“If you say so.”

  Yeah, definitely a superpower.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  A little after five, Katia’s phone dinged to report another exorcism, this time in Midtown. Lay Exorcist Snyder had supplied the address and nothing else, no further information as to whether this was a structural or a personal possession. With a sigh, she typed back that she’d be there in about twenty minutes.

  This time Exorcist Snyder waited for her outside the house, pacing back and forth, clutching his phone. By the time Katia joined him his call had ended. There were tears in his eyes now.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, putting her gear down. Because even if he was a jerk something was going on.

  “I . . . my daughter. She had cancer. Had cancer. The chemo worked. We just got the test results. She’s in remission. It’s all gone!”

  No wonder the tears. Katia would be blubbering by now.

  “I couldn’t be there for the tests. They were scheduled after I got here. I wanted to be back home with her, but . . . ”

  There was no one else who could take his place.

  “How old is she?” Katia asked, feeling her own emotions kick in.

  In lieu of a reply Snyder handed over his phone. The image on the screen was of a girl of about ten and she sported a huge grin. She was bald, no doubt from chemotherapy, and in her arms was an adorable Labrador puppy, all fluffy and huggable.

  “That’s Lesley. She’s our only child. And now . . . ” His voice broke.

  Katia smiled, blinking back her own tears. “And now she has a future.”

  Snyder nodded, a fat tear rolling down his cheek. “Thanks be to God.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m so sorry I was an ass during the last exorcism. I’ve never been that way before. I was so worried about Leslie, and I took it out on you. I put you in danger. That was very, very wrong. Please forgive me.”

  There had been something else going on, just as Riley had suggested. It was good she hadn’t submitted that report. She’d make sure that the revised one wouldn’t cause any problems with his bosses.

  “Your apology is accepted. I admit I was really angry at you,” she said. “But I know what it’s like to be so afraid you’ll lose someone you love. Nothing else matters at that point. Nothing.”

  He cocked his head. “Was it someone in your family?”

  “My baby brother. A demon put him in a coma for six months. He’s awake and doing great now.”

  Snyder smiled. “There is much to praise God for, isn’t there?”

  She nodded and sent another thanks to that angel who’d saved Kevin’s life.

  After finding a tissue in a pocket Snyder blew his nose, then straightened up. He glanced toward the house behind them. “Alright, let’s go do what we do best, Journeyman Breman.”

  She liked this guy more by the minute.

  “You got it, Lay Exorcist Snyder.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  It was late for supper but Beck didn’t seem to mind. He had worked his way through a full plate of Mama Z’s ribs, with all the sides, and was leaning back in the booth with a sated expression. Riley, on the other hand, had picked at her food and then offered him what she hadn’t eaten. Those ribs vanished as well. Instead of massive amounts of protein she’d opted to nibble on the potato salad and coleslaw.

  As Beck eyed her across the table, she knew questions were also on the menu. He took a long sip from his beer, set it down, then turned the bottle so the logo was facing him. He didn’t know he did that when he was uneasy about something.

  “Go on, tell me what’s on your mind,” she said.

  His deep brown eyes rose to meet hers. “The number of demons in this town keeps droppin’. Whatever’s goin’ on is gettin’ worse. I’m hearin’ that the fiends are spooked about somethin’.”

  “Something going on in Hell?” she asked.

  “Don’t think so. The problem is here.”

  “Serrah, maybe?” Perhaps Atlanta having a new guardian angel was what was making the fiends skittish.

  “Don’t think it’s her, either. What’s the angel say?”

  The angel being Ori.

  She sighed, setting her fork aside. “I hunted him down this afternoon and asked him a few questions. Did you know he likes to hang out on top of one of the skyscrapers downtown?”

  “Really?” Beck said. “Why?”

  “He tracks demons from up there. Go figure.”

  “Takes all kinds.”

  She chuckled at that. “I sent him a mental text sort of thing asking to talk to him and a few seconds later I found myself on top of that building.”

  Beck straightened up now, frowning. “What?”

  “Yeah, sixty stories up. Almost a thousand feet tall. I looked it up on the internet once I was on the ground again.”

  “Was it the buildin’ that you said looks like a pencil?”

  “No, the SunTrust one. Ori apologized for ‘the abrupt movement of my person’ as he called it. He claimed he was looking for a particular fiend and was having trouble finding it. That bothered him.” She shrugged. “So, we sat up there, him glowering down at the city, and me asking him a bunch of questions while trying not to throw up.”

  “Did he actually answer any of yer questions?” His sharp tone said that her husband wasn’t happy with his wife being spirited off by an angel. But then those two had a history of butting heads.

  She smiled at his reaction. “Sorta. Ori is as worried as we are. He insists that something has changed in the city. He asked Serrah about it, but she has no idea what’s normal for Atlanta since she hasn’t been its guardian for long.”

  “It’s odd all the time, but sometimes it’s just damned odd,” Beck replied. “Did he give you anythin’ to work with?”

  “Not really,” she replied, then began picking at her potato salad again. It was the kind she loved, all creamy with great spices, but she just couldn’t do it.

  “Riley?” he nudged.

  A shove moved her plate away. “He’s as confused as the rest of us. He insists that it has nothing to do with Hell, so that’s good news. But he can’t figure it out. I ask the guy who’s been alive forever and should have all the answers, but he’s just as clueless as anyone else. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “What about Mort?”

  “He’s still looking for the necromancer who stole those corpses. He’s checking to see if this kind of thing has happened anywhere else. So far the answer has been ‘no.’ The ability to bust someone out of their grave while inside a Holy Water circle has thrown him and Ozymandias both. They’re thinking a spell was placed inside the grave. But when? If that was the case wouldn’t Means have been snatched the first night?”

  Beck thought for a moment, then circled back around to something she’d said earlier. “What about that demon Ori was tryin’ to find so badly. Did he say why?”

  “I didn’t think to ask about it, I was starting to lose it up there. It was hard to concentrate when all I could think of was that I didn’t have a pair of wings like the guy sitting next to me.”

  “I’d be the same. I’ll call Angus tomorrow mornin’. He’s back at the manor house now so maybe he can check the records to see if this has happened anywhere else.”

  “There’s another couple problems.”

  Then she told him about Mrs. Means’ lawsuit and Rome’s latest nonsense. Both of those resulted in a swear word muttered under his breath.

  “How’s Simon handlin’ that?”

  “Katia says he’s really upset. She is too. Oh, and I taught her how to set a visualization circle today so at least she can keep them safe during the exorcisms.”

  Beck thought that through as he took a sip of his beer. “And if Rome has a problem with that?”

  “They can bitch all they want, and it won’t matter,” Riley replied. “Katia’s not an exorcist, so they have no control over what she does.”

  “And if they say that trappers can’t work with their people anymore?”

  She frowned. “Then they’ll lose Simon, for sure.”

  “Yeah, and they should if they pull that kind of crap.”

  Abruptly he rose, scooped up the check and headed for the counter to pay. Riley took one last bite of her coleslaw, then followed. Maybe tomorrow would give them some news that’d be of value. Her instincts told her they were facing something unusually nasty. Unfortunately, those instincts were rarely wrong.

  TEN

  At her master’s insistence, Katia was to take the day off unless there was an exorcism. No trapping, no paperwork at the office, none of it. Considering there were fewer demons in the city than usual, she didn’t argue. There wasn’t much to do anyway. She could hardly complain about the downtime when she’d been nagging Simon about his inability to chill out.

  By the time she crawled out of bed he was gone, which meant she’d have to wait to tell him about her training session with the Holy Water. Because this was Simon, he’d left her his itinerary for the day propped against the napkin holder on the kitchen table. Mass, then his parents’ house to help his mom in the garden, then off to the gym. It was obvious that he was trying to keep himself busy so he didn’t have to obsess about the Vatican thing. It wouldn’t work.

  Katia had just finished her breakfast when Fireman Jack’s email arrived. She quickly read it, then read it again.

  “Yes!” she shouted, executing a fist pump.

  Jack’s email said that according to Georgia law, those who sat vigil over a deceased individual were exempt from civil litigation providing their actions did not cross the line into “gross incompetence.”

  He insisted her and Riley’s actions the night of the corpse napping did not fall under that clause, and that it was best to just let this play out through the courts. Also, all legal fees incurred would be covered by the Summoners Society.

  “Thank you, Mort.” That was his doing for sure.

  She sent a quick text to Riley and a short time later she received a response which said “Told you. Now go have fun. It’s your day off.”

  With that order in mind Katia began working through her latest list of potential apartments. This was now officially An Ordeal, her brother’s favorite term when assigned tasks he despised. For him it was the Ordeal of Cleaning the Garage, or the Ordeal of Math Homework. Kevin would always finish those tasks but there was always a significant amount of complaining involved.

  The first landlord she’d called had asked what she did for living and when Katia had said, “I’m a demon trapper,” he’d hung up on her. She drew a line through that listing and moved on.

  The second landlord had asked her the same job question and this time Katia replied, “pest extermination.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. He then launched into a long monologue about how he expected to always have access to her apartment for spot inspections, any hour of the day, without any prior notice.

  “Not happening. If I rent a place, I expect privacy.”

  “Not if you rent from me.”

  “Understood.” She hung up on him.

  Landlord Number Three wanted seventeen-hundred and fifty dollars a month, utilities not included, for a one-bedroom apartment. And he wanted three months’ rent in advance, part of which was a damage deposit. That meant she’d have over five thousand dollars invested even before she moved in. She passed on that one. It appeared she’d be staying at Grand Master Stewart’s house longer than she’d planned.

  After lunch Katia dove back into the Rental Olympics. This time there was a “perfect” apartment located in a modern complex, one bedroom, one bath, parking space, community swimming pool and exercise room, all for far less than she’d expected. It just sounded too good to be true so she gave them a call.

  “You can’t afford to wait,” the lady on the other end of the line insisted. “This will go fast. If you want to hold it, I just need the first month’s rent and security deposit.”

  “I’d need to see the apartment first. Any chance I can do that today?”

  “No, it won’t be until next week. I’m not in town right now. But the deposit will hold it for you.”

  Huh? “And if I don’t like the apartment?”

  “Then I’ll refund the deposit, no problem. I just need you to fill out a form for me and email it back. Usual background check stuff, you know.”

  Which would include Katia’s birthdate and social security number.

  “No, I’d need to see the place first.”

  “You will be sorry,” the woman said. “It’s a wonderful place. Top floor in a high rise, splendid view. You can’t do any better in the Atlantic Station neighborhood.”

  “Maybe not. Anyway, thanks for your time.” Then she ended the call.

  Part of her wondered if her lack of trust was overblown. The other part said the whole conversation felt off. Trusting her instincts, she decided to move on. Then she received a text from the far-too-perky landlord.

  I’ve just had another couple interested in the apT. Send the deposit in the next 20 min & it’s yours! You won’t regret it!

  The text included photos.

  “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.” Images could be traced on the internet. “Let’s find out if I’m being paranoid.”

  Within those twenty minutes she’d been given before she lost the deal of a lifetime, Katia had sourced the apartment’s photos to a Buckhead real estate agency’s website. There was the apartment in all its glory, room after room professionally staged and looking awesome.

  But it was for sale, not for rent, and the real estate agent’s phone number wasn’t the one who offered her that wonderful “deal.”

  “Well, look at that.”

  A quick email to the agency let them know someone was running a scam on one of their properties. She included her phone number in case they wanted more information. Within minutes Katia was talking to a nice agent guy telling him where she’d found the bogus listing and the phone number of the fake landlord.

  “Maybe this time we’ll get lucky and someone will go to jail,” the man said.

  “Happy to help. Go get ’em!” There was a laugh. “Do you manage rental properties?”

  He did, but the prices he was quoting were way beyond her budget. She thanked him and gave up for the day. She’d just started researching what types of flowers could survive Georgia summers when her phone rang. It was her favorite exorcist.

  “Hey! How goes it with the gardening?” she asked.

  “That plan got bagged,” Simon said. “Mom had to cover for someone who called in sick.”

  “She’s a nurse, right?”

  “Nurse practitioner. I’m headed to the gym. I need to punch things that aren’t people. Then I’ll be going over to this new dojo that just opened. They have a longsword class there. I want to find out what it involves.”

  Longsword? “From what I’ve heard, the pointy end goes toward the other guy.”

  He laughed. “Really? So that’s what I’ve been doing wrong.”

  She returned his laugh. “Do you mind if I come up with ideas for the flower beds in your backyard?”

  A pause. “Go for it. You’re the pro.”

  “Okay, might do a few different options and get you cost estimates. Do you want any vegetables back there?”

  “No need. My mother has a huge garden, and she shares all that with the rest of us.”

  “Okay, flowers it is.”

  “Sounds good. And I know what you’re doing, trying to keep me from worrying about what’s going on with the Vatican. I owe you.”

  “Right back at you, my friend. Oh, something you should know: Riley taught me how to set a Holy Water circle using that visualization technique. Just in case we might need that or anything.”

  There was silence on the other end of the call.

  “She suggested I shouldn’t use it in front of any other exorcists, but I needed to know it for backup. Like if things go south.”

  “And she’s right,” he said. “We’ll do it the old way until we have a ruling from Rome, but knowing you can do a quick circle makes me feel a lot better. Thank you.”

  “No sweat. Now go have fun with the pounding on something that isn’t people,” she said.

  “I will. Later.” Then he ended the call.

  Sword fighting?

  The guy never ceased to amaze her. And he’d taken the news about her ability to make a circle on her own without any pushback. That was a good sign.

  Katia rose, intending on measuring the flower beds so she had a clue how much square footage was involved. That activity didn’t require a lot of brain power so she could think through all that had happened over the last two days. As she headed for the back door, her phone pinged a text from Summoner Alexander himself.

  Hi. RILEY GAVE ME your number. Is it possible for you to come to my house sometime today?

  I have things we need to discuss and i don’t want to do that on the phone or in an email.

  She tapped her chin in thought. “Hmm, let’s see. I can dig in the dirt, in the blazing heat, or hang at a necro’s house with A/C? Maybe figure out what’s going on with the stolen bodies.”

  That was a no-brainer and she let him know she’d be there in about and hour.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  The copper archway that led to Summoner Alexander’s home hummed today, a low vibratory sound that she couldn’t ignore. Its warning inscription, Momento Mori, seemed to glow like a beacon. Even Katia with her limited Latin knew what it meant. Yes, she remembered that someday she would die. Being a trapper didn’t allow you to whistle by that graveyard.

  Even as she walked under the arch the intensity of the magical buzz didn’t diminish, instead it kept zinging across her skin. She was tempted to plunge her hand into a nearby planter of colorful zinnias to offload that buzz. But with her luck someone would catch her doing it, which would require an explanation, and probably kill the flowers as well. She gulped down more air and kept moving.