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I wave him off. I guess I deserved that. “Are you worried?“
He nods. “Yeah, but it’s not just that. They didn’t keep you awake last night?“
“They weren’t quiet,“ I say. They didn’t keep me up all night–I could hear them, obviously, because Trine was clearly putting on a show. “Did they annoy you?“
“No,“ he says. “No, they…“
He trails off, then takes a sip from his foam cup as he shakes his head. “It’s nothing,“ he says.
I raise my eyebrows, but he’s clearly not ready to talk about it. He continues drinking his coffee, leaning back on the chair and tilting his head up to look at the ceiling. “What do you think she’ll be like?“ he asks.
“Who?“
“Aura Dawes,“ he replies.
“Trine’s mom?“
“Yeah, I mean, I was thinking about her more like one of the foremost authors in demonology,“ he says.
I force myself not to laugh. “Sounds like she’s a better author than she is a mother.“
He grimaces. “Right,“ he says. “I’m being glib for no reason. And selfish. This is obviously hard for her.“
“It’ll be better once we get her through this.“
“You mean her possession?“
I raise my eyebrows as I look into his eyes. “I don’t know what it is,“ I say. “But whatever it is, it can’t be good. And I want to help her.“
“We all want to help her,“ he replies. “But do you think her skin sizzling to holy water was psychosomatic?“
“I think that there are lots of things that can be psychosomatic,“ I say.
He groans. “I hate it when you do that.“
I laugh that time. “I know. You’re a priest; you do it, too.“
“And I can see why people don’t like it.“
We sit there in silence for a few minutes, drinking from our coffees as he checks something on his phone. I skim the article I’m trying to read, but I’m not able to retain any information from it at all.
Luke puts his phone down on the desk and tilts his head as he looks at me. “Do you think it’ll work?“
I look up at him and shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m worried about her. I don’t think she realizes how bad this is going to get for her if we aren’t successful.“
“We have to do something. We can’t let her go back home and just live with this. It’ll…“
“Kill her eventually?“ I offer. The words make my stomach tighten, but I need to say them. I’d rather be prepared, and I want to impress the gravity of the situation upon him. Not that I think he doesn’t know. He probably knows–much better than the rest of us. He’s the only one of us who is a true believer, who is never shaken no matter what.
Not of everything people show us. Just of something being bigger than us.
He twists his lips, then shrugs his shoulders. “My concern is that she won’t take this seriously.“
“She’s taking it seriously. She wouldn’t be going to see her mother if she wasn’t. She also wants to help Tom, and probably everyone else involved, right? We couldn’t help the kid, and now…“
He nods, taking another sip of his coffee. I think he’s going to say something else, but footsteps approach us, and he tilts his head up so he can look at Misha and Trine walking toward us.
He has his arm draped lazily around her and she’s walking close to him, her long hair down in waves as her gaze scans the room around us.
