Counselor of the Damned (3 page)

“People’s reasoning works strangely sometimes, no?”

“True.” She heard all kinds of rationalizations and convoluted excuses in her work.

“Perhaps Father couldn’t bring himself to hate the faith he carried guilt for abandoning. I am uncertain. Parents don’t always share such things with their children. I do know his hatred for my uncle grew to include all vampires.”

“Except you?”

He hesitated. “He did love me. However, he did not accept me being a vampire. After I survived baptism, he believed one day my faith would be rewarded by my soul being returned to me.”

She refrained from saying “Aha.” Daddy issues she understood. Surprising, but then again, why should a vampire be immune to internalizing the expectations of his father? “You don’t seem to believe that’s true from what you said before. What do
you
want, Fernando? Not what you think you’re allowed to have, but what you truly want.”

He stared at her, mouth opened, and then rested his head back on the chair. “No one has ever asked. I’m not sure I know the answer.”

“That’s okay. Perhaps you can begin to think about it.”

He looked at the ceiling, remaining silent.

“Shall we move on to something else?”

He inclined his chin.

She leaned toward him, wanting to project support. “Why do you believe you’re evil?”

His eyes refocused on her. “Is it not obvious? I’m of a race forged from the unnatural splicing of demon and human.”

“Yes, you’re part demon, but you’re also part human and raised human. Does any of that count?”

“One drop of evil spoils the gene pool, I think.”

“You truly believe that’s the way Heaven works?”

He didn’t answer, but furrows appeared between his brows. He certainly had harsh standards. No wonder he tore himself apart with such turmoil.

“If you are right, Fernando, then all humans are destined for hell. None of us are pure good. That’s for the angelic Lephiri.”

Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair. Apparently, she’d succeeded in challenging his beliefs. Good. Now they’d get somewhere.

“At least humans can choose to be righteous or not,” he said.

“And you can’t?”

He shook his head.

The muscles of his jaw tightened, and his chin rose defiantly though he didn’t meet her eyes. Was he embarrassed? Hiding something? Her throat closed as she witnessed his vulnerability. She didn’t want to push him too far the first day, but she needed to understand the crux of his self-hatred.

She placed a hand over his. “Fernando. What do you have no choice about?”

His gaze met hers before dropping to her bare throat. He looked away again, but she understood. Of course, the blood drinking.

She contemplated how to proceed. The first step to guiding a client through redemption was assisting them in ceasing their unsavory activities. Usually, she dealt with satanic cults, demon summoners, and rogue witches. People who could walk away from their malevolent lifestyle. But he was right. He couldn’t stop drinking blood.

Looking at the vampire sitting so still in front of her, Tegonni saw a man who had followed his desire to be righteous for centuries even though he had the perfect excuse not to. He believed Heaven would punish him regardless, yet he had not murdered or built a human cult around himself as so many of his kind did. He was resilient and honorable, and Tegonni realized how much she wanted to help him…and feared she couldn’t.

Her chest constricted, and closing her eyes, she exhaled a forceful breath. She always felt disappointment when unable to help a client, but was usually able to accept it as an inevitable part of her job. She knew that wouldn’t be true in Fernando’s case. She couldn’t help feeling he was being unfairly judged, by Jaime and himself. He reminded her of the self-blame and hatred she’d gone through when her mother disowned her. In Mom’s eyes, no amount of Hail Marys could clean the taint of Vodoun ritual. It didn’t matter that Tegonni was a good person, just that she’d become something wicked.

“Are you well?” She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her.

“Yes. Just thinking. Drinking blood is what you can’t control and find evil?”

He maintained eye contact but his face went stony. “Yes. Don’t you?”

She groped for a supportive answer.

“Of course you think it is evil.” He smiled sadly.

She reached out a hand to placate him. “No, I—”

“The truth, Dr. Ellis, please. What do you honestly believe?”

“Well, a vampire bite does compel a person’s will.” Heaven was all about humanity’s sacred gift of free will. Taking someone’s away was worse than murder in many Lightworkers’ eyes. She thought it best not to share these thoughts.

He bowed his head as if she had just pronounced sentence on him.

Damn
. This was not going well. She did think living off human blood was evil. At least the compelling part. Too bad he couldn’t just stop until she convinced the Lephiri to get back his soul.

Wait, maybe…

“I’d like to continue meeting with you. And I would like you to try something between now and our next session if you are willing.”

He relaxed into his chair and smiled. “Homework?”

“Yep, afraid so. It may not be easy, but I think at the very least, it will put you more in control.”

His smile faded and his features turned wary. “What do you suggest?”

She hesitated, and then plunged forward. “I’d like for you to abstain from human blood and substitute animal blood.”

“You must know animal blood won’t nourish me.”

“Most animals aren’t suitable substitutes, but packs of chimpanzee blood are used to feed vampire prisoners short-term.”

His jaw sagged as he gave her a blank stare. Finally, he said, “I am unaware of Lightworkers keeping vampires jailed.”

“Uh…” She didn’t want to tell him those prisoners only had a brief stay before being executed. “Well, they are criminals.”

“I see.” He didn’t look appeased. “I assume they have broken the law as opposed to Lightworker ideals?”

“Yes, of course.” She hurried on before he could question her further. “There’ve been no problems with the chimp blood that I’ve heard of.”

“I’ve wished for such a thing.” His hands corded with tension. He shook his head. “Packaged blood, human or otherwise, lacks power. I don’t understand how it could provide sustenance.”

“I assure you it does. I keep up with several Lightworker journals including the one the bounty hunter division puts out. I believe the article I read mentioned stasis spells. Plenty of our astral mages are capable of those.”

“Ah, so without Lightworker magic, this would not be possible.” His smile returned. “You will supply me with these prison rations?”

She didn’t much like the term “prison rations.” She didn’t want him to feel they were a punishment, but she let it go. “I will get some to you weekly. Starting tonight, if I can manage it.” She’d need to pull a few favors and avoid drawing Jaime’s attention. “You’ll try it?”

“Absolutely. I’m grateful to you for providing me a tolerable solution.”

“My pleasure, Fernando. I think this is a good place to end for this evening.” Tegonni stood. Things had worked out so much better than she’d expected. His situation wasn’t nearly as hopeless as she’d thought. In fact, if the substitute blood worked out long-term, this case may turn out to be one of her easier ones.

Fernando rose and followed her to the door. “Before you leave, might I trouble you with the favor I mentioned?”

Her earlier curiosity returned. “Of course.”

“Thank you. I’d like you to pass a request on to the Lephiri on my behalf.”

Interesting
. Most clients were content to deal with the Lightworkers as the human extension of the Lephiri, finding the celestial beings intimidating. “What request?”

“I have been as faithful as I am able to Heaven. You have shown me today that perhaps I’ve done a better job than I realized.”

“I’m glad, Fernando.”

“I’d thought before to ask a concession from them, but now I believe maybe it is my right.”

She patted his arm in encouragement, happy he was being less harsh on himself.

“You asked me what I wanted, not what I think I can have. I want Heaven’s recognition. I’ve tried to be worthy even though it’s impossible. I’d like to request the honor of touching Holy Fire.”

She flinched before she could stop herself.
He still wants to die.

Fernando rushed on. “I know the fire is sacred and not used as a weapon, but I wish to touch and die by it as an act of devotion. No disrespect to the father or communion, which would also honor me, but I’d like to witness a true miracle before my death.”

Die he would if he touched Holy Fire. The sacred flame blessed believers, filling their hearts with pure divine light. Human believers. Hellspawn, it incinerated.

“Fernando—”

He took her hand. “With your gift of the packaged blood, perhaps I can face the Lephiri with something I’ve never had—a clear conscience.”

His smile shined, so hopeful and appreciative, she decided to leave things for now. With him on substitute blood, redemption through the return of his soul might be possible, and his death wish would certainly change. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to you next week.”

He bowed his thanks. “Until then, Senhorita Tegonni.”

She pulled at her hair as she walked out. He was going to be a lot of work.

Chapter Three

Sneaking into a team meeting headed by an eight-foot tall angelic being was no easy task. Tegonni hovered in the doorway until Matanji turned from the head of the conference table to draw a glyph on the presentation board.

“This symbol can be used to negate any residual satanic miasma left on your clients.” Her voice held the lilt of an Indian accent, which matched her current Hindu Goddess form. She’d clasped her lower set of arms casually behind her back. The upper pair she had raised as one emerald-hued hand wrote and the other gestured.

The Lephiri had many physical forms encompassing all religions and cultures. However, since Christian angels were a form most people related to in this part of the world, they normally appeared as such. Matanji was an exception. She chose to broaden her human underlings’ experiences by switching through her many manifestations. Tegonni, being one of the non-Christians on staff, appreciated the gesture.

She slid into a vacant chair in the back of the room next to Nat Jenson, another senior counselor and her best friend. A couple of people glanced over at her arrival, but most in the semicircle of tables and chairs didn’t notice. Nat gave her a lopsided smirk, one of his henna-bronzed cheeks dimpling. Under the table, he slipped her one of the two glossy folders in his lap. She looked over the meeting agenda and mouthed a thank-you. He winked.

Since she’d begun sessions with Fernando six weeks ago, Thursdays were blood delivery day. So, every Thursday morning, she met the supplier at his office in a Lightworker annex across town and arrived late for work. She’d feared today’s monthly meeting, normally scheduled on Wednesdays, would screw up everything. She could have the blood delivered, but Jaime would surely notice. Of course, picking it up meant she was late, and Nat, intrigued by her covert operation and always pleased to thumb his nose at Jaime, had been covering her absences.

Things had been going smoothly with Jaime none the wiser. Tegonni had ordered the packs directly from the astral mage who cast the stasis spell on them. All she’d had to do was tell him the truth: she had a client who wanted to abstain from human blood. He’d been surprised, but pleased by the idea of a vampire willingly accepting a substitute.

The Lightworker organization, being peopled by servants of Heaven, prided itself on not needing the supervisory hierarchy of normal human companies to make sure people didn’t slack off, cheat, or steal. Supervisors provided support and assigned duties. They didn’t sign off on requisition requests. Fortunately.

As long as she didn’t have the stuff brought to the office for all her colleagues to witness, and her late Thursday arrivals went unnoticed, her secret should be safe.

Thankfully, when Matanji turned from the board to face the assembled counselors, she gave no notice of Tegonni’s presence. “Of course, they must truly want redemption for the glyph to work.”

Tegonni had avoided her Lephiri mentor for six weeks. She wanted to make sure Fernando was stable on the chimp blood before presenting his case to Matanji. For redemption, not death by Holy Fire. Though he talked about cravings for human blood, he was adjusting okay. She’d approach Matanji when he’d been substituting for twelve weeks—which was one month longer than any prisoner on record.

Tegonni half listened to the information she already knew. This training session was for the junior counselors in attendance whom she and Nat supervised. She surveyed the rapt faces in the room, hypocritically pleased her staff was listening. She was thrilled to note Jaime was not in attendance. She whispered to Nat, “Where’s the boss?”

“Summoned Matanji and left to attend to other business.”

Finally relaxing, Tegonni paid attention to the rest of Matanji’s talk. By the time the meeting was over, her thoughts focused on how best to help a couple of the newer counselors who were nervous about using the glyph. Cleansing residue wasn’t dangerous but unpleasant. “They should receive supervision, or rather support, the first few times,” she told Nat as they headed toward the door.

“We can all meet with the clients here on Monday afternoon for the initial round of cleansing and both be on hand to help.”

“Tegonni, I want to speak with you.” Matanji pushed her waist-length black tresses over her shoulder. The red crop top she wore had elaborate embroidered beadwork around the bustline, the wide bottom hem just below her breasts, and all four sleeves.

Tegonni waved to Nat and waited with the green goddess as the room cleared. This graceful form of the Lephiri was quite different from her frumpier angel guise, but the same no-nonsense personality peered out through the dark eyes as she gestured for the last person to close the door behind him.