Terry sighed. “All right, I heard you guys talking on the plane about the FBI being after your mom’s friends. I thought I was kinda obligated to help out”
“You were eavesdropping!? Terryyyy!”
“Not deliberately Heather! I was just practicing and knocked the cover off an air vent, guess the vent acted like an amplifier, you know.”
Heather shook her head. She remembered perfectly well what she had said, and the context in which she had said it.
“Terry,” she said slowly, “if you heard me say that the FBI was after my mom’s friends, you must have heard me say more than that. Do you know what I was referring to?”
Terry nodded. “Rachel was saying that your moms were werewolves.”
The girls exchanged glances. Dita rested her hand on his shoulder, and then gave his cheek a gentle squeeze. “Terry, I don’t know what is going to happen, but whatever you do, do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Can you promise us that?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m sure I can.”
“Good. I suspect my mom’ll want to talk to you before long, but knowing this will make things dangerous for you. Can you also assure me that you won’t follow us in Ireland?”
Terry’s brow furrowed. “I can’t promise you that Dita. The whole reason I went out of my way like this was to protect you and your friends…”
“Protect us? Protect us from what Terry?? All the danger is back across the Atlantic. Well…okay, assuming that we don’t start sleeping with demonically-possessed barmaids!”
Rachel supported her friend. “Dita is right, Terry. We appreciate you showing up, and you did a wonderful thing in helping Fiona, she’s like a big sister to me. It’s just that you’d be better off sticking with your original reason for coming to Ireland. You’ve got a talent…master it.”
Terry’s face reddened in anger and embarrassment. “So what you’re saying in essence is: ‘Thanks for helping Fiona, now fuck off,’ right? Is that about it?”
Heather, Dita and Rachel looked at each other briefly and smiled back at Terry.
“Yep!”
“Thanks Terry!”
“Knew you’d understand, Terry!”
The three filed out. “See you later, Terry!!”
Befuddled, and a bit angry, he watched them leave. “Hey…” he protested lamely.
Fiona was unable to turn her head and greet Rachel and her friends as they greeted her, her neck had been weakened by the force of Terry’s blow even with her demonic regenerative power. “As far as the doctors are concerned, I just have a very severe neck sprain, and I’ll be wearing this brace for a month”
“Fiona, about the demon,’ started Rachel.
“Oh yeah, they are talking about testing me for psychosis once my neck is back where it should be. But I think you all know what the truth really is. Zirikhakza is her name and she hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s always there, manifesting whenever she pleases. I guess I’m lucky, she seems to like my body so she doesn’t change me when its likely that the host would be destroyed if she does.
“Have you thought about an exorcist?”
“You’re Heather, right? No, getting an exorcist never really crossed my mind, ‘cos I really enjoy having a succubus use my body as a crash pad. Course I’ve thought about it, until Zirikhakza flays my brain till I’m writhing on the floor in agony, and it’s pretty hard to talk to a priest when it’s all he can do to keep me from swallowing my tongue. “
Dita was intrigued. “How did she enter you? I mean I know the story, but…you’re Catholic, aren’t you?”
Fiona scoffed bitterly. “Yeah, but that doesn’t help you if you let down your guard like my cousin and I did. We pretty much gave the demonic forces an engraved invitation.” She coughed, clearing her throat. “It’s not as bad as you might think. She possesses my body, but I can also look inside her mind. It’s thousands of years of experience that I can see.”
“It’s rather addictive, isn’t it Fiona,” challenged Rachel.
“Oh, you have no idea Rachel. Whereas your friends can merely look forward to their bodies changing…every month…month after month…for the rest of their lives, the manifestation of Zirikhakza leaves me with new residual knowledge every time my body changes. Sometimes my knowledge will increase without the manifestation. There are some perks you understand, but then, since you set your aspirations no higher than the golf course, I guess you couldn’t appreciate them.”
“Do you remember what you did to Terry,” asked Dita.
“Of course. I took him inside me and assumed my demonic form.”
“…Am I speaking to Fiona or the demon?”
“Am I speaking to Dita Singer or the werewolf?”
That riposte gave Dita pause, but only briefly. “Well I guarantee you that you’re speaking to Dita Singer. As to the werewolf aspects, hell, they haven’t even materialized yet and there is some doubt that they ever will.” Heather nodded at this and Dita continued. “In any case you’re evading my question.”
Fiona found it excruciating to turn her head even a fraction of an inch, but she managed to catch Dita’s eyes with her own, and in a pained, pleading voice whispered, “I have…a very GOOD…reason...for…evading…your question!” She relaxed again, staring at the ceiling. “Girls, thank you for coming…please go.”
“Fiona, we just…”
“Please go. And Heaven help you.”
The trio grimaced and made their way out of the hospital. Heather sighed.
“So Terry knows.”
“Yep, I’m going to have to let Mom know about this.”
Rachel swallowed. “What do you think she’ll do about him?”
Dita shrugged. “Whatever she does, it’s her choice and I’ll support it. Terry was warned, your grandfather warned him.”
Heather gasped, “Dita we’ve known him most of our lives!”
“And I’m sure Mom will take that into account, but it’s her choice, we’re just obligated to let her know.”
Thursday Sept 28, 2006 Galway 7:26 PM GMT (give or take a few seconds)
“Happy Birthday Dear Dita…Happy Birthday to youuu!!!”
“What’s your pleasure, Dita?”
“Um…milk?”
Fri Sept 29, 2006 Galway 10:14 AM GMT
The three girls rode with Mary to the train station. “I think you’ll enjoy Waterford, girls. You’ll call me of course and let me know you got there safely?”
“Sure Grandma. Will you let Fiona know that we’re thinking about her?”
“I will. Heather...Dita, you’re always welcome at our home”
Dita, Heather, and Rachel hugged Mary, promising her that they would keep in touch, and boarded the train to Waterford.
“Ow, my head!” said Dita plaintively. Heather and Rachel shared a look and giggled. They had warned her not to try the Irish whisky after a few pints of Guinness and Strongbow, but she’d disregarded that advice and was paying for it.
Dita moaned. “Thanks a lot guys. Tell me Rach, what’s in Waterford, anyway…other than fancy glass?”
“Oh, I think you’ll be surprised. Cork will be even better though. After that…well, I guess it’s up to you.”
______________________________
Friday Sept 29, 2006 Pittsburgh 5:10PM EST
“Hiya big sister!!”
Seventeen year old Marco Patel greeted Wendy at the airport with a hug and kiss on her cheek. “Hi there, Skippy. Where’s Mom and Dad?”
“Ah well, they wanted to come, but they had some meeting to go to. Are you gonna be here for the whole week?”
“I’m flying back on the morning of the seventh, Skip, so you have me the whole seven days. How’s school going?”
Marco shrugged. “Other than trig, I’m doing well; those radical fractions will be the death of me.” He squeezed her wrist gently. “How about your chest?”
Wendy sighed. “I expect that it will be sore through the rest of the week, those magnum bullets really smart.”
The two siblings walked to Marco’s Toyota together. As they drove over the Monongahela River, Marco asked. “Why did the guy shoot you anyway?” He paused…”if you can answer me of course.”
“Sure, Marco. He shot me because he thought I was getting involved with the subject of our surveillance…now, as to whom those subjects were, I CANNOT tell you, but the upshot of that is that he was killed in a firefight and is now probably in a much warmer place than Indiana…or has been reincarnated as a paramecium or something.”
Marco laughed at this. “Are you going back to Indiana to stay?”
“Dunno Marc, I kind of hope so. The Bureau is giving me a month paid leave to sort things out and weigh my options. I suspect they’re going to either take me off the current case altogether...or they’ll put me in charge of it.”
“That’s my sister…in command as usual. Hey, what do you want to do t’night?”
“What, hasn’t my little brother gotten himself someone closer to his age to hang out with?”
Marco sighed in exasperation. “Yesssssssss, but I thought I’d show mercy to my poor aged sister who is less than…four hundred and fifty days to her…ewwwwwww…THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY.”
“…Smartass.”