demons, or at least the perception of demons,” I added when she cocked a fine eyebrow. “I’d like to hear more about that.” I picked up a piece of tempura and covered it in sauce.

Lila took her time with another piece of sashimi, all the while giving me the I-know-you’re-trying-to-distract-me-and-at-the-same-time-suck-up look. I returned it with a politely interested expression. And I was interested. Her mention of the subconscious had caught my attention. For obvious reasons, I was rather keen on the thought of exploring my subconscious. That was where my link to Mercy was embedded, as were my psychic abilities. And if that could help me against this demon, than all the better.

“My belief,” Lila said, “is that the many incarnations of demons can be derived from the various approaches humans have explored in trying to determine the origin of their subconscious. Ancient Egyptians believed that Ra, their sun god, went each night to the underworld. Here, he entered the anus of
Apophis and journeyed through the snake to emerge from its mouth refreshed and victorious against the evils within Apophis. The snake’s intestine is both good—in that it gives life and succour—and evil—for it is there that the wicked are punished. The Egyptians believed that their own life spirit went with Ra on this journey, to also be refreshed. But the spirit’s bizarre experiences return to the sleeper in the forms of dreams and visions. This allusion to an underworld full of strange and mysterious thoughts was their way of rationalising their subconscious.

“This same pattern can be followed throughout history. For example, the Greeks had Hades, a place that was both symbolic and literal to them. The fact that these places of torture are beneath the ground is significant. Going down into the earth has long been symbolic of the search for one’s subconscious, where all the dark things we don’t like to admit to live. So, when the voice of your darkest desires speaks to you and convinces you do something socially abhorrent, you rationalise it away as being something foreign.”

I nodded. “The voices in my head made me do it.”

“Precisely. And thus a demon is born. This strange, driving force has come from somewhere deep inside you, therefore it must come ultimately from deep within the dark places of the earth. Let’s call that place the underworld, Hades, or Hell.”

“And over the centuries, demon possession has been proven to be schizophrenia or bi-polar or whatever.”

“Humans have an amazing ability to delude themselves. They construct fantastic stories to make excuses, to try to put logical, practical solutions to problems they can’t solve without admitting their culpability. Hence myths and religions are born.”

We were quiet for a moment, contemplating that. Lila finished off her sashimi and I considered the plates of untouched food. She spoke a good fight. If I hadn’t nearly bitten the big one last night thanks to a creature of fairy-tale proportions, I would have walked away with a lot to chew over. As it was, I knew better.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” I began.

“But?”

“But, isn’t there some evidence out there that demons could be something more than subconscious yearnings? Is it possible that they do exist?”

Lila sipped her sake. “I’ve investigated hundreds of supposed possession cases. Ninety-eight percent of phenomenon involved in those cases were proven to be caused by things as mundane as rats in the ceiling, subsiding ground or, as you said, mental illness. Some of it was purely fraudulent. The other two percent… Well, it’s statistically insignificant.”

“I often find that it’s the insignificant statistics that are the most interesting.”

“Okay,” she said with a definite challenge in her voice. “Let’s talk insignificant statistics. What makes you believe in demons? And I want the truth.”

The truth.

It was like a slap in the face. A bucket of cold water over my head. A gentle but serious kick in the groin. If only Erin was here to see it. And just like that, my head cleared of the fog that had seemed to cloud it since sitting down. Lila was beyond sexy, and intelligent, and while something long term might be nice, I wasn’t here for that. I needed knowledge.

“Remember, you asked for the truth,” I said and looked at Lila without the distraction of her sensuality.

For a second there, she looked annoyed. Then it smoothed out and I doubted I’d seen it at all. “I did.”

“The truth is I was attacked by a demon last night.”

Lila licked her lips and it wasn’t a seductive thing. It was nervous. “How attacked? Spiritually or physically?”

“Physically.”

“You saw it then?”

“Saw it, felt it, heard it. Shot it too.”

Eyebrow raised, she murmured, “Shot it. Interesting. Describe it to me.”

I did so and she nodded along as if was a regular description. Which made me a little more hopeful.

“You say it looked angelic,” she said when I’d finished. “Why call it a demon then?”

Since she seemed to have forgotten about my mention of vampires, I said, “It gave me the same heebie-jeebies as all the imps I’ve been encountering lately.”

“Imps?”

“Yeah, little demons. About as annoying as a possum in your roof, except they’re more likely to eat your cat than your papaya.”

Lila sat back and stared at me.

I chewed down the last of the tempura. “You asked.”

“I did,” she repeated faintly, then shook herself. When she spoke again, it was with the same confidence as before. “The driving Christian belief about demons is that they’re fallen angels. Once again, how and why they fell is up for debate. Some say they refused to bow down to Adam, or that they lusted after human women, but the prevailing idea is that they fell due to the sin of pride. They discovered free will.”

There was a bitter twist to her tone that intrigued me. “Responsibility for your own life is a tricky thing. Some people can’t handle it. Free will can be a bitch.”