Dybbuk
Chapter Twelve

Her head hurt.

Her teeth hurt, and why was she so cold?

Lina reached out for her blanket, she couldn’t find it. She just wanted to sleep a few more minutes, maybe a few more hours. Her fingers searching a little further, still no blanket. How was she supposed to sleep when she was this cold? Lina reached out a little more, it had to be here somewhere. Her sluggish fingers groped and felt about, a little further, maybe at the edge of the bed? A little further, everything was so rough. Like gravel.

Her eyes shot open.

The evening sky was above her.

She wasn’t in bed, she wasn’t even home. Lina sat up, and the rooftop spun. Her head throbbed. Lina put a hand to her mouth, trying very hard to keep her lunch from escaping.

“Careful now,” said a familiar voice from her right, “you took a nasty blow to the head.”

“Victor?” Lina touched her brow with a wince.

“As you live and breathe,” Victor said.

She wanted to smile at that, but it sounded so sad.

Victor offered a hand, probably out of habit. When Lina didn’t take it, he looked at it like it betrayed him in a small way. She knew better though, he was dead and ghosts couldn’t touch things in this life anymore. And if you happened to be a ghost that could touch things, well… it was about then that Lina usually got involved.

“Right.” Victor took back his hand and instead encouraged her to stand, “I know you’re injured, but your friends are in a great deal of danger.”

“Emmet?” Lina said, the words getting stuck on her tongue like cotton.

Victor nodded.

Lina looked around for her cell, maybe it was about time to call Wilc. Considering she’d just been brained by her own ark, a little muscle could go a long way. She should call Siobhan too. Lina couldn’t have hung up in a more dramatic way then by knockout because of a dastardly villain. Luckily, the cell was right next to her.

Unluckily, the screen was shattered.

“And this is why I can’t have nice things.” Lina muttered as she pocketed the broken cell.

So much for the muscled backup, she sighed, at least Victor could send word to Siobhan that she was okay. Lina touched her scalp again, it felt crusty and hot and she probably had a concussion. But Victor was right, both Mason and Jeri were missing.

She took a few solid breaths. “So you remember everything now?”

He nodded. “Yes, it was that blasted horn. Shook me right out of my loop.”

“Well,” Lina said from her knees, “it is a holy instrument.”

“Held by the most unholy of men,” Victor replied with disgust. “It was that antiques dealer, Emmet Weisman. It’s his fault I’m, well, never mind. You see, I am—was a jewelry broker. I often trolled local shops for their wares. They usually never know the value of items they carry.”

“What better place than the Monocle?”

“None actually,” Victor confirmed, “I should have known something was off the second I stepped in there. The place is like a maze, filled with odd bits and pieces of people’s lives. As I wandered through it all, it called to me, Lina. I swear, that little demon box whispered to me. Calling me passed the African oak desk and under a bridge of chairs until I found it. It convinced me that Emma, my daughter, would think the tune brilliant. So I took it home and I turned the crank and listened to its song. Then the dreams began.”

“You were at a masquerade?” Lina guessed. “In a mansion? Weird masks? Scary demon trying to steal your soul?”

“All the same.” Victor agreed. “It wanted my family. I said no and I fought back.”

“It looks like you fought very hard.” Lina said.

“Apparently not hard enough,” Victor shook his head, “not if that boy got involved.”

“Mmm,” She didn’t want to belittle his sacrifice, but he had a point. Still something about the comment didn’t sit right. Like a puzzle piece that looked like it should fit, but didn’t fit at all. Lina made an attempt to stand, her legs wobbled, but they held. She needed to get off this roof. They’d take the stairs, get to her Vespa and head to the Monocle. Lina headed for the door she and Jeri used.

“Wait,” a thought occurred to her while opening it. “Victor your body— dammit Jeri!”

She stared at it a second longer.

A service closet.

Jeri bent the laws of time and space, made a wormhole through Divine magics from an employee’s only door to a stupid utilities closet. Lina closed the door and opened it again. It was still a closet. No, no, no. She looked around the rooftop. No other doors led up here. How did Mason or Mr. Weismann for that matter, even get up here?

“Did you plan on riding a broom there?” Victor asked over her shoulder.

“Why does everyone think I’m a witch?” Lina ground her teeth. “I don’t use magic.”

“Not according to your shop.”

“Exactly how many times have you seen me use magic?” Lina grumbled, “And no, exorcisms don’t count.”

“What about that Hunter fellow, Jeremy was it? A few months ago when you and he—”

“Wait.” Lina could feel it, the right puzzle piece. “How long have you been at the shop?”

“Two, maybe three months?”

“And your body?” Lina nodded. “Never recovered, right? You died holding onto the music box?”

“Near as I can tell.” He sounded dubious. “Why do you ask?”

“Can you tell where it is now?” Lina asked hurriedly, and began walking a circuit around the roof. There had to be some kind of roof access. She kicked something with her boot. Lina looked down, a gleaming black rams horn. It was Jeri’s Shofar. This will help, assuming she could find someone to use it.

“Why?” Victor repeated. “My family is safe, that box is with Emmet now, probably at the Monocle. Your friends are the ones we should be concerned about.”

“Mason and his roommate, Josh,” Lina picked up the Shofar, “that’s why. You showed up in August. Remember? When the zombies were loose at the Shop? But in Siobhan’s reading, Josh received his music box in July.”

“What? No, that can’t be right.”

“I saw it.” Lina hooked the Shofar around her shoulder with its strap. “In Siobhan’s reading, I saw the boys make a bet about no nightmares for the month of July and when that didn’t work out as they planned, they dumped their music box at my shop. That was two days ago. That Nadia Goldschmidt has been working them over, slowing driving them crazy for four months. Victor, there are two dybbuk boxes.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Where is your body?”

His eyes had taken a distant look, not unlike Siobhan when reading an object.

“No. No.” He began to whisper, “It’s been moved.”

“Where?”

“The morgue.”

“And the box?”

But he didn’t answer right away. A chill worked its way over Lina. His image began to flicker.

“Victor,” Lina urged, “stay with me. I’m going to need your help, I need to know.”

“No,” Victor shook his head, “No! They were supposed to be safe! The detective, what is your Detective doing? What is he doing to my family?”

“My Detective? I don’t understand. Where is the box, Victor?”

“Stay away!” Victor’s skin paled, his veins darkening to purple and black. He faded, coming undone around the edges. “Leave them alone!”

And then he was gone.

“Victor!” Lina, ran her fingers through her hair. “Come on, this is ridiculous.”

She winced, nicking the fragile scab.

It was the least of her troubles. She was still stuck on the roof, Emmet still had Mason and Jeri and now she realized there was a second box.

And what was that stuff about her Detective?

Lina continued her circuit, made it to the lip of the building and huffed. Finally, a utility ladder, it led from the roof straight down. It was a long climb.

No helping it.

Lina started down. Once she got to her Vespa, where would she go? She couldn’t go to Ben. He was out of town, which is why Jeri was helping her in the first place. Siobhan might know, but there was no time to go to the shop and the same went for Wilc at the police station. If he was even there, she’d already left a message and he never…

Shit.

Lina stopped climbing.

Shit.

The dream. In her dream the dybbuk, a different dybbuk wanted her soul, but in exchange for Wilcs. How could she forget? It was in a dream, in her dream, and her dreams were never wrong. Ever. She began climbing faster.

Wilc was in danger. So was Victor’s family.

She made it to the bottom and ran around the building to where she’d left her Vespa.

Please let it be there. Please let it be there.

Lina rounded the corner. There it sat gleaming orange and winter green in the evening lights. At least one thing was going her way tonight. Lina kicked up the stand, got on and turned the keys. The tires skid and she took off. Not for the shop. Not the police station or even the Monocle. Jeri was a big angel. He could watch Mason and hold out for a little bit. No, Lina headed for the one place she’d find Wilc, Victor and his family.

She could feel it in her gut.

It pulled at her, whispering, yelling at her to hurry.

All she needed to do was trust to her instinto.

If Lina learned anything over the years between running the shop and performing exorcisms, it was to listen to her instinct, because it was never wrong.

Ever.

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