Afterworld (The Orion Rezner Chronicles Book 1) Read Free Page B

thee,” the ghost of Ben Franklin said in my ear. The words pierced the veil of my temporary insanity, and I released Father Killroy, horrified by what I was doing. I looked down at the gasping Father and realized what was happening. The demon began to chuckle behind me.
    Oh, shit !
    A flash of light exploded across my vision and I hit the floor hard. Dazed, I rolled over and watched the demon stalk toward me, holding the heavy candle holder that had sent me to the floor. I tried to get up but crashed back against the nightstand, my head swimming. The room teetered like a ship on stormy waters, and I puked on the floor as if seasick.
    The possessed boy grinned at me with a bloody mouth that had bits of kitty between its teeth, and my stomach heaved again. He kicked the still-recovering father in the face, stepped over him, and grabbing a handful of my hair, hit me with a quick uppercut that sent me crashing back against the wall.
    “Would you like to see her again?” the demon jeered, tilting his head unnaturally to the right. “ He has her. You need only open yourself to Him.”
    My fury helped me recover from the blow quickly, but I still had not gotten my bearings. I swung at the demon miserably high and wide, and it grabbed me by the throat and floated upward. My head banged off of the ceiling as I clutched the floating boy’s arm, and I struggled to breathe as the supernaturally strong hands choked the life out of me.
    Father Killroy rose to his feet and hit the boy over the head, just as his mother came crashing into the room.
    The already-spooked Old Ben jumped out of his own ghostly body at her sudden violent entrance, and Trevor released me. We fell to the floor, with me landing on top, and he began to wail, “Mama!”
    His mother was suddenly possessed by maternal instinct far scarier than any demon, and sprang toward Father Killroy, slamming him against the wall. Caught up in the effects of the demon’s illusions, she screamed bloody murder and repeatedly hit the good father in the face. When he seemed out for the count, she grabbed me by the collar and belt, and flung me like a sack of rice over the bed.
    “He did things to me, Mama! Kill him, please—he is hurting me!” the demon pleaded in Trevor’s voice.
    “Die, you sick bastard, die!” she screamed.
    I got to my feet laboriously and, summoning my strength, bellowed an incantation.
    The spell hit the possessed boy, and the demon went into writhing convulsions as it fought the effects. The boy’s mother shrieked at the sight of her screaming son. She sprang from Father Killroy and charged at me with murder in her eyes. I cocked back and hit the berserk woman with an uppercut to the chin, sending her down.
    The fatigue that followed a spell such as the one I had just unleashed hit me like a ton of bricks. I sagged against the wall, spent, as Trevor’s mother dropped to the floor unconscious.
    I slid down the wall and landed on my ass, but the binding spell held the demon floating above the bed. Father Kilroy groaned and breathed heavily as blood flowed freely from his nose. He picked up his Bible and cross, and began anew his prayers in a barely audible whisper.
    The demon fought against the binding spell, chanting in a language born of hell, and began to claw at the boy’s skin. Father Killroy’s voice cracked and faltered, but he struggled on, forcing the words in a spray of bloody spittle. He bravely stepped forward and, after touching thumb to bloody mouth, reached through my binding spell and drew a cross on the boy’s forehead. I don’t know what kind of allergy demons have to the blood of holy men, but the effects were immediate. The demon arched and began to shudder. Like an electrocuted cat, it thrashed and screamed in a dozen tortured voices.
    Trevor’s mother roused and suddenly became alert to the ensuing battle. “Trevor!” she screamed.
    “Oh, shit, not again,” I heard myself say, and slowly stood for round two against mommy