Dybbuk
Chapter Fifteen

Did that really happen?

Wilc looked down at his chest, his shirt torn open. The skin above his heart was throbbing and puffy. It stung like a bitch.

What did Lina do to him?

What did he do to her?

Lina rolled to her side, and slowly pushed herself up.

“Check on Emma,” she ordered.

She cradled her hand and picked something off the floor, stuffing it into her pocket.

Wilc looked around, a woman sprawled out on the floor. Dark blood crusted over her forehead and down her face. Did he do that? He put his palms over his eyes. It was so vivid, every thought and feeling. But it paled compared to the helplessness and inability to stop it all. A hand touched his shoulder, Wilc opened his eyes.

It was Lina.

The look on her face wasn’t unsympathetic, but she wasn’t spilling with empathy either. It was more a look of determination and the ability to remain unphased by even the weirdest, or most violent of situations.

He’d been wrong about her.

Very wrong.

She looked behind him and grimaced.

Wilc turned.

The children huddled deep into the love seat. The boy, Jadon held tightly to baby Grace, both staring into the fire. Beyond tears. Beyond sniffles and whimpers. This was a terror Wilc had seen few times before, when the mind buries deep within itself. To forget.

He did this to them.

Wilc stepped towards them, and they flinched.

“No,” Lina said softly. “Look to Emma. Make sure she’s breathing.”

She limped towards the kids, slowly, calmly, like approaching an abused dog. Wilc turned away and did as he was told. He felt for a pulse on Emma’s neck. It was weak, but there. What was he going to do? He should call this in and… say what?

He’d been possessed?

The Devil made him do it?

How many times had he heard that defense before? Now, Wilc could only wonder how many times that had been true.

“Lina?”

Wilc turned. A woman stood in the archway, hair loose and white as snow. She wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, in fact she seemed familiar.

“Siobhan?” Lina stood, “What are you doing here? How’d you even—”

“Your brother, he stopped by the shop for something after Victor left.”

Lina frowned, “And where’s Darius? I don’t want him—”

“Siobhan?” Wilc tested out the name. “You helped in my first case here. Wait, aren’t you a suspect in another murder case?”

“Falsely accused.” Lina defended Siobhan, “Darius?”

“Don’t worry, I left him outside.” Siobhan stepped forward, “Lina is everything over?”

“Not even.” She sounded resigned.

“What can I do?”

Lina looked at the children, taking in their silence and blank stares.

“Eat them,” Lina said.

“What? Okay.” Wilc and Siobhan said at the same time. They looked at each other. Well, she looked through him, her blind stares always a little unsettling.

Siobhan walked towards the children, Lina assuaging their fears.

“How far back?” Siobhan asked.

“To the moment Wilc arrived.” Lina turned to him, “how long ago was that?”

He shook his head, “This afternoon I think. I wasn’t really keeping time.”

Lina nodded as if it made all the sense in the world.

Siobhan sat down next to the children, reaching out tenderly, she stroked Jadon’s head. The boy relaxed a little.

“You’re not actually going to…” Wilc began to ask.

“Eat them?” Siobhan answered, “No, what do you think I am?”

He shook his head, “I don’t know anymore.”

“Please,” Lina said, “like I’d associate with a baba yaga, I thought you had more respect for me, Detective Nathanial Wilc.”

“Well, he did accuse you of murder.”

“Twice,” Lina added.

“I don’t even know what any of that means.” Wilc rubbed his face, “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry for all of it. Just, please tell me I’m not going to watch you eat these poor kids.”

“No,” Lina waved away the notion.

“Just dreams and memories.” Siobhan said. “I help them to forget the bad.”

He watched as Siobhan stroked Jadon’s hair until the boy dozed and fell asleep. Softly, she took his face in her hands and tilted it up. Siobhan opened her mouth too, she breathed out and then sucked in and from Jadon’s mouth a fibrous raw purple, string? Muscle? Ligament? Wilc didn’t know what to call it, but it slithered out of Jadon’s mouth and into Siobhan’s.

As if that wasn’t unsettling enough, Siobhan’s eyes fluttered and rolled back leaving her already blind eyes white orbs. There was a gleam and if Wilc squinted just right, he could spy a single opalescent horn curving up from the middle of her forehead.

“Neat, right?” Lina said from next to Wilc. “Come on, we have a score to settle.”

“Neat” wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe the situation. Lina started to exit the living room, when Wilc took one last look at Emma. He’d been such a fool. Wilc began to follow when he saw a glint in the firelight. It came from under the couch, Wilc crouched…No.

He snatched at the music box.

This thing caused so much grief. He stood, and made to toss it into the fire.

“No, wait.” Lina put her hand on the box. “There’s someone inside.”

“I know.” Wilc pulled it away. “That’s why it needs to burn.”

“Look,” Lina put her hand back, “There’s a lot going on here you don’t understand. But I do. I’ll gladly explain it all over a cup of coffee when this is done.”

He didn’t want to know anymore. Didn’t want any of this. He rather Siobhan siphoned out the memories. And the guilt.

“Trust me.” Lina jabbed his shoulder. “I know you’ve been through a lot and the fact that you’re even standing is a miracle. The point is this: You were possessed. Now you’re not, thanks to me. This isn’t over yet and I’m going to need your help before this night is through.”

She held her hands out, one was burned pretty badly. A matching circle to the one on his chest. It looked weepy, red and just as painful as his, yet here she was ready to take on more.

Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

Wilc held out the music box.

Lina turned the crank, and that oddly discordant music played until the lid popped open. There was a roar of wind and one more person in the room. An older man in a sweater vest and penny loafers. Wilc didn’t want to say it out loud, because then this whole crazy thing would just be a little weirder, a little more real, but standing next to them was the ghost of Victor Shaw.

“Victor.” Lina smiled and beckoned him closer.

“You did it.” The older man said.

“We did it,” she huffed out, “but it isn’t over yet. Jeri and Mason are still in trouble. I need to replace Emmet and stop all of this.”

“Emmet? Jeri?” Wilc frowned, “Are there more victims?”

But Lina wasn’t listening, not as Victor leaned in and whispered something into her ear. She looked up at Victor, and they shared a moment Wilc felt peculiar about. Like an outsider, in the way and unaware of how to help. A distant wail of sirens caught his ear.

“That’s our cue.” Lina pointed to music box in his hands. “Come on, and bring that.”

Wilc tucked the box under his arm. He looked at Siobhan, who was finishing with Grace and kneeling over Emma. “Wait, what about…”

“We really need to get going.” She said from under the archway. “I don’t think you want to be caught with that in your hand and a kidnapped family.”

Wilc stared at the box tucked close to his ribs, a music box that should have been in police custody, instead of in his hands. What other choice did he have?

He followed Lina.

“What about their memories?” He asked.

“I’m sure Sio will come up with something. She always does.”

They made it to the driveway, his Bronco still waiting. Someone rummaged through the back.

“Your Detective is smarter then he looks.” A deep voice called out. “Even under the influence.”

“He isn’t my Detective,” Lina sounded as if she’d explained that once before.

A teenager dug through the back of his Bronco, dressed in black, he completed the look with a beanie and black rimmed glasses. There was a balled up tarp on the driveway and a mint green Vespa wedged in the bed.

“Darius is stronger than he looks.” Lina said over her shoulder.

Wilc appraised her brother, at five-eleven and the build of a wrestler he’d say her brother looked plenty strong. There was definitely a familial resemblance, but where Lina was dark and slight, her brother was the exact opposite.

“Alright.” Darius shut the Bronco gate and picked up the tarp. “Your Vespa’s inside, so you were never here. I got the bloody tarp, so Emma was never here. Now you need to go, so he was never here.”

“But what are you doing here?” Wilc pointed out.

“Me?” Darius asked innocently. “My friend lives two houses over. I heard a kid scream about his mom being hurt. Tripped and hit her head when the lights went out.”

“You and Sio discuss that?” Lina pointed out.

“Yeah,” her brother smiled. “Just before she told me to take care of this and call the cops.”

“Mmm.” Lina seemed satisfied. “Wait for help. Stay out here and don’t go inside.” She said empathetically and then turned to Wilc, “You got your keys?”

Wilc patted himself down, pulling them out of his pocket.

“Good. Get in, we need to head to the Gas Light.” Lina was ordering him around again.

“Why that district?” Wilc asked. “You need something at your shop?”

“No,” She walked to the passenger side. “I have everything I need. I just really feel like antiquing.”