“No. It’s none I’ve ever encountered before. It wasn’t angry or frightened until it realized that I knew how to force it out. That’s unusual for Qliphoth. They’re incomplete creatures and they know it, so it makes them fearful and vicious. This one was patient and thoughtful.”
Traven walks to the windows and opens them to let the smoke out. I follow him so I can flick my ashes outside over the university.
I say, “I think we’re going to need more information before we try the exorcism again. We’re missing something important.”
“I’ve been going through my books trying to identify the specific creature, but I haven’t had any luck.”
“Perhaps I can help you with your research,” says Vidocq. “I have my own library, if you would like to see it.”
“Thank you. I would.”
“You two can play librarians. I’m going to make some calls and break some people’s toys until one of them starts giving us answers.”
“Cool,” Candy says.
“Father, I know you must use the university library. Have you ever heard anyone talk about a drug called Akira?”
“Of course. It’s popular among some of the students. Artists. New Agers. Those sort of thing.”
“Do you know anything about the drug itself?”
“Not really. All I remember is that it seemed like it was harder to get than other drugs. That there were only a few people who sold it.”
“Thanks.”
I shake Traven’s hand and I let Vidocq and Candy go out ahead of me. I start out, stop, and turn. It’s an old trick.
“One more thing, Father. Julia never told us why you are excommunicated.”
He’s thinking. Not sure he wants to answer.
“I’ll tell you if you promise to talk with me about Hell sometime,” he says.
“Deal.”
Traven goes back to his desk and picks up the book he’d hidden earlier.
“I don’t like other people to see this particular book. It seems wrong for it to be a mere curiosity.”
“I saw you cover it up.”
The spray of red on the front of the book nearly covers an ancient sigil.
“I don’t recognize the symbol.”
“It’s the sign of one of the Angra Om Ya cults,” says Vidocq, looking over my shoulder.
Traven nods.
“You’ll understand why the church was so angry with me. They have an unswerving policy that there is no God but their God. There never was D;
“You translated the Angra Om Ya’s bible. No wonder God doesn’t want you whacking his pinata anymore.”
“Certainly the Church doesn’t.”
“It isn’t all bad, Father. I own a video store. Come around sometime. The damned get a discount.”
He gives us one of his exhausted smiles.
“That’s very kind of you. Since leaving the Church, I’ve come to believe that it’s the little, fleeting pleasures like watching videos that mean the most in this life.”
“Amen to that.”
WHEN WE’RE BACK in the car I call the Sentenzas. K.W. answers.
“K.W., it’s Stark. Did Hunter ever tell you where he got his drugs? Maybe give you a name?”
A slight pause.
“It was a girl. Not a girlfriend exactly, but someone he spent time with. Hang on a minute.”
Over the phone comes the sound of things being moved. Furniture scrapes. K.W. curses. Then he’s back on the phone.
“I knew he’d written it down somewhere. Her name is Carolyn. Carolyn McCoy.”
“Is there an address?”
He reads it to me.
“Okay. Thanks. We’ll be in touch.”
I call up the phone’s map app and punch in the address. It’s off the Golden State Freeway in Sun Valley.
Vidocq is in the backseat. I turn to look at him.
