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Penelope’s coven was late due to the police activity around us. Michael was late, because he’s Michael. Thankfully, my dad didn’t wait around for him to show up. We loaded up Star Dancer and took her to my parents’ house, where my mom cooked Jerome’s favorite meal, lasagna, and forced us to have lunch. For someone without magical powers, she managed to whip up a batch of lasagna mighty quickly. I wondered if she’d put it together beforehand on the off chance, she’d be seeing her adopted grandson in the next couple of days.
My parents live in a big, rambling farmhouse built around the turn of the 19th century. It was purchased with the thought they’d end up with a dozen or so kids, like my dad’s brothers. However, my mortal mother decided she was done after two.
The metabolism and aging process of angels is much slower than humans. The first 16 years we age and grow like mortals, but after that, aging just seems to stop. The same will happen to Jerome, but he’ll be in his 20s before his aging process stops. Witches and wizards aren’t immortal like angels, but they don’t age like mortals, and they certainly aren’t as fragile. As long as Jerome doesn’t die by magical means, he could live to be 200-300 years old. Mixing in mortal genes doesn’t change the lifespan or immortality of supernatural beings. While I could claim to be half angel and half mortal, nearly every mortal and immortal on the planet had at least a few of each in the family.
My sister had married a wizard. He wasn’t a good wizard. He was rather stupid and slow and didn’t have much magic at his disposal. But this made my nieces part angel, part mortal, and part witch. If they have kids with mortals, and those children turn around and have kids with mortals, it will take several generations, but eventually the immortality gene they inherited from my father will be removed from the gene pool. That said, if along the way they reinfuse that immortality gene with a vampire, angel, werewolf, fairy, or other immortal being, it will take several more generations for the immortality gene to completely disappear.
Witches seemed to be transitional beings. They weren’t immortal, but they weren’t exactly mortal either. They had very long lifespans as long as nothing evil happened to them, but they would eventually die of old age. Which meant that eventually I would have to watch Jerome grow old and die.
Over lunch, Jerome and I told my parents about what happened to Bill and his family. I also spilled the beans regarding what Janet had told me about this not being an isolated event. My father rubbed his chin and then steepled his fingers like Sherlock Holmes while he stared at the table.
“I know a little bit about the other two cases,” he finally said. “They came to ask Uriel if it could be someone demonically possessed. When he told them no, they went to Remiel to get his ideas on it.”
My dad, the Archangel Raphael, has four brothers, that have jobs—Remiel, Michael, Uriel and Azrael.
Uriel and Azrael worked for the government, running the Bureau of Exorcisms. My dad was a motivational speaker. Michael was a healer and a hermit, because he was such a strong empath that being in society hurt him.
Remiel was a bit of a black sheep. He was an FBI agent who had helped found the FBI’s profiler division, worked as a profiler and led hunts for dangerous fugitives. He figured since he couldn’t be killed, he was a good candidate to go after armed and dangerous felons. Or at least that’s what he’d done up until ten years ago when he got tired of the politics of the FBI and decided to become a private investigator. Now, he mostly dealt with missing persons and insurance fraud, but he was still a good person to consult when there was a bad guy running around killing people.
“So, I should go see Uncle Remiel and get his help,” I said.
“Maybe,” my dad said.
“I don’t know, I don’t want you mixed up in a murder,” Mom said.
“Mom, I do exorcisms and deal with demons on a regular basis, murderers don’t seem like much of a stretch,” I said.
“Besides, she’s learning to use her magic,” Dad said. “She could learn to be an investigator from Remiel. Think about the expanded income options.”
My mother pursed her lips and didn’t object, but I could tell she was thinking of ways to murder my father for encouraging one of her daughters to do something that might be dangerous. My sister worked in customer service; I figured my job was a lot less dangerous than hers. Angels just make others happy. Even Nephilim like us, half-angels, just made other people happy. They were all just plain happy to be around us. We released pheromones that triggered happiness in others. Nephilim were actually very good at customer service, all except me. I was not built to listen to people complain all the time.
“There’s more to life than money, Raphael,” my mother said to my father in an icy tone that made Jerome smile. Archangels tended to horde shiny things; this meant my dad and his brothers were pretty much rolling in dough. They’d been hoarding shiny things since they came into existence and that tendency hadn’t gone away. My father still bought gold and silver. He owned a few mines of each and a few gemstone mines.
If she was going to say more, it was interrupted by a knock at the door. My father got up, stretched his wings, and walked out of the dining room to answer the door. He did not have retractable wings. The best he could do was scrunch them up. Our dining room chairs were specially built for him, as was the rest of the furniture in the house. Not having wings was one of the nice things about being a nephilim. We were rarely born with wings, which I was sure my mother appreciated as well.
“Sir, my name is Detective Johnson with the St. Louis County Sheriff’s Department. I’m here to ask you some questions about a property you own and an incident that took place near that property,” a voice said. My mother frowned and stood. I followed suit.
“Um, look, no one knows we own the property,” I heard my father say quickly.
“Is that so? Is that why your daughter told us she didn’t know who owned the vacant house next to hers?”
“Yes,” my father answered, trying to be quiet, but Jerome and I were both standing just inside the door frame to the dining room eavesdropping. “We bought it when it went on the market because my daughter has an expanding family. When we think she’s ready, we intend to tear down both houses and build a larger one for her and her son, using both lots.”
Jerome grinned at me. I didn’t have the money to tear down my house and build a new one. I probably wouldn’t for a couple of decades, since I had opened my own exorcism business. The larger hospitals in St. Louis kept an exorcist on staff, so I wasn’t exactly rolling in customers or money. I was the person you were referred to after the hospital employee failed to exorcize the demon. Unlike them, my results were guaranteed. Oddly, I had a lot of repeat business—teens seemed especially tempted to summon demons for some reason. Not just once or twice either, but over and over again.
“Why not just tell her?” the detective asked.
“You obviously don’t know my daughter. Would she appreciate it? Yes. Will she also make a big fuss over the fact that she can’t afford to tear down her house and build a new one? Definitely. Not to mention she will insist on trying to pay us back for the lot. My daughter is one of those strong, independent types, who doesn’t believe her parents should be allowed to give her expensive things like houses and a three-acre plot of land. She has adopted a young wizard with a very sick mother. She converted her garage into a lab for him, but he’s going to need a real lab before he graduates. Plus, he needs his own space; he’s a teen boy. He likes video games and loud music and sports—he needs a room he can paint and decorate his way. He needs to have a big TV so he and his friends can ruin their eyes with the aforementioned video games.”
Jerome had a 32-inch TV with two gaming consoles hooked up to it. He was also allowed to hang up posters if he wanted. I didn’t know what else my father thought a teen boy needed in his room or how big he thought he needed it to be. But apparently his room now didn’t seem up to snuff for my parents.
“I see,” the detective responded in a slow drawl, enunciating the words. “I can see where that might get a bit tricky. I have one of those daughters as well. She’s currently twelve, though.”
“They don’t get easier when they get older,” my dad sighed. “Soleil has always been a great kid and never a bit of trouble, except for her stubbornness, which she gets from her mother.”
“I’m sure Jerome and Soleil know about the intention, so we might as well give it to her for her birthday,” my mom said. “They are currently in the dining room, supposedly eating lunch, but something tells me they are most likely standing at the doorway listening to this conversation.”
“I can’t afford a bigger house,” I said, stepping into the living room. “My business is only six months old. I don’t have a steady paycheck from it yet. Where will we live for the time it takes to tear down the old houses and build the new one?”
“Soleil Burns,” the detective pronounced every syllable of my name as Jerome also stepped out. I vaguely recognized him from a case of possession I had worked when I still worked for the Bureau of Exorcisms.
“Detective Johnson, long time no see.” I smiled at him.
“When did you adopt a kid?” he asked.
“Last summer. He and his mom helped me out on a case. His mom has cancer and they’ve had no luck curing it. So, she asked if she could make me his guardian. I agreed, on the condition they both moved here with me,” I said. “Jerome, this is Detective Johnson with St. Louis County Sheriff’s office. He also dated my sister for like two weeks when they were both in their twenties.” I smiled. Jerome stepped forward and shook hands with the detective. The detective looked a little surprised; I wasn’t sure if it was because Jerome was a wizard or because he was African American.
“I’ve heard of you,” Detective Johnson said. “Janet Vincent has mentioned that one day you’ll be one of the strongest exorcists on the planet.”
“Only if he wants to be,” I said quickly. “While he’s good at it now, I want him to explore his options and see if there’s something else he enjoys more. Even if he isn’t as good at it.”
“A boy like this probably needs a well-stocked, high-tech lab for his magical work,” the detective said with a smile. “I can see why your parents want to build you a bigger house.”
“Originally, they tried to buy me one. I told them I didn’t want to move out of my neighborhood, so I guess they came up with this,” I said dryly, looking back and forth between my parents. The mystery of the abandoned house was solved. “But we’ll have to do something quicker than I can afford because the abandoned house is driving down property values for everyone.”
“Well, we were pretty sure when we pulled the property records and discovered who had bought it, there was nothing nefarious going on, but my supervisor wanted me to come check. I’ve done that, so I’ll let you get back to your lunch,” the detective said as he shook hands with my father and left. We all stared at the front door for several minutes after it shut.
“He’s kind of smarmy,” Jerome said after a little while.
“Yes, he is,” my father agreed. “What do you mean your sister dated him when she was in her twenties?”
“Exactly that,” I said. “When Helia was in her twenties, they dated for like three weeks. Nothing serious. A few dinner and movie dates and she was done. She would agree with Jerome, he’s kind of smarmy.”
“That seems to be her type,” my mom said and put her hand on Jerome’s shoulder and steered him back to the dining room. I joined them and quietly stared at my plate while eating.
“You know you have to have permission to get rid of the house and build a new one.” I said, chewing dutifully, my appetite gone.
“We have,” my dad said. “Lyzette, Bill, Lacy, all the older ones in the neighborhood know we bought it and why.”
“I heard Lyzette tell the police this morning she didn’t know,” I said.
“That’s because Lyzette is a good liar.” Mom answered. “She helped us buy it.”
“Azrael’s oldest wants to start a construction company. He’s gone to school for it now and has worked for one for the last three years. Azrael is willing to help him start. We talked to Azrael and decided we should hire him to do your house as kind of his first official contracting job.” Dad said.
“Okay, this is going to make me sound like a jerk, but I don’t trust Azrael’s kids, any of them, to build a house that won’t fall down or explode,” I said. “Especially my house. If we go ahead with this, I want a real construction company to build it. We can hire Bill’s.”
“We guessed you’d feel that way, so we already have,” Mom answered. “We actually talked to Bill about hiring him to supervise Drummond and Drummond’s work. Bill will make sure it’s all done correctly and that there are no corners cut, if we use Drummond’s company.”
“What do you want in a house?” Dad asked.
“A good-sized kitchen, a dining room, two full baths, a garage, a workspace for Jerome. A library for me. And a multi-use room for Valerie. I can tell sometimes she wants to be alone, but we don’t have that kind of space right now.”
“Okay, we were thinking four bedrooms, so each of you have a room and you still have a guest room. A workshop and a lab for Jerome, which would be separate rooms in a separate building with a fire suppression system in them, just in case. A library for you, a large living room for the family, a large kitchen because I know you cook most of your meals. And every house should have a dining room. Also, five bathrooms. One for each of the bedrooms, one for general use, and one in the detached workspace for Jerome. We can add a craft room, or multipurpose room for Valerie.” Mom said. “And brand-new appliances in the kitchen.” I was a sucker for appliances.
“That would be nice,” I said.
“For the guest bathroom a tub/shower combo, but for yours and Valerie’s bathrooms, we were going for jetted tubs and stand-alone shower stalls. Jerome’s will just have a shower stall unless he wants a tub. Walk-in closets for you and Valerie.” Dad said.
“I don’t own enough clothing to fill a walk-in closet.”
“Think of your and Valerie’s bathrooms as bathing suites. They will have dressing rooms attached to them with a walk-in closet so you can keep all your underclothing, shoes, and outer clothing in the same place. Like mine,” Mom said. I tried not to roll my eyes. My mom had a vanity with a chair and a bench in her closet. My mom wore make-up and did her hair every day. I couldn’t be bothered to do all that. My hair was wash and wear and I only wore make-up to special events.
“And a small home gym,” my dad added quickly. “If we cure Valerie, she’s going to need to get her strength back slowly and Jerome is getting to that age where he can work off some teenaged angst on a punching bag or by bench pressing. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt you to work out a little; you could stand to work on your cardio. Ensure you can outrun the possessed should the possessed zombie apocalypse happen.” One could indeed reanimate a corpse by stuffing a demon in it, and they weren’t slow zombies like on TV.
“How much?” I asked.
“For you, nothing,” Mom said. “You’re our daughter, we want to do this for you, Jerome, and Valerie. The money we spend on it doesn’t matter. It isn’t like it’s in short supply. We bought Helia her first house for a wedding present. You refused to let us do more than co-sign a car loan for you.”
“Realistically, how much? I can probably get a construction loan,” I said.
“If you get a construction loan, I’ll have to snoop through your mail until I find out who through and then I’ll go pay it off,” Dad said. I didn’t protest any more, my dad would do exactly that if I got a construction loan. I looked at Jerome.
“I guess we need to consider looking at new bedroom furniture for you,” I said.
“Nah,” Jerome answered. “I like my bed.”
“You’ll need some furniture,” Dad said. “We are adding a connected room to your bedroom that will have couches and things. We’re making it a man cave of sorts with your gaming equipment and stuff. Bedroom will have a desk, a bed, a laptop for homework, and the rest is going in the other room. Kids shouldn’t have TVs in their rooms. You’ll need stuff for the walls, and you’ll need to pick out paint and flooring stuff for the rooms. I recommend carpet in the bedroom area, but hardwood or laminate would probably be better in the gaming room so if you spill stuff on it, it won’t stain the carpet.”
“I already bought you a dorm fridge with the Chicago Bears logo on it for drinks and snacks,” my mom told him. “It has a matching microwave too.” It was possible that my parents as grandparents were slightly insane. I hadn’t been allowed to have anything more than a glass of milk in my room as a teen. Yet they were going to make it possible for Jerome to keep both drinks and food in his room.
“Soleil and mom don’t allow me to eat in my room,” Jerome said.
“Well, you have to eat meals with them, but I think it’s okay for you to have some snacks in your room. You’re a growing boy and things like pizza rolls won’t ruin your dinner or be real messy. I’ve seen your bedroom, you keep it tidy, so you won’t have glasses of orange juice growing mold in there.” I tried not to gape at my mother like a fish while she explained all the reasons, I was being unreasonable about the no food or drink in the bedroom rule.
“And it shouldn’t take more than eight weeks to build. During that time, you’ll all live here,” my dad added after my mother finished undermining all my authority as an adoptive parent. I suddenly understood why Helia said things like weekend sleepovers at Grandma and Grandpa’s were like sticking her finger in a light socket with the power on. These were not the people who had raised me.