“Aiden!” Raven frowned at him. “Light in order to conquer dark. That includes thinking positive.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but Capiria stepped in front, taking his attention. “That church we passed on the way into town. Did you happen to catch whether it was Roman Catholic?”
“No, why?”
She glanced toward the end of the long driveway before answering. “There’s one crucial item I didn’t bring. Chrism oil. It can only be found at a Catholic church.”
Luke held up his phone. “I googled it. St. Cecelia’s, Chemin Royal, Île d’bec, Quebec Canada. Care for the schedule of weekly masses?”
“Good.” Capiria nodded. “Give me your car keys. I need to speak to the pastor, and see if he’ll open the sacristy for a little holy oil.”
Gabrielle walked to Luke’s side, peering over his arm to his phone. “We should have our meeting first, and then Luke and I will go for the chrism.”
“Why?” the old witch asked.
“Because you don’t speak French, and Luke does.”
Capiria grinned her gnome-like grin. “Like I keep saying, there’s hope for you yet, little witch.”
Chapter Eleven
“Ooh, Luke! Look at that cute ice cream shoppe.” Gabrielle closed the passenger door to the SUV. “Think we could grab a cone, or two or three?”
He laughed. “Sure, why not. You’re clearly eating for two.”
Grinning, she smacked his arm as he met her on the other side of the car. “It’s your fault. This baby is half wolf, so its metabolism is off the charts. We’d better pack a half dozen candy bars tonight. If I get a sugar craving with no chocolate in sight, that demon won’t know what hit it.”
“Sounds like Raven isn’t our only secret weapon.” He laced his fingers with hers and they walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk toward the church.
“Hey! The ice cream shoppe is the other way.”
“We need to get to the pastor before he finishes saying twelve o’clock mass. Don’t you remember anything about church from childhood?”
“I don’t remember disappearing priests as part of my catechism.”
Luke laughed. “No one bothers a rural priest after their lunch. We’d need dynamite to get past the rectory housekeeper. The pastor has his nip of holy wine during mass, then disappears for a meal that would choke a horse and an afternoon nap.”
“Why do we need this magic oil anyway? Its not like any of us will get close enough to douse the demon with it.”
“I’m sure your witchy elder has her reasons. It’s consecrated oil. From what I remember, chrism is an ancient recipe. A blend of olive oil, cinnamon, cassia, kaneh-bosem, and myrrh.”
“Myrrh. As in, ‘they brought gifts of frankincense, gold and myrrh?’”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“You got me there. Funny, though. I looked up the ingredients, once. Kaneh-bosem is actually Aramaic for cannabis.”
“Holy MaryJane!”
“Yup. The Catholic Church cooked up the O.G. CBD oil.”
Gabrielle laughed. “Literally.”
They went up the steps to the little church. Inside it was dark, but fragrant. Years of candlewax and incense. The pastor was still at the altar cleaning up. Luke went to dip his fingers in the holy water at the entrance, but Gabby held his wrist.
“Hey!”
“Do you know how many people dip their dirty hands in that water? Holy or not, that is E Coli soup.”
Luke pulled his hand back, a little taken aback. “I never thought of it that way.”
“Ew, right?”
He took her hand, and they walked up the aisle toward the altar steps. “Excuse me, Father?”
The priest turned. “Yes, my son?”
They spoke it rapid, mellifluous French. Gabrielle only caught a few words, but the priest smiled, nodding and then held up one finger before disappearing into the sacristy.
“Is he going for lunch or is he going for church sanctioned CBD oil?”
Luke smirked. “Don’t get cute. The man is being very accommodating. Of course, I had to tell him we were getting married soon, so—”
“Did you tell him why, papa wolf?”
He kissed the side of her head. “There’s only one reason, Gabrielle Sancier, and you know it. I love you.” He grinned, shrugging. “Of course, you being knocked up just speeds the process.”
“You!” She punched his arm.
The priest came back with a small, round container. The kind you’d find in a travel toiletry set. Luke took it from him with another exchange in French, nodding his thanks. The man lifted his hand for a quick blessing and a wave before turning for the sacristy again.
“Mission accomplished?”
Luke nodded again. “He was very gracious, but you should put this in your purse. It’s all we’re getting.”
Gabby took the small container, sticking it inside a side zip compartment. No sooner did she close the flap on her purse, than a loud growl menaced from behind.
Luke whirled. An enormous rust-colored wolf stalked from the side entrance of the church. Teeth bared, it advanced in attack stance, with its haunches up and its large head down.
“Gabby, get to the car. Don’t question and don’t wait. Just go. Get Aiden and Jared.” He shoved the car keys at her and then phased on the fly, clothes shredding everywhere.
In that same second, the red wolf vaulted over Luke, for Gabrielle. Luke shot straight up, catching the red wolf’s leg in his jaws. The red wolf twisted free, but its trajectory faltered. Instead of hitting Gabby full force, its snout clipped her in the head, knocking her backward. She fell against one of the pews, smacking her head on the polished wood.
Pain shot through her skull, as
