Thankfully, the lunch rush was less of a “rush” and more of a “trickle.” Levi, thinking about the bottom line of his business, didn’t seem as thankful for that, but Frankie sure was. He was exhausted. Luckily, he only needed to carry himself up one flight of stairs to his room and then he could finally rest.
While he mostly held his own with Levi’s youth, the lack of sleep was one thing Frankie’s age couldn’t compete with. A short afternoon nap would give him the energy he knew he needed.
The thought of going to Anna’s house to ask her advice had crossed his mind, but as soon as he lay back on his bed, any thought of getting up and traveling out of town evaporated. He had the evening shift off. If he still hadn’t thought of a solution for how to deal with Hecate by then, he decided that he’d go to Anna’s and look through the magic book.
By now, she’d be another month pregnant with his father. The thought still boggled his mind, even though he understood the reasons it was possible. Either way, a pregnant woman should be exposed to as little evil—and stress—as possible. Frankie had been very protective of Marie when she was pregnant with the girls. It had seemed like in the two and a half years that she was having kids, the need to handle demonic situations had been muted. In hindsight, Frankie realized that was probably thanks to his parents, who likely took the brunt of it so that Frankie and Marie could have time to tend to their growing family.
Now that whole support system that Frankie had taken for granted was gone. First Marie, then his parents. Now even his girls. He was completely alone.
Getting tired of his spinning thoughts preventing him from sleep, Frankie sat up in bed and reached for a notepad on the bedside table. If he was going to find a way to figure out what Hecate was hiding—and stop whatever thing she was trying to get away with—he needed information. A direction and a plan of action for when he ultimately made it out of town to Anna’s and consulted The Art of Magic.
On the pad of paper, he began writing down what he knew about crossroads demons, which was what Hecate was acting as now that she had lost her power as a goddess.
They operated at night time.
They tended to target desperate people who were at rock bottom.
They always appeared at a crossroads and were usually stuck there.
They first entered the mortal world through a doorway, which is opened by someone desperate enough to summon them with a sacrificial offering of some sort—just like the box that Frankie and Levi had dug up earlier that morning.
The list continued to grow as Frankie remembered more. He began to roll his head back to stretch out the kink in his neck when he saw her standing in the corner of the room.
Marie.
His wife.
Frankie shook his head and blinked, but Marie was still there. She smiled at him.
The sight of her washed away whatever fear Frankie initially had at the presence of someone else in his small hotel room. Now, he was nearly in tears, seeing her in flesh and blood. He didn’t want to say anything to ruin the moment or make the sight of her disappear.
She was here. His sweet, beautiful wife.
Slowly, he scooted to the edge of the bed to rise, keeping his eyes locked on her at all times. He was afraid to blink, for fear that her image would disappear from existence in the split second his eyes were closed.
As he rounded the corner of the bed, he asked softly, quietly, “How are you here?”
Just as he feared, his words caused her image to fade. To disappear into the ether.
“Wait!” he called, before stopping himself. If he were too loud, someone from downstairs would come up and ask if he was okay. And this moment was too precious to interrupt.
But Marie was fading.
“Marie,” he whispered as her figure faded completely.
Frankie dropped to his knees and felt himself overcome with sobs. The mere sight of her brought a rush of emotions and memories to the surface.
And also regrets.
While his mind was filled with the images of their wedding, their daughters being born, and quiet evenings at home, he was also bombarded with questions: why couldn’t she have lived longer? Why did she have to die? Where would they be if she had lived? What if it had been him instead?
Sitting back on his heels, Frankie let the tears spill. He cast one last look to the corner where Marie had been standing, and then used the bed frame to haul himself to his feet.
Wiping away the moisture from his face, he made a decision: this moment was just for him and Marie. Maybe it had been her spirit coming to find him to tell him that everything would be okay. Maybe it was purely a figment of his imagination.
Either way, there was no way he was going to tell this to anyone.