Ex-cop, ex-husband, current PI -- usually annoyed and self-pitying.
Boston
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It's pretty much a rule that the bad things that lurk in the dark are stronger and faster than us. But Helsing's are meaner. That equalizes.
For some reason, my mind went back to Sister Joseph Michael trying to beat Physics into my head. Mass and velocity didn't help, when I fell.
It also disrupted her glamour enough to show hints of something cold & dark beneath the illusion she gave the world. Shrieking, she charged.
As I hoped, she followed. I stepped over the salt circle. She bounced back, as if she hit a wall. She let out an uneartly yowl. Yep, magic.
Keeping up a string of questions about the church to keep her looking at me and not the floor. I took the coffee and stepped away from her.
I really didn't like the look of her, but I needed to be sure. I spilled salt in a circle around me and stepped over it to get the coffee.
I nodded. "Did you say there was coffee? I could kill for some." She nodded & turned back toward the perculator. I pulled out the sea salt.
Neither of us said anything. Finally, she broke. "What brings you here? The pastor gives some wonderful sermons."
She came toward me with a cup of coffee in hand. "We haven't been introduced. I'm Suzi." She extended a hand, which I ignored. She waited.
"Sure," I gestured toward the chairs. "I'll set those up for you." While she started the coffee, I locked the door to give us some privacy.
"I haven't seen you here before. Welcome. I'm gonna set up for the coffee hour. Would you like to help?" She had a canary-fed cat's grin.
She didn't do anything, but her feral grin made me sure I was on the right track. Slipped downstairs for the coffee hour. She followed me.
No one looked better for a moment with her. They sank into their seats after she continued on to find a seat up front. I moved closer.
Something hinky about her. I keep an eye on her. She's just chatting about problems they have and telling them they can get through it.
Interesting. A perky middle-aged woman worked her way up the center aisle, chatting with fellow-congregants. You could feel their weariness.
Small congregation. Not really unexpected with the number of people that have died recently. I sat in my back and kept my eyes open.
Enough deaths in this church to get me up early on a Sunday morning. Damn it... I haven't been to church without an open bar after in years.