Page 6 of Wayward Daughter

The Flame got rid of ghosts with salt, burning herbs, ringing a bell, and then wiping the walls down with moon water while letting the spirit know they were dead. A lot of times, the ghost just didn’t know they were dead, and you could convince them to cross over gently because one of their loved ones had already passed.

Some of them were just dicks,, and you had to yell a lot, but if you put the salt down, you could keep them from trashing the house while you banished them, so it was less work wiping the walls down. And the homeowner didn’t get pissed their antique vase got broken, even if that thing was butt ass ugly and should have been destroyed.

Venatio Daemonum thought coming in flinging holy water on everything and screaming at them got them to cross over. Some of these ghosts were traumatized. A lot of them didn’t die of natural causes. They knew something bad had happened to them, but they didn’t know what.

Then, a bunch of stupid men came in yelling, and the ghosts started fighting, either because they were terrified they were getting attacked or they just didn’t want to leave. It got so cold in there my nipples hurt, and shit started flying. I had to clean the walls before I could cleanse the walls because the Padres didn’t stay to help.

“How’d they die? Your ghosts.”

“Most likely murdered. It wasn’t an old house. Built maybe five years ago, and there was no record of anyone dying there, but the story around town is that the previous owner was selling because his wife went missing. I heard they are back in town. The drag queens love the big one because he shares his weed and thinks getting high is spiritual.”

Ugh. The world lost the perfect himbo when that one joined the priesthood. Saul was giant and hot for a stoner. He was goofy as fuck, but he was also pretty smart. Caleb was the leader, and he had that silver fox thing going on, but he was an overbearing fuckwit who thought he knew better than me. I’d only ever heard Solomon chanting. He’d never spoken to me, but he stared. A lot.

“I’m looking into a demonic possession. Maybe they aren’t here for that.”

“The ones at the Airbnb? Absolutely not. You aren’t going anywhere near that one. I’m pulling rank.”

“Excuse you, but you trained me for this. I took on a whole vampire nest when I was seventeen.”

“And if it was vampires, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. Something weird is going on, and I don’t like it. It’s always one, maybe two demons getting out and cutting up. I started digging into the lore because I knew you were trying to get into this. I can’t find any specifics, but there’s been a few instances where a bunch of them got out.

“They might not even be in the same place. If it’s similar, they start gathering the negative elements among the supernatural community. They might still be there, and it wouldn’t be just demons there. It wouldn’t be an easy job like you’re thinking. You wouldn’t have the element of surprise if they have any shifters or vampires with them. It’s too many unknown variables for you to go anywhere near that house.”

Yeah, nope. I wasn’t going monster hunting when I didn’t know which monsters I was dealing with. I needed to ask Delilah if she knew anything about that, but she’d be sleeping right now.

And as much as they annoyed the fuck out of me, I was going to need to find my priestly nemesis and warn them so they didn’t go in blind.

I didn’t think Father Caleb was going to listen to a fucking thing I said, but I happened to know where Saul would be because the stoner priest was pretty famous in the Quarter.

My second stop of the day was to the Plot Knot. It was a bookstore and drag bar. During the day, you could grab a cocktail and buy a book from a queen. At night, there were book clubs and performances. There were apartments upstairs some of the queens lived in.

I didn’t go anywhere without Pan. I had him registered as my emotional support Hellhound, but he was also very well behaved in public, so most people didn’t mind. Everyone loved him. Even if someone didn’t like dogs, Pan was so cute when he was shifted, they usually liked him.

If the priests were in town, Saul was probably at the Plot Knot. I bought my books there, and I knew Edna Allen Hoe was trying to convince Saul to play Tequila Mockingbird. I walked in and set Pan down. I stopped and gaped.

Saul was up on stage getting his toenails painted by Edna, reading The Metamorphosis by Kafka, and smoking a joint. Except he was reading it in this deep, growly audiobook boyfriend voice. As far as performance art went, this was sexy.

“Damn, that’s hot,” Pan said.

“Doesn’t he just look like a meat sack to you?”

“A massive, blond meat sack who is very secure in his masculinity.”

Come to think of it, Pan never pissed on Saul. It was usually Caleb and Solomon. What was up with that? The traitor darted away from me, hopped straight in Saul’s lap, and curled up.

“What’s that about, traitor?”

“I don’t hate this one.”

The only man Pan didn’t hate was Rainer and apparently Saul. Saul was off limits. He was a priest. Tucked Everlasting came over to take my order. She took one look at my dog and laughed in my face.

“He has that effect on people. Apparently, dogs aren’t immune either.”

Yeah, but he was also getting my Hellhound high. Maybe that was it. Pan jumped in his lap for a second hand high. It wasn’t going to hurt him and I went through that phase in my twenties. Maybe he’d get high and piss on Saul since he hadn’t yet. I didn’t need my Hellhound getting a crush on the hot stoner priest.

“Can I get a Bloody Mary and the hot priest sent over here when he’s done with whatever that is? You can tell Edna I’m not trying to steal him. It’s business.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I don’t think a bunch of people knew they had a priest reading out loud while getting his toenails done was a fetish, but now they do. Sit back and enjoy it. Maybe get some gumbo. I’m not snatching a wig because you started something.”