Chapter Three
Three
“Yes,” Luke calmly answers. He crouches in front of Debra, turning her so she lies on her back.
“Why?” I breathe out. All I see is the endless black of her eyes as she sat atop me, how she growled hungry in a way that suggested I was the main course.
“You saw it.” Luke takes her pulse. “I exorcised her because she was possessed.”
“By a demon?” I ask.
He nods. “Astute observation.”
I blink at him, keeping my distance. “You don’t seem half as freaked out as I am right now.”
“I think that’s contributing to your freaking out,” he comments. Then, as if Debra weighs absolutely nothing, he scoops her into his arms. Damn, if I knew the key to getting a man to carry me like a princess was demonic possession, I might have spent more time hanging out at crossroads.
“I think my freaking out is kind of warranted,” I defend, trying to slow my racing heart.
His dress shoes crunch on the glass as he exits the horror movie scene into the untouched hall. With his elbow, he presses the elevator button. His thick dark brown brows tug together as he looks at me with regret. “I apologize. Everyone was supposed to be gone for the evening.”
I put down the salt and stapler and follow him into the elevator. “Is she dead?” I force out past the growing lump in my throat as we descend.
“Unlikely.” Luke steps out into the empty lobby and lowers Debra to the ground. His hand moves to her cheek in a gentle caress. It’s a hand I’m used to seeing sign off on customer contracts, making the unfolding sight all the stranger. He gives her a few light smacks. “Debra, can you hear me?”
Nothing. I reach for my phone to dial 911 before remembering it’s in the car. Through the glass double doors, it still runs. I could go grab it—
I leap out of my skin as Debra sits straight up with a gasp, eyes flying open. To my immense relief, they’re back to normal, though filled with confusion. Welcome to the club, sister.
“What happened?” she feebly asks with a cough.
“You took quite the spill,” Luke says, voice back to the low, even tone I’m used to, but with a caring edge. “Everyone but Brie and I had left for the day. You took the stairs and we heard a shout. I think you fell down them.”
Took the stairs. I have to hold in my scoff. I know Luke’s only been here a month, but Debra would sooner leave the office using the roof as a helicopter pad than take the stairs.
She blinks up at him, clearly thinking the same thing. “I don’t…I don’t remember.”
“I was worried about that. Looks like you got a bump on your head.” His finger traces the knot where my stapler slammed into her temple. I watch his acting in odd fascination, too stunned to speak. “Might be a good idea to pay a visit to the hospital. I’m happy to take you.”
That snaps me out of my stupor. I drop into a crouch in front of her, gently tilting her chin to face me. “I think you have a concussion.” I examine her, noting the way her eyes are struggling to focus. “You should get a CT scan, just to be sure it’s nothing more serious, like internal bleeding.”
“Oh no, that’s alright,” Debra says. With Luke’s help, she gets to her feet, though she sways. “I’ll be fine. I just need to find my keys—”
“You can’t drive,” I insist. “With a head wound like that, you’d endanger yourself. And others. Trust me, I used to be in med school. You need a scan, especially if you’re on any blood thinners.”
“You were in med school?” Luke peers at me curiously.
I ignore him, because that really doesn’t matter right now. Debra hems and haws. “My car—”
“Brie’s right,” Luke easily cuts in. “Someone can get your car over the weekend. Let me drive you home so your husband can take you to the hospital. I won’t sleep tonight otherwise.”
I follow them out the door, stopping at my humming vehicle. My keys are in my hands, but I can’t make myself get in.
Luke eases Debra into the passenger seat of his car. As he closes the door, he meets my eyes. My face must reflect how fucked up I feel inside, because he strides over. His eyes travel the length of me, snagging just slightly on my hips. “Are you alright?”
“You just exorcised my coworker,” I retort shakily. “What do you think?”
“Let me rephrase. Are you hurt?”
Oh. That’s why he was looking me over. Obviously.
I’m sore and rattled and probably going into some kind of shock because there is no way what I just saw actually happened.
He steps closer, taking up my entire field of view, thanks to his height and the broadness of his shoulders.
His hands lift like he’s going to put them on my arms to steady me like before, but they fall at his sides.
“No,” I decide. “But you are taking her home, right? I don’t know if there’s a code to this or—”
“I’m taking her home,” he confirms. “And you’re going home, too.”
“I’m going home,” I echo. He opens my door for me and I plop into the seat. Before he can close the door, my hand shoots out to stop it.
I stare up at him. Despite it not even being five yet, the sun is setting.
Under the fluorescent office lights, he’s never struck me before as intimidating.
Now, as shadows creep, I can’t help but notice how angular his features are, from his sharp cheekbones to his defined jaw.
Like mine, his eyes are brown, but with the last rays of sun at his back, they might as well be as black as Demon Debra’s.
“What was that?” The words escape fast, yet so soft he might not have heard them at all.
But from the way a muscle in his jaw feathers, he did. “My problem. Not yours.” With a double pat on the side of my door, he closes it. Through the window separating us, he says, “Go home and forget this happened. Don’t bring it up again.”
Driving in shock is not an option, but neither is driving in the dark. After convincing myself I’m totally fine, I white-knuckle the entirety of the short commute to my apartment.
· · ·
For the record, I try really hard not to think about Luke. Or Demon Debra. Or the fact that, apparently, demons are real.
I’ve said that sentence over and over through the weekend, but it has yet to ring true.
Yes, I saw Demon Debra with my own two eyeballs.
Yes, I saw Luke exorcising the fuck out of her.
No, I don’t believe it. Demons are in movies and books and video games.
They aren’t making me look bad by procrastinating on sending weekly reports on a Friday afternoon.
The internet states otherwise.
I finally crack by Saturday after watching enough Selling Sunset to confirm that if demons are real, their corporeal form must be luxury real estate agents.
The rest of the weekend is a rabbit hole of Reddit threads and glitchy lore websites and doomscrolling social media.
My algorithm spoon-feeds me content like “Real Demon Spotting at Brooklyn Bridge” and “Eldritch Monster in Pisgah National Forest.”
I stay up so late watching conspiracy-theory videos—but are they really just conspiracy theories?—that come Monday, it’s nearly impossible to keep my eyes open. By lunch, I’m ready to run to the nearest convenience mart to get a Monster Energy drink to chug when Krystal sidles up to my desk.
“You okay, angel?” She smacks her gum in a way that should be obnoxious but isn’t because she is the living embodiment of a bisexual ray of sunshine. “Your vibes are off. Rough weekend?”
I busy myself stacking envelopes so I don’t need to look her in the eye. “A bit.”
“Can’t be as rough as the Parkers’ was.” Ted sighs, inserting himself into the conversation. A full cup of water is in his hand thanks to yours truly. “Did you hear the news?”
“Oh, Amelia told me about it,” Krystal says with a frown. “Just terrible.”
“What happened?” I ask. “Who are the Parkers?”
Carol, our HR manager, who I ideally would have filed several complaints about Debra and Luke’s misconduct with this morning if each one didn’t start with so, demons are, apparently, real, rolls over from her cubicle. “The Parkers are Debra’s neighbors. That’s probably why she’s out today.”
I can’t help the jolt that goes through me at Debra’s name. “Why?” I ask, chest tight.
Carol’s milky blue eyes grow huge, the prospect of dishing office gossip too delectable an opportunity to pass up.
“The Parkers have a daughter, Poppi. She’s around your age and has had some run-ins with the police, thanks to drugs and things like that.
But she got back on track after a junkie friend of hers died.
Nothing like a fatal overdose to scare you into rehab. ”
Krystal bristles, her grip around the stapler I bashed against Debra’s head tightening.
“She was on a real rough road but had been doing better. Certainly was looking better,” Ted says to me with a wink.
I politely ignore it. “So what happened to her?”
“She’s missing,” Krystal says curtly.
“Has been since Friday night,” Ted adds. “It was all over the news. Didn’t you see?”
Sorry, Ted, I was too busy scouring the internet for everything to know about demonic possessions. “I stick to streaming services.”
“My guess is a relapse.” Carol sighs, lifting her bedazzled glasses from where they hang on a beaded chain around her neck. If Debra gives deceivingly sweet granny vibes, Carol is more of a quirky great-aunt who spends her weekends at craft shows. “Hope she shows up soon. Alive.”
With that cryptic sentiment, Carol rolls back to her cubicle. Ted knocks on the top of my desk. “News like this really rocks a small town like ours. Devastating, really. By the way, did you fax the report on Friday?”
“Fuck,” I blurt out. Ted’s eyes widen, and even Krystal shoots me a warning look, gaze darting to Luke’s closed office door.
A door that I seem to be the only one to have noticed has a different grain, just like the blinds are more eggshell than white and the glass is suspiciously smudge-free.
Luke must have spent the whole weekend cleaning everything up, and he did an unnervingly good job.
“I meant to, but—” I scramble for an excuse.
“Brie, can I see you in my office?” Luke asks, leaning against his doorway.