Prologue

1142 Words
Prologue Will Gordon’s cell phone rang, and for a second or two, he contemplated ignoring the call and letting it go to voicemail. The Adult Children of Alcoholics meeting that All Saints Church was hosting would begin in less than fifteen minutes, and he still needed to leave his office and head over to the all-purpose room so he could get the chairs set up and the refreshments laid out before people started gathering. However, he figured he’d better take a look at the phone’s screen just so he could see who was calling him on Friday night, when most people in his circle knew he had a regular commitment here at the church. But a quick look told him that it was Michael Covenant calling…and Michael didn’t make phone calls just to chat. Frowning slightly, Will swiped his finger across the screen. Despite the tension he could already feel building in his body, he thought it was probably better to start out light. “Hey, Michael. How’s Tucson?” “Good,” Michael replied. He sounded tense, and Will wondered why. Michael and his girlfriend Audrey had relocated to Tucson two months earlier so she could work on getting her doctorate in parapsychology at the University of Arizona, one of the few places left in the United States where such programs were even still offered. As far as Will knew, everything had been going just fine with the couple, although he hadn’t heard from Michael recently. Since his friend didn’t seem eager to add anything to that single brief syllable, Will asked, “Everything okay?” A long pause. “I’m not sure.” Will glanced down at his watch. Seven twenty-three. While he didn’t want to be rude, he also didn’t have much time to spare. “Well, tell me about it as I’m heading out of the office. I’ve got an ACA meeting in less than ten minutes.” “Oh, hell, I’m sorry.” “Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t expect everyone to keep my calendar in their heads.” “Still hectic over there at All Saints?” “You could say that.” Will headed out of his office and shut the door behind him, then locked it. In the not-so-distant past, he wouldn’t have had to take that kind of precaution, but a few burglaries in the last several years had shown that even All Saints Episcopal Church wasn’t immune to petty crime. “One of our pastors took a position in northern California, so the rest of us have been doing double duty for a while.” He left it there; no reason to point out that he’d been happy to take on the extra workload, if for no other reason than doing so helped to camouflage the wasteland his social life had become. Something that might have been a sigh — or simply a released breath — came through the phone’s tiny speaker. “Then I kind of hate to dump anything else on you, but I don’t know who else to ask.” “You don’t need to ask anyone else. What do you need?” Another pause. Will hoped his friend wasn’t second-guessing whatever impulse had led him to make the call in the first place. They’d known each other for more than five years, their paths first crossing at a metaphysical symposium being held in downtown Los Angeles at the convention center. While they were both ordained ministers, Michael had never sought a congregation, preferring instead to use his calling to rid the world of the darker forces that lurked at its edges. Even some of Will’s fellow clergy thought Michael was a crackpot, but he knew better. His friend was one of the few holding the line against a foe most people wouldn’t even acknowledge; if Michael was calling because he needed assistance with something, then Will knew he had to offer his help, no matter what might be involved. “This Project Demon Hunters thing….” Michael began, then let the words trail off, as if he didn’t quite know where to start. Will had vaguely known about the reality TV show Michael was involved with, but he’d been busy with church activities and hadn’t been in touch with his friend while the show was shooting back in the early spring. And when Michael told him it was canceled but didn’t give any more explanation than that, Will guessed the cancellation must have had something to do with the sudden, untimely death of the show’s co-creator and producer, Colin Turner. Since Will heard nothing else on the topic from Michael — and he didn’t waste his time with the sort of celebrity gossip sites that might have continued to follow the story — he figured that was the end of it, at least as far as his friend was concerned. “What about Project Demon Hunters?” he asked. By that point, he’d arrived at the meeting room, so he shifted his phone to his other hand so he could get the keys out of his pocket and unlock the door. “It’s done, but…I don’t know. I’ve been getting a weird feeling the past few days.” Michael Covenant’s “weird feelings” weren’t usually the sort of thing you ignored. Will let himself into the meeting room and flicked on the lights, then said, “Anything more specific than that?” “Not really. Just a sort of building pressure, like storm clouds on the horizon or something.” A slight hesitation, and then Michael said, “I’m mostly worried about Rosemary.” “Who’s Rosemary?” “A friend of Audrey’s and mine. Audrey met her over the summer, and Rosemary helped me out when I was really in a bind. She’s a psychic who owns a bookstore over in Glendora.” If Michael called someone a psychic, that meant they were the real deal; he didn’t use the term lightly. “Any particular reason why you’re worried about her?” Will asked as he did his best to pull a chair off the stack against the far wall using only one hand. Good thing the Friday night ACA group was never very big — he shouldn’t have to set up more than a dozen seats at the most. “No. Like I said, it’s just a feeling. Mostly, I wanted to give you a heads-up that I’d like to give her your contact information, let her know that if she runs into anything that makes her feel hinky, she has some backup in the area.” “Of course, it’s fine if you give her my number. I’m glad to help.” “You’re sure?” “Absolutely.” Will wrestled another chair over to the small circle he was setting up in the middle of the room and sent a worried glance at the clock on the wall. Seven twenty-eight. People were going to be here at any moment. “But I have a feeling everything is going to be fine.” “I hope you’re right.” Once again, Michael paused, this time for so long, Will wondered if his friend had ended the call. But then he said, “It’s just….” “Just what?” Will asked. “Just…I can’t shake the feeling that Project Demon Hunters isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
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