Page 67 of Rekindled Prophecy

The Aftermath

Sofia’s Apartment

With Olivier’s departure, the surrounding air returned to hot and miserably humid. Sweat broke out all over Greylyn’s body as she rushed to Jasper’s side.

“Wake up, wake up!” Shaking him violently, his eyes slowly blinked open. The others took a little longer to come around.

“What the hell?” was all Jasper could say.

Looking around at the now vacant neighborhood streets, Greylyn confirmed that every last demonic creature was gone. Not one remained. Even the illusive shadow creatures had vanished. The streets were empty. The streetlights buzzed back to life and crickets chirped once again.

Reassured that Jasper was not permanently damaged, she had to take a moment to gather her wits. The whole experience had been surreal and terrifying. Now that it was over, her stomach roiled. Hands on her knees, Greylyn took several deep breaths to ease the nausea. The cut on her hand had sealed shut, but still burned. She suspected there would be a scar to mark her deal with the devil. No angelic healing would cure that.

She turned to stare at the building. The evil energy that surrounded it slowly dissipated as the blackness faded back to the electric blue force field Sofia had put in place. The foyer light fixture began to hum as it returned to life. She pushed the heavy door open as if it weighed nothing, and then sprinted up the stairs to Sofia’s apartment. Along the way there were sounds from the residents of other apartments. She wondered if they had even noticed the demon siege or if they had been blissfully ignorant of it all.

There was no need to knock on the door; it swung open. The psychic and her friends began to slowly emerge from the back workroom. Shell-shocked expressions greeted her – some with reddened eyes and others pale as cheesecloth. Only Sofia smiled with gleaming eyes when she caught sight of Greylyn in the doorway.

Each person looked to her with a question in their eyes that did not need to be asked: “Is it all over?” That was all that was important.

She gave the biggest smile she could muster and hoped it was enough to reassure them as they filed out of the apartment and to their respective homes. All except Sofia. Surprisingly, the ordeal did not appear to have scathed the elderly woman as she softly padded into her kitchen and motioned for Greylyn to follow.

The lights flickered back on, and Sofia fired up the outdated gas stove to put a tea kettle on to boil water. She shuffled around the room, humming softly while opening and closing cupboards and arranging a small snack tray of crackers and peanut butter. She then set about cutting apple slices as if she were hosting a tea party for a friend instead of having just survived a demon siege.

Every muscle in Greylyn’s body cried out in weariness as she collapsed in a vinyl chair at the small round 1970’s style Formica-topped dinette table and laid her head down on her crossed arms. It was so quiet in the apartment now that both women jumped slightly as the kettle started to sing on the stove. They both uttered small giggles. After the events of the evening, a tea kettle seemed innocent enough.

Sofia poured the light brown liquid into tiny teacups with faded and scratched painted daisies on the sides. The two women sat silently for a few more minutes as they tentatively sipped their beverages and nibbled on the crackers. The tea was fragrant with hints of chamomile. The ritual soothed Greylyn’s frayed nerves.

How was she supposed to explain what had happened to this sweet woman? She knew the truth would be difficult to believe, if not impossible, even for a medium as powerful as Sofia. Anything less than the truth would be a disservice to her newfound friend. Besides, Greylyn knew she would understand her dilemma.

After taking another sip of her tea, she pushed her teacup aside and began her tale. “First, how are you, Sofia? Really? I am so sorry you and your friends had to endure something so awful.” Greylyn continued to explain what transpired outside the building, including Olivier’s ultimatum.

Sofia listened intently as she sipped her tea, her gaze never leaving Greylyn’s face. Deep- rooted concern showed in her weary eyes. Occasionally, she would utter a soft “tch, tch” noise or would nod or shake her head.

“And there you have it. I’m now in cahoots with a notorious fallen archangel.”

The psychic bowed her silver head as if in prayer. After a few moments, she looked back up with a smile and placed her wrinkled, arthritic hands over Greylyn’s as a sign of reassurance. “My child,” she began, “you did the only thing you could do under the circumstances. And now we know more than we did yesterday.” She absently picked at a slice of cheese while contemplating the tale. “I knew when Kelly first came into my apartment that she and the child were special but could not ascertain how or why. We can continue to work to keep them protected, but they are no longer my greatest concern. It seems that this has all been some elaborate ploy to get to you, my dear. I fear for your safety.”

Before she could respond, Jasper and his cohorts burst through the apartment door. Blood soaked their clothes and dripped onto the carpet. No deep, fatal wounds as far as Greylyn could tell, which was remarkable. The only casualty lay slain in the middle of the street in pieces. Sadly, the tall, rotund trucker turned demon hunter had hunted his last.

Now back to his full, vibrant self, Jasper stepped into the kitchen. When he saw her sitting calmly at the tiny table, he stopped in his tracks and let out a string of curses. “What the hell, Greylyn? Mon Dieu! Putain! You could’ve been …”

He caught sight of the elderly woman sitting across from her with a delicate teacup poised just inches from her face. Flashing her a contrite smile, he quickly apologized for his foul language.

Recovered from his injuries, Jasper ran over and picked up Greylyn in a bear hug then tenderly set her back down on her feet. Without letting her go he proclaimed, “That is absolutely thelasttime you charge in alone! What were you thinking? That imprisonment spell?”

Giving her a stern look, he asked the obvious. “How are you not dead?”

With a soft laugh, both women chimed in, “Sit down.” Greylyn added, “You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t calm down.”

To give the two guardians much needed time alone, Sofia escorted the wounded men towards the bathroom where she could attend to their injuries. It was best not to let more people in on this little secret.

Motioning for Jasper to join her at the table, Greylyn explained in brief detail about what had transpired. It was the talking points version, minus a few key details.

One: she did not want to completely freak him out so soon after he was almost killed by a fallen archangel.

Two: she needed time to process everything that transpired without her bestie having a full-blown fit. She had confided in Sofia because she knew the woman would not overreact and do something to make matters worse. Jasper … well, his easily inflamed temper was not what she needed to deal with at the moment.

Three: she did not want the others to overhear the particulars. Nothing good ever came of feeding the hunters’ grapevine of gossip. Best to keep the important stuff to herself for a while. She fully intended to fill in Jasper later, except possibly for the crucial part where she agreed to be Olivier’s go-to girl.

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