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The brows went up again. Since it was Calvin, he didn’t launch into accusatory comments right away, but only sat there and waited for me to incriminate myself.
I wouldn’t lie to him. “Actually, I went over to the house with him earlier today.”
“Selena — ”
“It was fine,” I said quickly. “I mean, the demons were at it again, but nothing really happened. Father Neil got to hear them, and he tried a few things to get them to go away.”
“Did any of it work?”
“No,” I replied before adding, “but he told me it often takes a few tries to banish demons. It’s not like spraying for ants, you know.”
“Actually, ants are pretty hard to get rid of, too,” Calvin said.
Since the corners of his mouth were quirking, I knew he was teasing me…sort of.
“True,” I said. Should I tell him I was planning to meet Father Neil at the mansion at midnight? I guessed Calvin wouldn’t be too happy to hear about that particular scheme. On the other hand, we’d promised to be honest with each other, and I didn’t think hiding things from him was a very good idea. “We’re going back to the house tonight.”
At once, his brows drew together again. “You aren’t.”
“We are. He wanted to see if there were any differences in the demons’ behavior at midnight as opposed to during the daytime.”
For a few seconds, Calvin remained silent. His long brown fingers tapped against the side of his glass, and so I had a feeling he was less than happy with me and was trying to think of the best way to tell me this midnight visit was a terrible idea and that I needed to call it off.
Finally, he said, “I really think you should let this go. I don’t want to sound callous, but the house is your parents’ problem, not yours. You’ve done what you could.”
Since that was pretty much the same thing my mother had told me, I couldn’t muster any terribly convincing arguments to counter what Calvin had just said. Honestly, I didn’t know for sure why I kept pushing so hard on this, except that I didn’t like unanswered questions, and my instincts kept telling me there was more here than met the eye.
I told him, “It’s not as if I’m going there alone.”
“You’re going with someone you just met and don’t know anything about.”
Clearly, Calvin’s experience questioning witnesses had made him very good at exposing all the weaknesses in a particular argument. I sipped some wine, trying to think of the best way to respond.
“He’s a priest,” I pointed out.
“He says he’s a priest,” Calvin countered. “Did he show you any credentials?”
“Well, no,” I admitted. “He was wearing a clerical collar, though.”
At that remark, Calvin shot me a disbelieving look, as if he couldn’t believe I could possibly be that naïve. Voice even, he said, “You can buy those online.”
Really? It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing I would have even thought of, considering my experience with members of the clergy was pretty limited. “Maybe, but Brant mentioned Neil to me before he died, although he didn’t say he was a priest. The two of them obviously knew each other, or Sasha wouldn’t have sent him down here. I suppose there’s just the faintest possibility he could be some kind of impostor, but I don’t see the point in pretending to be something he’s not. Besides, I didn’t get any bad vibes off him, or see anything in his aura that would tell me he was anything except who he claimed to be.”
Which was the truth. I hadn’t made an effort to will Father Neil’s aura into being, but I’d caught a flicker or two from it and saw only cool, reassuring blue, not the muddy orange of deception.
Calvin listened to all this, expression still skeptical, although he at least didn’t try to interrupt. When he spoke, his voice was as calm, as measured, as always. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Selena. One man has already died in that house.”
“I know,” I replied. And believe me, I did. Even though Sasha had reassured me that none of this was my fault, I knew it was going to be a while before I could shake off my lingering guilt from Brant Thoreau’s death. “That’s why I wouldn’t go there in the middle of the night if I were going alone. But Father Neil has experience with these sorts of things. It’ll be fine.”
“Maybe I should come with you,” Calvin suggested, and I shook my head.
“I’m not going to drag you out in the middle of the night for this,” I told him. “For one thing, you don’t have any experience with the supernatural — ”
“Well, except the whole coyote shifter thing,” he cut in, now looking faintly amused.
“That’s not the same,” I said severely. “That’s just part of who you are. It’s not like dealing with things that go bump in the night.”
“I wasn’t aware they were your specialty, either.”
