Dybbuk

There was a chill in the air, but the sun was out and brilliant.

It was the kind of day that Lina loved the most. So she took advantage of it, and sat on the balcony of her favorite place in all of Clarion, Haven Café.

Wilc sat across from her, a light breeze rifling his messy blond hair, which always seemed at odds with his immaculate suite and tie. The badge clipped to his belt glinted in the afternoon light and the look on his face was one of contemplation.

“Did you really have to brand me?” He finally said, rubbing his chest absentmindedly.

“Exorcism isn’t an exact science.” Lina answered, “But it still has rules. I needed a man to blow the Shofar, and since all I had was a frightened little boy, yeah. I had to brand you. Besides, you were kinda trying to kill me at the moment, it’s all I had on me.”

Wilc looked out over the iron railing and didn’t say anything. Which was okay, it’s not every day that people encountered the Weird and live to tell the tale, or even remember it.

In fact, the last thing Lina remembered was sundering the dybbuk horde and then, nothing. Not until this morning anyway, when she woke up and her mother explained she’d fainted from the strain. Wilc had come pounding on her parent’s door at three in the morning, with her cradled in his arms. Jeri and Mason in tow right behind them.

Her mother also made a point to inform her that Wilc dropped by, every day for two weeks, to see if she’d woken up. He wouldn’t take any explanations from her mother, giving the excuse that Lina promised to tell him everything over a cup of coffee.

So when she woke up, Lina called, and Wilc had picked up on the first ring.

Now they were here.

They’d been sitting like this for the past twenty minutes or so. Wilc asking questions, Lina answering them and him drifting off into a silence she couldn’t really decipher. If Wilc couldn’t come to terms with any of this, Lina might have no choice but to let Siobhan eat his memories.

And that would be a shame.

“At least you’re healing nicely.” Wilc finally said, “When you didn’t wake up after…after that whole thing went down… I didn’t think, I thought maybe you’d…”

“Why Detective Wilc,” Lina smiled, “Are you saying you would’ve missed me if I’d died? I was only asleep for two weeks, although any longer and my mother may have actually put an ad in the paper: Daughter in magically induced sleep, needed: one loves true kiss.”

Wilc frowned.

“That’s not funny Lina,” he insisted, “Some people call that being in a coma.”

“You try to sunder over a thousand displaced souls,” a new voice said. “And we’ll see how long you stay awake afterwards.” Two mugs clinked on the table, and Jeri smiled at Lina. “One soy latte, extra foam. One espresso macchiato.”

Wilc made a face, “you run out of plain coffee?”

“My coffee is never ‘plain’ good sir,” Jeri genuinely looked offended. “If you want plain coffee, I suggest you go down to Coffeebux, just down the street. Besides, turn that sour face to Lina if you’re so put out by a little foam. She’s the one who insisted you have a ‘real cup of coffee, since you’re finally on our side now.’ Her words, not mine.”

Lina’s grin grew wider as Wilc turned his sour look on her.

“Oh please,” She took a sip of her latte, “It’s still a bitter and smooth drink. It’s just a little stronger with something new added. Like you.”

“That’s one of the things I still don’t get.” Wilc eyed his drink dubiously, “I was possessed by that…”

“Dybbuk.”

“That dybbuk,” Wilc nodded, “so I get I was stronger when it was in me. But then you got rid of it and I still have this, I don’t know, superhuman strength. There are other things too. I mean, I always had great instincts about people and situations. But now it’s almost…” Wilc groped for the right word.

“Supernatural?” Lina helped.

“Yeah.”

Another sip, and Lina shrugged, “It could have left some residual gifts. It’s been known to happen. What do you think Jeri? Jeri?”

But Jeri was gone, leaving Wilc and Lina the only two people on the balcony.

“I hate it when he does that.”

Wilc brushed it off, “I caught up with Mason and he seems normal. Happy even. He checked out of Clear Water and is ready to start taking classes again. I mean, do you know how many shoe laces I’ve snapped? Coats I’ve ripped shrugging on? I’ve twisted off at least three door knobs. Not to mentions the lies I’ve caught, cases I’ve closed and confessions I got?”

Wilc shook his head and sat back.

Now it was Lina’s turn to sit contemplatively.

The dybbuk box was heavy from its burden, not materials. Lina could barely lift it, even when it rested in the ark. Not Wilc, he carried it like it was as light as a match box. Then there where the sealed doors, and the exorcism itself.

“Maybe you’re not as normal as you once thought.” Lina offered, “Maybe you’re actually are one of the Weird.”

He didn’t seem to like that answer, “what do you mean, weird?”

“Weird.” Lina repeated, emphasizing its use as a pronoun. “The Uncanny. Supernatural. Demons, Angels, ghost, fairies and everything in between. It’s what they like to call themselves. Like my family, we’ve got a dragon in the family tree. Dragons are definitely one of the Weird. Maybe you have some Weird blood in your family too?”

“The only kind of blood my family has is blue.” Wilc answered, “My father was a Detective and so was his father and his father before him.”

“You could ask.” Lina suggested.

“No, I can’t.”

Wilc didn’t offer any other explanation, and she allowed it.

Lina held her cup to her lips and noticed she was halfway through her latte, but Wilc left his untouched. She sipped anyway.

“So,” Wilc broke the silence, “Every time we bumped into each other on one of my cases, you were dealing with the, Weird?”

She tried to hide the smile at his use of the word.

“Yeah.”

“Every time?”

Lina nodded.

“The murder Siobhan might be involved in?” Wilc asked. “The murders at Beer Fest? The killer in the park that turned out to be a puma? A dead puma by the time we found it. What about Dr. Shemal?”

“No.” She said a little sadly, “Not all evils are perpetrated by the Weird.”

Wilc agreed with a nod. She moved on.

“But, the others, sure. Demons, siths and a manitcore.” Lina ticked them off on her fingers. “I sundered a group of demons that were after Siobhan. I hunted that manitcore and remember the Tuath’de’ale stand at Beef Fest? It was run by four women who liked to eat wayward men. I had help from a Hunter with that last one. He was odd for a Hunter.” She mused more to herself than anything. “Turns out he was a vampire, which is unheard in their circles. They’d probably dust him if they knew.”

“A Hunter of the Weird, who is Weird himself?”

Lina nodded, “It’s more common than you think. What makes him an odd case, is his vampirism. Mindless beasts mostly, never a good one. Not this guy though.”

“So you and this vampire, are like me?” Wilc smirked, “Do you solve supernatural murders and bring the perp to justice? Is that how you learned to shoot?”

“I don’t.” Lina replied.

“Don’t what?”

“Know how to shoot.”

Wilc winced at the memory.

“But you shot Emmet in the hand, through and through.”

“I had my eyes closed.” She shrugged. “I hate guns, they’re so loud and messy. Besides, I don’t patrol and enforce the way you’re thinking. That’s what the Hunters are for. They police the Weird. It’s almost a familial rite to take up the mantle.”

“And that’s not you?”

“No, Hunters aren’t very discriminatory.” Lina sighed, “To them all Weird need to be kept in control and closely watched. But my family knows the difference between someone who’s given into their base nature and someone who combats against it.”

“Like your vampire friend.”

“Yes, just like him.” Lina agreed, “There is a balance to all things, and not all things are black and white. There’s a lot of gray in my world and I don’t need some heavy handed Hunter to tell me the difference. Clarion is my home. I know its people, its land and it’s Weird.”

“But you don’t know me.” Wilc clasped his hands together, “Or what’s wrong with me.”

“I will, eventually.”

He hung his head, in what looked like to Lina, disappointed.

“And Wilc, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Lina smiled, “you’re just Weird.”

He scoffed, “And that’s supposes to make me feel better?”

“No,” Her smile softened, “but it is supposed to help you understand.”

Wilc looked at his untouched cup. It was filled to the brim with a delicate foam, a dot of espresso the only mark on its surface. He reached out and tapped the handle.

“Is it ever worth it?” He finally asked. “Knowing what you know? Dealing with all the things between the dark spaces? The things people do when they aren’t in control? Is it ever worth all that pain?”

Lina looked at the fading bruises and cuts on her arm. Felt the deep ache in her neck and twinge in her ankles. She thought back to the dreams and the research and work involved. Recalled the sleepless nights and network of friends and allies she constantly relied on. Wilc stared at her, his steel grey eyes still waiting, searching for—

“Miss Lina?” A boyish voice broke into her thoughts.

Wilc glanced behind him, and stilled. Lina followed his gaze.

It was Jadon, he rocked on his heels waiting to be acknowledged.

“Hey, Jadon.” Lina said with a smile, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m supposed to say ‘thank you.’”

“Oh?”

“Gran-pa said ‘to be thankful for good friends and family,’” Jadon shook his head, like he didn’t really know what it meant, but that it was something scripted and rehearsed. “he said that ‘both are hard to find and,’” he scrunched up his nose, “‘whoever counts you as either, is very lucky indeed.’”

“Your Gran-pa was a very wise man.”

Jadon nodded, “Yeah. He visits sometimes in my dreams. But he said last night was the very last time. So it was special, and that I had to thank you for him, since you were still sleeping.” Then he turned to Wilc, “He also said you’d be sitting with a smart-looking man. That you?”

Wilc hadn’t said anything since Jadon showed up.

“Oh! A badge!” Jadon pointed at Wilcs belt, “You have to be him. He said, Gran-pa said ‘it wasn’t your fault and that he forgives you, and,’” he glanced at Lina, then waved with his hand for Wilc to lean in, like this next part of it was a secret. Wilc blinked, and when Jadon waved again more impatiently, he finally leaned in, offering his ear.

Lina sat back and took a sip of her latte as the men shared secret words. Honestly, Jadon should’ve forgotten all about her, but sometimes it’s easier blurring the truth then stealing it altogether. At least, that’s what Siobhan told her.

“Jadon?” Emma’s voice drifted from somewhere inside the café. “Come on, it’s time to go, we need to go pick up Grace.”

The boy continued to whisper.

“Jadon?” Emma called again.

“Coming!” Jadon yelled. He ran off, but turned around and waved like a mad man. “Thanks again Miss Lina! Gran-pa says he misses you!”

Then he was gone and Wilc was still silent. Dumbfounded.

Wilc sat back in his seat, looked at the cup of espresso and grabbed it. He sniffed it at first, then touched it to his lips and took a sip. After a moment, he took another and huffed a small private laugh.

“What did he say?” Lina finally asked.

“To trust you.” Wilc said with that same private laugh, “You were right by the way. About the espresso, it is good. Better, even.”

“Told you.”

Wilc took another sip, “You never answered by question.”

“Which one?” Lina asked.

“About it all being worth it.”

A bubble of laughter drifted up from the street. Over the iron railing, Lina could see Emma and Jadon walking hand in hand towards their car. She thought of Mason and Josh, who won their freedom from Emmet’s madness. She thought of Victor, able to rest now with his death avenged and family safe, and smiled.

“Yes,” Lina answered, “Yes, it is. Every time.”