Dybbuk
Chapter Sixteen

Wilc shouldn’t have been able to lift that box.

Wilc shouldn’t even be standing.

What was he?

Lina peeked at him, the dybbuk had such a hold on Wilc. She used everything bit of knowledge she had to dislodge it. Blessed oil, a prayer in Hebrew, and a brand. She had to brand the poor man to vanquish that thing inside, and he was driving. Driving! Wilc should’ve been knocked out, unresponsive and dead to the world. Even his brand was healing.

Not at all like her hand.

One more injury to add to her growing list of cuts, bruises and concussions. Lina winced, this was definitely one of the more violent cases she’s worked on.

“There’s a first-aid kit in there.” Wilc said, then reached over to his glove box and unlatched it. “You should take care of that hand.”

Wilc focused back on the road.

“Thanks.” Lina said quietly rummaging and found it behind a box of shoe covers. The kit had gauze and some balm. She looked at her hand. The ring was incomplete when her fingers spread apart, but when lined them up, side by side she had a perfect circle.

They bumped along in Wilcs Bronco, navigating the small streets of Clarion’s Gas Light District. He hadn’t said a word since they got in the car. Not that she’d know what to say to him. They’d run across each other time and time again for the past year and every time it was a test of wills. They danced and parried through their cases and every time Wilc thought she’d been the cause. Lina almost hired a lawyer.

But it’s hard to find a one that isn’t under demonic influence.

“It’s all real, isn’t it?” Wilc finally broke the silence.

Lina glanced at Wilc, he’d removed his tie. Silly as it was, it made him seem a little more human. A little more, approachable. His shirt was still unbuttoned though, and Siobhan’s descriptor for Wilc drifted into her mind…distracting.

“Ghosts? Demons?” He listed them, when she didn’t answer. “And you’re what, a witch?”

“Exorcist,” Lina corrected, “Not a witch.”

“But the things I saw you do—”

“I was speaking Hebrew.” Lina offered, “Psalms ninety-one if you really want to know. Dybbuks don’t like to be reminded of what they’ve turned into. Most poltergeist don’t.”

“Like the movie?”

“No, those were righteously angry.” Lina winced as she wrapped her hand, “People desecrated a resting place and the spirits were right to act out. I wouldn’t have let it get that bad, though. I would have handled it totally different.”

Wilc huffed a laugh that Lina could only qualify as disbelief.

The Bronco slowed and rumbled to a stop.

“The Monocle’s a block away.” Wilc turned to face Lina, “So what’re we up against?”

“A Jewish Mystic, I think.” Lina finished the wrap on her hand.

“I don’t know which is more unsettling. ‘Jewish Mystic’ or ‘I think.’” Wilc thought for a second, “Emmet Weisman owns that place, right?”

Lina nodded, “Jeri didn’t sound too happy I’d gone to Emmet for help instead of him.”

“Jeri?”

“Yeah,” Lina unbuckled her seat belt, “He co-owns Haven. You know, tall guy, purple undercut? He gives you that cup of tar you call ‘coffee.’ But to me, he gave the gift of languages.”

“The what?”

“Gift of languages, you didn’t think I actually knew how to speak Hebrew?”

Wilc opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Lina knew she shouldn’t be throwing this much at him, but she couldn’t seem to stop the small amount of pleasure she got from seeing his overwhelmed face. She opened the door with a creak and got out. Wilc did the same and join her on the cobbled sidewalk.

“How did he give you the gift?” Wilc finally asked.

“He’s an angel.”

“Of course he is.” Wilc rubbed his eyes.

“He also made this,” Lina pulled the shofar over her shoulder. She hadn’t taken it off since Clear Water, even if she couldn’t use it. Well, that was about to change.

“A trumpet?”

“Of sorts,” She held out the gleaming horn, “you’re going to need this.”

“Me?” Wilc took the Shofar.

“Yes, you.” Lina answered and watched as he looped it over his shoulder. “It’s useless to me, only men can use it. It’s a gender thing, don’t ask why. You did ask about the plan, however, and this is it: We go to the Monocle, subdue Emmet and sunder the dybbuks with a prayer and that horn.”

“That’s it?”

“Well I think that’s a pretty good plan for a ten-minute car ride.”

“Lina, I still don’t even know what’s going on.” Wilc sounded exasperated.

“Two nights ago two boys left a music box, very similar to the one you had, at my shop.” Lina began to walk towards the Monocle. “It set off Victor, your murder vic, into a death loop and gave me nightmares. It also gave me all this lovely coloring.”

“Wait, what about the box in the Bronco?” Wilc asked as he caught up to her.

“Leave it, it’ll be harmless once we’re done.” Lina up looked at Wilc, “You wanna know what’s going on or what?”

He waved at her to continue.

So she did. Lina told Wilc about Emmet and his shifty-ness. Jeri’s help and Siobhan’s reading which revealed Josh’s fate and lead her to poor Mason. Then Jeri’s capture and Emmet’s revelation as the evil mystic behind this whole nasty dybbuk business.

“So what led you to me?” Wilc finally asked.

“Victor,” Lina said quietly as they approached the Monocle. “The crack on the head helped me realize there were two boxes out there and when Victor looked for it, he found you.”

She probably should’ve told him about the dream. The one where she fought for his soul, but she didn’t want too. Not yet, and she really couldn’t say why.

The Monocle was dark and locked.

Lina jiggled the door handle.

Wilc paced next to her, “You’re not about to—”

She went around back, and Lina could hear Wilc exhale in relief. There was no real reason to be here. Emmet could have gone anywhere, but it felt right.

The back door was already open.

“Wait,” Wilc removed an old revolver from his holster. It’s a wonder the dybbuk hadn’t made use of it.

“You really don’t like new things do you?” Lina commented.

“I like things I can rely on.” He stepped in front of her and through the door.

Lina didn’t wait long, tailing Wilc.

“I thought I told you to wait?”

“And I thought you said you liked things you can rely on.”

Wilc glanced at her, and she rewarded him with a smile. They were in a hallway that lead to two other doors. There was a plaque on one: MANAGERS OFFICE.

It was closed.

Lina took the lead.

“Stop doing that,” Wilc called out in a harsh whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Taking the lead, I’m the one with a weapon.”

“What do you think I’d be doing without you here?” Lina paused and listened at the door. She looked at Wilc, shook her head and opened the door.

It was empty.

It was a mess.

Books, paper work and even the chair had been over turned. That’s not what really caught her attention though.

“Is that really what I think it is?” Wilc asked.

“Yup,” Lina stepped over the chair and behind the desk. “That is a secret door that leads to Clarions abandoned tunnels.”

Said secret door hung wide open, a set of stairs led down. A warm breeze wafted up from the darkness.

“You’ve never been on one of the museums tours, have you?” Lina asked.

“No,” Wilc holstered his revolver. “Does everyone know about these?”

“Only the Weird.” Lina offered, “And people who like museum tours. A few doors pop up now again that I don’t know about. Like this one. Come on.”

Wilc put a hand on her shoulder, she stopped, then waved him forward. He pulled out a small flashlight from his pocket, clicking it on. Holding his revolver at the ready, he stepped down.

“Why leave such an easy trail?” Wilc tossed out.

“It’s either a trap or he doesn’t care.” Lina offered, “Maybe he thinks I died on that rooftop. Maybe he thought you were handled.”

Wilc looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“You asked.” Lina nodded forward, “Either way, he knows better now.”

“Because you saved me?”

She liked the sound of that, “yeah, because I saved you.”

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