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The sun had set. There was a detective sitting in the hotel room with Jerome, my parents, my sister, my nieces, Remiel, and Gabriel. I was starting to feel like I had an entourage.
“Nick Johnson confessed to the attack on Raphael. It seems Teresa Brooks, Jerome’s aunt, heard about the killings, and she and her friend paid Johnson to plant the brimstone at Raphael’s house. They were under the impression the kids were there alone. But when they arrived, there was no one there. Nick put the brimstone in the living room in front of a fan and Ms. Brooks and her friend hid in one of the bedrooms. They intended to kidnap Jerome and take him out of the country so you couldn’t find him. She says she didn’t know her friend was a wendigo that wanted to eat him, and that she paid for the entire plan,” the detective told us.
“Shortly after Johnson’s confession, Jesse Young also confessed to multiple charges of murder. He did make a deal with a demon and he claims it made him go crazy,” the detective continued. “He even gave us the demon’s name—Mammon. Mammon got the brimstone dust for him and he had more in his house, but says it’s gone missing. Which fits with Nick Johnson’s story. Johnson says he stole the brimstone, silver, and iron from Young.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Johnson wanted the money. They gave him $100,000 up front and promised another $100,000 after they had Jerome. Young wanted revenge, pure and simple.”
“Randomly killing supernaturals because his wife died in a car accident doesn’t sound like revenge,” I quipped.
“Oh, and it wasn’t him who threw the Molotov cocktail into your house,” the detective looked at Jerome. “According to Johnson, that was part of what he was paid to do. It was supposed to scare Valerie into moving back to Chicago and appointing her sister Jerome’s guardian. He didn’t know Valerie was at your house; he says he thought she had left.”
“Do you believe him?” Jerome asked.
“Frankly, no.” The detective frowned. “I think your aunt wanted her sister dead, and he’s trying to avoid murder charges by admitting to manslaughter.”
“$200,000 to kill someone seems low,” Jerome said.
“Sadly, I’ve seen people kill people for a lot less,” the detective told us.
“What’s Theresa saying about it?” I asked.
“Not much, she says it’s all your doing. She’s claiming you kidnapped her sister and her nephew and forced Valerie to sign custody of Jerome over to you. That all the video proclamations stating that she wanted you to have custody of Jerome were fabrications, created with magic.”
“They’re all batshit crazy,” Jerome suddenly spat. I heard my mom take a breath.
“Oh my, wizard, you’ve done it now,” I said, waiting for Mom to say something to him.
“You don’t believe her, do you?” Jerome asked.
“No. She’s being charged with conspiracy and kidnapping at the moment, and we have her dead to rights on that. She won’t be able to beat those charges, and she won’t be getting out of jail for a long time.”
“She sucks,” Jerome said, looking at me. “She made me an orphan and she made her own kids orphans. Their dads have never wanted anything to do with them. Their mom not being around isn’t going to change that.”
“I’ve been asked to talk to you about that,” the detective said. “We don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be housed in the same home as Jerome, but if we could house them in the same family, it would be easier on them. Under normal circumstances, we’d never dream of asking for this kind of arrangement, and you can say no. But the woman they were left with three days ago says they have to go somewhere starting today. Chicago PD is picking them up, or rather, probably already has.” He paused. “Now, this is totally up to you guys and you can tell me to shove my stupid suggestion where the sun doesn’t shine. But we thought someone in your family might want to take charge of them. I don’t think their mom knows it, but they are all part djinn.” Jerome stared at him and blinked.
“They don’t have double or triple irises,” he said.
“No, they don’t.” The detective nodded. “The police are going to do blood tests, but at this moment, being at least part djinn is the only explanation for what’s been going on with them the last three days.”
“Why djinn?” my father asked. Djinn were rarer than angels, and that was saying something.
“Because they do the same kinds of things that one would expect of a poltergeist. I guess that’s common when djinn children feel threatened.”
“It is,” Remiel said. “How many children are we talking about?”
“Three,” Jerome said. “A set of twins and a younger kid. I have nothing against my cousins.”
“We didn’t figure you did, but when they find out their mom went to prison for attacking you, they might not be too happy with you, even though it is totally their own mother’s fault.”
“We should keep them together,” my dad said.
“I love kids,” Samael said. “My two are grown and I haven’t had any luck having any more. If it’s okay with Jerome, I’m willing.”
“Really?” Jerome asked and the boy sounded the happiest he’d sounded since I arrived at the hotel that morning. “It’s okay with me. They are young, though, the oldest is only eight.”
“Excellent,” Samael replied. “But you might have to let them come over and play with Angel and ride your unicorn.”
“You got it,” Jerome said, and he smiled. Samael and the detective left shortly afterward. There would have to be a few things done besides simply going and getting the children. I curled up with my head on the arm of the sofa.
“Why were you guys upset earlier?” I asked my parents, just remembering my dad’s outburst.
“They wanted to arrest you,” my mom said.
“Me?” I asked, puzzled.
“Yes, you.” She flopped into a chair.
“Why would they want to arrest Soleil?” Jerome asked.
“For the murder of a wendigo,” my dad said. “It had to be pointed out to them that wendigos weren’t people, not by a long shot.”
“If I never meet another wendigo ever, ever, ever again, it will be too soon.” Jerome sighed.
“Me too, kiddo.”
“Jerome, about your batshit crazy comment,” my mom sighed. “I’ll let it slide this time, they were indeed batshit crazy. But if you don’t watch your mouth, you’ll also learn what dish soap tastes like. Helia and Soleil know, and both will tell you that it isn’t at all pleasant.”
“Do you think it will ever end?” Jerome asked.
“What?” Raphael said.
“People trying to take me.” Jerome answered.
“My poor, darling, wizard,” I said and turned my head to look at him. “Probably not. When they stop trying to kidnap you to use for their devious deeds, they’ll start trying to seduce you into it.”
“How did he get Helia’s blood?” I asked, suddenly remembering no one had told me yet. Helia blushed and looked at the floor.
“Blood donation?” I asked.
“No,” she said, looking grim. “Awhile back, Jim and I got into a fist fight. Jim beat me up pretty badly. Jesse Young was the officer that responded to the domestic violence call. When he and I were talking and I was giving my statement, he kept handing me tissues for my bloody lips and nose. I think he kept them. Then about a month ago, he came by my work and asked me to dinner. I agreed. Mom and Dad had the girls, so we went out, had a good time, I drank a bit too much, and we ended up back at my apartment. They found a vial of my blood with anti-coagulant in it at his house. He took it from me while I was passed out. I think he drugged me with magic.”
“Oh my!” I said.
“That is one of the dangers of dating,” Helia said to Jerome. Holy fuck, I thought. Like I don’t have enough to worry about with Jerome, now I have to worry about his future dates drugging him and stealing his blood? I had a feeling this was going to make me old, fast.
“Mommy, can we go to Grammy and Grampy’s and see Pinkie Pie?” Aurora asked. Jerome opened his mouth, then shut it. We all looked at him.
“Aurora, you really want her name to be Pinkie Pie, don’t you?” Jerome asked, but it sounded rhetorical.
“Yes, it’d be great if she had balloons on her rear end.” Aurora said and looked sad.
“Pinkie Pie isn’t a unicorn,” Ariel said.
“But she should be, and my Pinkie Pie is a unicorn.”
“I’ll make you a deal.” Jerome said, looking seriously at Aurora.
“What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
“She hasn’t been named for very long, so she doesn’t answer to it yet. We can name the unicorn Pinkie Pie, but only on one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asked, her suspicion growing.
“You tell me what you did to turn Angel white,” Jerome said.
“I didn’t,” Aurora said, looking at the floor, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.
“I think you did,” Jerome said.
“She’s scary all black,” Aurora sighed. “I really love Angel, but she scares me. Two nights ago, she came into our room to sleep and I saw her outline in the doorway and had bad dreams. So, I didn’t want her to be all black anymore. I just kissed her and hugged her, and she turned all white. Then this afternoon, she turned all different colors, but I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did, Jerome, I really don’t.”
“That’s okay, she looks better with spots,” Jerome said.
“She looks like a giant Dalmatian with weird spots,” Gabriel chirped. At least she isn’t polka-dotted and doesn’t have a rainbow on her hind end, I thought in my head. Aurora was five, after all, and one of the My Little Ponies did have a rainbow on their hindquarters. I looked at Angel. And realized her spots were little hearts. Holy fuck. My hellhound had heart spots on it.