Counselor of the Damned Page 3

  Since she’d begun sessions with Fernando six weeks ago, Thursdays were blood delivery day. So, every Thursday morning, she met the supplier at his office in a Lightworker annex across town and arrived late for work. She’d feared today’s monthly meeting, normally scheduled on Wednesdays, would screw up everything. She could have the blood delivered, but Jaime would surely notice. Of course, picking it up meant she was late, and Nat, intrigued by her covert operation and always pleased to thumb his nose at Jaime, had been covering her absences.

  Things had been going smoothly with Jaime none the wiser. Tegonni had ordered the packs directly from the astral mage who cast the stasis spell on them. All she’d had to do was tell him the truth: she had a client who wanted to abstain from human blood. He’d been surprised, but pleased by the idea of a vampire willingly accepting a substitute.

  The Lightworker organization, being peopled by servants of Heaven, prided itself on not needing the supervisory hierarchy of normal human companies to make sure people didn’t slack off, cheat, or steal. Supervisors provided support and assigned duties. They didn’t sign off on requisition requests. Fortunately.

  As long as she didn’t have the stuff brought to the office for all her colleagues to witness, and her late Thursday arrivals went unnoticed, her secret should be safe.

  Thankfully, when Matanji turned from the board to face the assembled counselors, she gave no notice of Tegonni’s presence. “Of course, they must truly want redemption for the glyph to work.”

  Tegonni had avoided her Lephiri mentor for six weeks. She wanted to make sure Fernando was stable on the chimp blood before presenting his case to Matanji. For redemption, not death by Holy Fire. Though he talked about cravings for human blood, he was adjusting okay. She’d approach Matanji when he’d been substituting for twelve weeks—which was one month longer than any prisoner on record.

  Tegonni half listened to the information she already knew. This training session was for the junior counselors in attendance whom she and Nat supervised. She surveyed the rapt faces in the room, hypocritically pleased her staff was listening. She was thrilled to note Jaime was not in attendance. She whispered to Nat, “Where’s the boss?”

  “Summoned Matanji and left to attend to other business.”

  Finally relaxing, Tegonni paid attention to the rest of Matanji’s talk. By the time the meeting was over, her thoughts focused on how best to help a couple of the newer counselors who were nervous about using the glyph. Cleansing residue wasn’t dangerous but unpleasant. “They should receive supervision, or rather support, the first few times,” she told Nat as they headed toward the door.

  “We can all meet with the clients here on Monday afternoon for the initial round of cleansing and both be on hand to help.”

  “Tegonni, I want to speak with you.” Matanji pushed her waist-length black tresses over her shoulder. The red crop top she wore had elaborate embroidered beadwork around the bustline, the wide bottom hem just below her breasts, and all four sleeves.

  Tegonni waved to Nat and waited with the green goddess as the room cleared. This graceful form of the Lephiri was quite different from her frumpier angel guise, but the same no-nonsense personality peered out through the dark eyes as she gestured for the last person to close the door behind him.

  “Matanji, thank you for the training session. Most of the less-experienced counselors aren’t familiar with the effects of demon summoning on humans.”

  “I wish they could remain ignorant, but with the number of people involved in this case… Well, you and Nat can’t care for them all personally.”

  “And the others need to learn sometime,” Tegonni said. Matanji tended to treat them like naive children who couldn’t handle the wickedness in the world, even though dealing with evil was part of their jobs. Granted, satanic miasma—pure evil in its basest, liquid form—was not run-of-the-mill. “I think all Lightworkers should be able to expunge it from a human soul.”

  Matanji waved a hand. “Yes, of course, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about.” She gestured to a chair as she sat in the adjacent one. “I’d like a report on Fernando Amaral’s progress.”

  Tegonni froze in the act of sitting. “Uh…”

  “No deception, please. I’ve heard every one of your prayers on the subject, of course.”

  Tegonni blushed. She tried to remember what specific—or accidental—prayers she’d uttered in the past six weeks. The Lephiri heard them all and passed the information amongst themselves. From nightly prayers to vain curses to the simple and often misused “God, help me.” She remembered saying those exact words when she first decided to go behind Jaime’s back.

  Shoulders slumping, she plopped down on the chair. “Does Jaime know?”

  “I shouldn’t think so. It would never occur to her you’d ignore her orders.”

  Tegonni, surprised but relieved, sat up straighter. She had no fears the Lephiri would tell. They didn’t make a habit of using people’s prayers against them.

  “I wouldn’t assume I’d gotten away with anything were I you,” Matanji said, eyeing her like she was a naughty schoolchild. “You are being dishonest, and there will be consequences. Karma will make sure, using Jaime or another source.”

  “Of course.” She expected repercussions; she just didn’t want them to come from Jaime. The woman was arrogant and high-handed. Tegonni said a silent prayer her boss would remain ignorant, then winced as she remembered Matanji would hear it.

  The green goddess sighed. “Do you children never learn?” She waved two left hands. “Back to Mr. Amaral. He is an intriguing vampire. Even Shiva has taken an interest.”

  Tegonni tapped her folder against her leg, again going through Lephiri forms and names. “Sorry. Who?”

  “Archangel Michael.”

  The folder creased in her fisted hands. “Really? Why?” Nothing like being under the scrutiny of Heaven’s CEO.

  “A bloodborn vampire seeking to break free of its demonic nature is rare. Michael and I, however, are concerned for you.” Her expression became stern. “We do not like the idea of one of Demon Lord Paimon’s creations meeting with you. You have more to worry about than Jaime discovering your deception.”

  “I believe he’s sincere.”

  “As do we.” She placed two left hands on Tegonni’s shoulder. “But honestly, child, there is no way to break his soul from Paimon’s grip. The Demon Lord must release him, and Paimon will do no such thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “He gains power from each captive soul. None of the fallen give up an advantage easily, but as one of the least among them, he can’t afford to. Not and maintain his position.”

  “It’s only one soul. Can’t Michael bargain with him?”

  “Fernando Amaral is bloodborn and extremely old. Quite a boost for Paimon.” She squeezed Tegonni’s shoulder. “And, no, Lephiri are not permitted to bargain over souls.”

  She didn’t need to explain whom the prohibition came from. Only one entity gave the Lephiri proclamations.

  “Tegonni, redemption is not possible. Worse, he may, against his will, give in to his nature and attack you. The risk is yours to take, of course, but we don’t want to lose you. If anything happens, pray. I will then inform Jaime so that she may summon the Powers to come to your aid.”

  “I won’t need them. Thank you anyway.” The Powers were the warrior class of the Lephiri. When they were summoned, smiting followed. If she needed backup from Heaven’s heavy hitters, she supposed Jaime’s ire would be the least of her problems.

  Redemption is not possible. Tegonni blinked back tears. Her heart felt as if it were in a vise. She took a deep and steadying breath, surprised by the intensity of her sadness for Fernando. “He’d like to die by Holy Fire.”

  Matanji was silent a moment, then she squeezed Tegonni’s arm. “I suppose he deserves that much. I’ll talk to Michael.”

  Her voice wavered. “Thank you. He’ll be grateful.”

  With a soot
hing hum, the Lephiri pulled Tegonni into a hug. Two arms held her, while one hand stroked her curls and another rubbed her back. “You possess such a compassionate heart, Tegonni. I’m sure he’s more grateful for that.”

  A knock at the door was followed by the sound of it opening. “Matanji,” Nat said, “Jaime wants you to review this case file before you head out.” Ever irreverent, he made it sound like the Hindu goddess was going to jump in her car and go home. Actually, she would de-manifest, leaving this physical plane for the heavenly one.

  Tegonni gave him a tear-stained smile.

  Matanji said, “Of course. Thank you, Nat. Perhaps you can console Tegonni. She’s having difficulty with a secret case, which I’m sure you know all about.”

  He gave Matanji a charming grin as she caressed his cheek and took the folder he held out. Then he approached Tegonni with a pouty face.

  “Got found out, eh, hon?”

  She gave a weak laugh. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”

  The ever-present sparkle of mischief dimmed from his eyes. “No redemption?”

  “No chance. His Demon Lord would have to release his soul for it to be possible.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I feel like I’ve failed him.”

  “Tegonni, you know we can’t help every client. You’re usually the one telling me not to take those cases as personal failures.” There was a question in his tone, and a crease appeared between his brows as he looked at her.

  She remained silent, avoiding his eyes. If he was wondering whether she’d become over-invested in this case, he was right to. She’d been on a crusade from the start, going behind Jaime’s back when she’d never even thought to on any other issue.

  But in addition to that, within the last couple of weeks, she’d found herself captivated repeatedly by Fernando’s recounting of his life. From sheltering slaves in Brazil to escorting an elderly lady from his church to and from night services, Fernando Amaral was a noble and caring person. Witnessing his self-torment hurt her. And the thought of him succeeding in dying? Knots twisted in her stomach whenever he mentioned taking the Eucharist. She was no longer just invested in the case, but in the man too.

  She tried to hide her thoughts with a blank face as she looked up at Nat. “You’re right. It’s just that his whole situation is so unfair.”

  Nat continued to stare, and she feared her expression wasn’t as blank as she hoped. Finally, he said, “You can’t produce miracles. He is hellspawn, after all.”

  Indignation welled within her. She didn’t like hearing Fernando referred to a hellspawn. Even if the term was accurate. “Yeah, but it’s not like he’s some rampaging soul-stealer.”

  Nat flinched and drew a ward of protection in the air.

  She winced at her thoughtless words. He hated being reminded the uber-demons existed. One had brutally destroyed his lover, Ryan. Not only killed, but obliterated his soul. She rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry, Nat.”

  “No worries,” he said, with a strained smile. “Look, I’m sorry about Fernando. He deserves better.”

  Matanji looked up from the folder she’d been reading. “I wish it were up to us. “

  They were silent, and Tegonni wondered if her companions felt as weighed down as she did. Matanji was practical but fair.

  Nat’s face brightened. “I have a brilliant idea. You can’t redeem him because his soul is being held captive, but that isn’t the same as him not being worthy of redemption.”

  Tegonni turned the idea over. She hadn’t thought of the situation that way and she was sure Fernando hadn’t either. “Matanji, what would it take for him to be considered worthy?”

  “Considered worthy by whom?”

  “Please. Don’t be difficult. I’ve heard the company doctrine.”

  “‘Heaven loves everyone as they are. Redemption comes when we are able to forgive and accept ourselves,’” Nat said.

  Tegonni rolled her eyes. That wasn’t going to work for Fernando. “Matanji, I know making peace with himself is important, but what else would you require?”

  “What would I require? The process of redemption isn’t a checklist with a certificate of completion at the end. It comes when one’s soul is clear of one’s transgressions. No one can say exactly how or when that will happen.”

  “Yes, under normal circumstances. Fernando can do good deeds and self-forgiveness work for the rest of eternity and not remove the Demon Lord’s taint. He’s condemned because of Paimon. The least we can do is give him that checklist and let him know he’d earn salvation based on his actions.”

  “I agree,” Nat said. “He’s a special case. Can’t you or Michael just give him a pat on the back?”

  The goddess crossed her lower set of arms while her upper hands steepled under her chin. “I suppose I would personally be willing to judge him worthy if he stopped drinking blood. Of course, doing so would kill him as surely as the Host or Holy Fire and defeat your purpose.”

  “Stop drinking blood? Or stop compelling humans while doing it?”

  “The latter is the immoral part, but the two can’t be separated.”

  “You’re sure?” Nat asked.

  “Lephiri knowledge is vast but not limitless. Our clairvoyance doesn’t extend much past checking in on humans who pray to us. So when it comes to vampires, there’s plenty we don’t know. Still, based on what we do know about the magic and biology involved in a vampire bite, I promise you they can’t turn off the enthrallment. It’s a natural part of the feeding process.”

  “There might be an alternative. I put him on chimp blood.” Tegonni felt rather pleased with herself.

  “I know, but that was meant to be a temporary solution. It’s never been used long-term.”

  “Because the vampires consuming them were executed.” Tegonni felt a little discomforted by that fact, but they hadn’t been like Fernando. Those vampires had committed crimes, hunting and killing to feed. “The packs could work long-term. They do meet your requirement.”

  Matanji’s expression was neutral. “Indeed, yes.”

  Nat laughed and gave Tegonni a squeeze. “You clever girl. You’ve already solved the problem.”

  Tegonni’s smile faded. She hadn’t solved all the problems. After six weeks of being on rations, Fernando hadn’t wavered from his decision to die. He still believed he was evil.

  “Why are you upset, Tegonni?” Matanji asked.

  “Feeding on the substitute hasn’t seemed to change Fernando’s death plans. I hope he can acknowledge being worthy in the Lephiri’s eyes as enough when he is still struggling to accept it himself.”

  “Helping clients forgive and accept themselves is always the hardest part,” Nat said.

  The Lephiri placed two hands on Tegonni’s back. “That the vampire carries so much guilt means there is hope for him, but he must release it to find peace with himself.”

  “That’s my real work with him, isn’t it?” Tegonni walked away from Nat and Matanji. She could do this. She’d help him as she had numerous other clients. Squaring her shoulders, she faced her companions. “Well, I’m a senior redemption counselor for a reason. Should be easy.”

  Matanji and Nat regarded her with expressions she thought were meant to be encouraging. It might have been her imagination, but she thought their smiles looked forced. Hers sure was.

  Chapter Four

  Reviewing her junior counselors’ online case notes took her mind off Fernando Amaral for the rest of the morning. Most of the client files were from the West Side incident and seemed simple enough. The healing glyph would be the most difficult part, but she and Nat would oversee that.

  Two cases that one intern was working on troubled her. Melissa’s notes indicated the clients weren’t taking responsibility for their parts in the botched ritual. That could hamper the effectiveness of the glyph. She tapped the edge of her keyboard as she pondered taking the cases herself. No, she’d just assist. The young woman was capable and knew her limits. Tegonni was surprised Melissa
hadn’t come to her already.

  She reached for her phone to call the intern, but it rang first.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Ellis.”

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Ellis. This is Hanna Preston. He left me a note last night, asking me change the location of your appointment this evening.”

  So much for keeping her mind on work. Ms. Preston was Fernando’s daytime assistant. Tegonni would have preferred to keep a third party out of their communications, but Fernando could hardly talk to her when he was unconscious during the day. “I’m sure that will be fine. Where would he like to meet?”

  “St. Augustine’s. Same time. Do you need the address?”

  Tegonni changed the appointment information in her calendar. Was Fernando meeting with Father Morgan before her? Why else meet at his church? “No, thank you. I have it.”

  The line remained silent.

  “Well…goodbye.”

  “Ah, Dr. Ellis. I don’t mean to pry, but…”

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Amaral is so appreciative of your efforts, but I’m not sure he’ll be honest with you.”

  Dread sucked at Tegonni’s gut. “Oh? About?”

  “Well…”

  Tegonni clamped her lips to keep from yelling at Ms. Preston to spit it out.

  “He still craves human blood. The only difference now with the chimp blood is he feels even guiltier about it. He’s guilty of nothing. He’s a good man.”

  “I know.” Tegonni wondered at the real nature of Ms. Preston’s relationship with her boss. The woman seemed closer to him than an assistant. Her voice came out more clipped than she intended. “I hear your concern, but I can’t discuss our sessions. Even if he has.”

  “I’m not asking you to, Dr. Ellis. Just stop putting pressure on him to be something he’s not.” Tegonni crossed one arm under her breasts, silenced by the woman’s outburst. Is that what I’m doing?