The Devil's Touch

'Mother—' Sam whispered. And as if the elder Balon had anticipated the question, the letter continued:

She has made her choice. Tony has gone over to the other side. He has done so willingly; indeed, a long time ago. I could not stop him, for his faith is weak, as is his flesh. And that is something you will have to deal with as well.

You have a mission, son, and I do not envy you your task, for it could destroy you—not necessarily physically, and I can say no more about that. But you are as surely set to this mission as 1 was, years ago. You will be tempted, and you will fall to some of those temptations, for you are a mortal, blessed in a manner of speaking, but still a mortal.

A coven is being established at Falcon House. It is a house of evil, and you must return there. Your job is there. You will not be able to contact anyone in Whitfield. Whitfield is dead; past saving. But your mother will speak to you—in some manner—before she slips through the painful darkness to the other side, and to peace and blue and light.

We will meet someday, son. I am certain of that and can tell you no more about my surety.

The feelings you and the girl share is something that you both must cope with. I cannot help you and I will not lecture you. But I will say this: The union that produced Nydia was not a holy union. If anything, it was blessed by the Dark One.

'Riddles,' Sam said. 'The letter is filled with riddles, and I don't know what they mean.'

I love you deeply, Sam, and wish I could be of more help to you in your task. But I have said too much already.

Now I must go. Place the picture of me in the envelope, for that is all of me I can give you that will remain tangible. Put the letter on the table and do not touch it again.

Love, Father

Sam placed the picture in the envelope, the letter on the table. Together, still in mild shock, not knowing what to believe, the young man and woman watched the pages dissolve into nothing. Then they were alone.

Nydia put her head on Sam's shoulder and wept.

'Lordy!' Joe said.

Sam felt his chest begin burning. He put down his AK-47 and unbuttoned his shirt. All could see the brown burn on the white of Sam's T-shirt.

Nydia helped him out of his shirt and Sam pulled his T-shirt off. The cross dangling from a chain around his neck was glowing a golden fire.

Noah, Father Le Moyne, and Jeanne crossed themselves. Joe stood in numb shock.

'The same way the cross you gave me in Montreal did,' Nydia said.

'Yeah,' Sam said, putting his shirt back on. 'He's here, very close, I believe.'

'Don't that burn you?' Joe asked, recovering from his shock.

'For a few seconds,' Sam told him. 'It will just deepen the scar already there.'

'Why do you believe your father is not here to help you?' Noah asked.

'It's just a feeling I have. I can't explain it any further than that.'

'Nydia is wearing the cross that received the blessing at the airport,' Father Le Moyne mused aloud. 'And now the cross you wear has been blessed from beyond the veil. I knew none of this. I believe of all of us, Sam, you have the power to destroy a demon.'

'My father is not a saint,' Sam told the priest. 'He is a resident of Heaven, but that doesn't make him a—doesn't give him the power to make me something I am not.'

The priest smiled. 'I disagree with that, Sam. Very strongly. Did you not tell me you faced down one of the Devil's creatures up in Canada? That you fought a warlock and defeated him? Yes, you did. And yes, Sam, I believe you have been blessed.'

A bullet slammed through a window, the lead whining off a wall, finally coming to rest after bouncing around on the carpet. Everybody in the room had hit the floor.

'I may be blessed, Father,' Sam said dryly. 'But if you don't mind, I'd rather not have to prove it by getting myself shot.'

'Lordy!' Joe said.

FOUR

The day dragged on slowly, with the low clouds and occasional mist seeming to wrap a dirty shroud around the landscape. That one shot was, so far, the only hostile move taken by the Devil worshippers.