?Raping pensioners? Knit one, pearl one, puncture windpipe? What do
?Their conscience. Whatever evil was inside them already has been given free rein. Whatever desires they feel, they satisfy by the simplest and most direct means they can find. If it?s lust, they rape; if it?s anger, they murder; if it?s greed, they pillage a shopping mall.?
?So you think those people at the Whiteleaf???
?I don?t think. I checked.?
She reached into the same bottomless pocket, brought out a small clutch of wallets and billfolds and let them fall onto the table. I suddenly remembered her on her knees next to one of the men she?d felled: I thought she was checking him for a pulse, but obviously she was frisking him.
?Jason Mills,? she said. ?Howard Loughbridge. Ellen Roederer.?
I checked the list, but I already knew what I?d find there.
?And Susan Book,? I added, just to show that I was keeping up.
?And Susan Book. Of course.?
Our food arrived. The waiter drew the process out as long as he could, his eyes all over Juliet from every angle he could decently manage. I sat on my impatience until he?d gone.
?So what are you saying?? I asked. ?All of these people were in church on Saturday, when . . . whatever it was that happened, happened? And it somehow turned off all of their inhibitions? All of their civilized scruples? Made them into puppets that can only respond to their own desires??
Helping herself to some
?What, all of them??
?All of them. Do you read the Bible much, Castor??
?Not when there?s anything good on the TV.?
?Commentaries and concordances? Textual exegesis??
?To date, never.?
?So do you know what the Jewish position on Christ is??
I shrugged impatiently, really not wanting to sit through what looked like it might be a very circuitous analogy. ?I dunno,? I said. ?They probably think he got in with the wrong crowd.?
?I mean, what exactly do they think he was? What
?I give up. Tell me.?
?They think he was a prophet. Like Elijah, or Moses. No more, no less. One in a long line. Someone who?d been touched by God, and could speak with God?s authority, but not God?s son.?
?So??
?But Christians think that the indwelling of God in Christ was different in kind from his indwelling in the prophets.?
I took a long slug on the whisky, as an alternative to playing straight man. Presumably she?d get to the point without any prompting from me.
?As in heaven, so in hell,? she said. ?When demons enter human souls, they can do it in a lot of different ways.? There was a pause while she ate, which she did with single-minded, almost feral enthusiasm. Then she fastidiously licked the corner of her mouth with a long, lithe, double-tipped tongue. That had made me shit a brick the first time I?d seen it. Nowadays I just wondered what else she could do with it besides personal grooming.
She held up an elegant hand, counted off on her fingers. Her fingernails shone with copper-colored varnish; or, possibly, just happened to be made of copper tonight. ?First, and easiest, there?s full possession, in which the human host soul is overwhelmed and devoured, and the body becomes merely a vessel for the demon as long as it chooses to use it. That?s commoner than you?d think, but usually it can only be done with consent.?
?You mean people ask to have their souls swallowed??
?Essentially, yes. They agree to a bargain of some kind. They accept the terms, and the terms include forfeiting their soul. Obviously they may have an imperfect understanding of what that means. An eternity of suffering in hell, or separation from God, or whatever the current orthodoxy is. But for us, it only ever means the one thing. It?s open season. We can eat them.?
Strong-stomached though I am, I was in danger of losing my appetite. She was enjoying this too damn much for my comfort.
?Who lays down the rules?? I demanded. ?Open season implies someone dealing out the hunting licenses. Is that???
?There are some things I?m not prepared to tell you,? Juliet interrupted, making a pass through the air with her hand like someone waving away a paparazzo?s camera. ?That?s one of them. But if you were going to say ?Is that God?? then the answer is no. It?s more . . . involved than that.?
? ?Involved???
?Complicated. Things fall out in a certain way, and accidents of the terrain give birth to rules of engagement. But in any case, that?s one form that possession can take?the most extreme form. The demon devours the human host and lives in its shell.?
?Okay,? I conceded. ?Go on.?
?Number two is house arrest. It?s possible for a demon to overwhelm a soul without its consent and hold it captive. Again, that would allow it to use the host body as if it were its own, but the human soul would still be inside, witnessing its own actions and even experiencing them, but as a passenger rather than a driver.?
?Fuck.? I let my laden chopsticks fall back into my pad thai. That was what Asmodeus did to Rafi: hijacked the bus and made him watch while he went on a joyride that was still going on two years later.
?One and two have a lot in common,? Juliet said, ignoring my discomfort. ?They both involve the demon literally invading the human host. But there are other ways in which human and demon can be grafted together. Other degrees and gradations, I suppose you could say. At the opposite extreme, a demon can
?Gift??
?Infect, if you prefer. Impart. Impose. Don?t argue semantics with me, Castor. You can?t expect me to have the same moral perspective on this that you have.?
?I guess not,? I acknowledged. ?And yet, here you are.?
Juliet shrugged with her eyebrows. ?It?s a job.?
?Right. Like if bubonic plague was a woman, and she signed on as a charge nurse in a hospital.?
She actually laughed at that. ?Yes. Exactly. Anyway, the point about gifting is that we can do it as many times as we like. It diminishes us a little, and that imposes a limit. A strong demon could gift a couple of hundred people at once, but it would be severely weakened afterwards. To get its full strength back, it would have to call all those pieces home eventually.?
?But in the meantime???
?In the meantime it would be as if each of those people had a tiny demon of their own, inside them?not controlling them, but encouraging them to see things from a more infernal perspective. And again, the stronger the demon, the more intense the persuasion. You might experience it just as a slight change in perceptions?so you?d suddenly be aware that if that traffic cop flags you down you could swerve just a little, hit him with your near-side wing, and give him something else to worry about. Or that if your girlfriend doesn?t want to kiss on a first date, drugging her and raping her is still an option.?
?Can I get you anything else?? The waiter had appeared again, assiduous as ever, like a dog who has to have a stick thrown for him every so often to stop him from humping your leg. I asked him to bring me another whisky; Juliet passed.
?Okay,? I said after he?d gone, ?you?ve made your case. St. Michael?s was visited by a demon, and little pieces of this demon rained down on all the people who were there at the time. But the demon didn?t possess them fully: he?s still there, inside the church, in some form or other, which explains the cold and the slo-mo heartbeat and all of the rest of that shit.?
?I didn?t say that,? said Juliet.
?Just joining the dots. Isn?t that what you meant??
Juliet downed her Bloody Mary in a single swallow. ?It?s a possibility,? she said. ?But I was giving you an example, not an explanation. Something possessed the St. Michael congregation, yes. Something strong enough to leave a piece of itself in each and every one of them. That could be a demon, but it wouldn?t have to be. Human ghosts can possess living things, after all?you?ve met the
I nodded reluctantly, but I wasn?t sold on that explanation. ?Yeah,? I agreed, ?I have. And if there?s one thing I know about loup-garous, it?s that they go for animal hosts for a reason. Human minds are too hard?way too hard. You hear stories about that kind of possession, but I never came across a case yet where it?s been proved to have happened.?
?Then I might be about to make history.?
Her tone worried me. ?I thought we were here to discuss strategy,? I said. ?Looks like you?ve come up with a plan all by yourself.?
?I?m going to go in,? she said.
A whisky appeared at my elbow. I took it without even looking: right then, the sight of the waiter?s eager puppy face would just have screwed up my mood even further.
?Go in where, exactly?? I asked, although I had a pretty good inkling already.
?I?m going to treat St. Michael?s Church as if it were a living thing,?
