Bloodline Problem (Second Update)

Damon looked utterly worn down. He sat in a cushioned chair in an office at St. Teresa’s Psychiatric Hospital, with the nun who should have left already still at his side. Anna had known about this for some time, but when she saw Sister Gabriel Rossetti standing there, she could not help losing her temper.

"Why do ordinary people like you always insist on getting involved in this?" The Daughter of the Devil sat on the sofa in the reception room with her arms folded. "We found where that nurse died, and the matter has been resolved, though the price was rather steep. My partner might even end up a drooling idiot. Sister Rossetti, Dr. Hastings, do you see? There is nothing you can do, yet you want Damon to go out and perform exorcisms for drunks, gamblers, and the parents of scum. Do you see him as a tool for spreading your faith?"

"We see him as family, Anna," Dr. Hastings said, his thick, damp lips moving. "Damon has been taking care of her lately, and she still has not awakened. Shouldn’t you shoulder some responsibility?"

Anna shrugged and looked away. "Why should I be responsible for that woman?" She raised her brows, her attitude utterly indifferent. It was her attitude toward Dr. Hastings, Damon, the nun, and herself. "Do we even have any happy memories to talk about?"

"She loves you, Anna." Damon rose to his feet, swaying as he spoke weakly. During this time, he had kept trying to exorcise his mother using the old methods, because he believed Salomon had not done what he was supposed to do. Every day after finishing his teaching duties at the university, he came to St. Teresa’s Psychiatric Hospital to stay by his mother’s side and tell the unconscious woman about the good things from the past.

Yet it had done no good at all. His mother remained immersed in sleep, and no one knew whether her soul was still inside her body. But during this time, he had also felt the warmth of Sister Gabriel Rossetti, something he had rarely experienced.

Damon stood up, closed his eyes, and pressed a hand to his forehead. Blurred patches of bright blue and yellow flickered before his eyes. Vertigo slammed violently into his brain, leaving him barely able to think. He felt as though something were gripping his mind. The headache and dizziness nearly consumed his thoughts, while whispers from nowhere occasionally intruded upon them. Had the nun not supported him in time, he might have collapsed back into his chair. When Anna saw him like this, she had just started to rise before seeming to remember something. She sat back down on the gray fabric sofa and resumed her proper coldness.

Damon sniffed—though he could not tell whether he had actually made the motion. Pain and dizziness occupied all of his attention, and his nose and lips felt numb. The symptoms resembled a cold, but they were actually the result of him overusing the magic within his body. He was still human, and the amount of magic he could command was limited. Dr. Hastings had once had doctors examine him, and he had received several injections, but none of it had worked. Only when he stopped performing exorcisms did he feel a little better.

"Perhaps you have something to say to her." Damon half-opened his eyes and spoke to his sister. "You know she loves you."

"Not me, and don’t mention her to me." Anna pulled a sheet of parchment covered in tiny writing from her handbag. "I did not come here for her. I came for you. I want you to sign this contract. Yes, his contract. Don’t try to argue. We both know what happens when people argue. The fact that he could drive out the thing you were powerless against proves enough."

"Then where is he?"

"Who knows?" Anna shrugged. "He is probably off handling his own business. Otherwise, he would not have gone from the East Coast to the West Coast. Sign it quickly, Damon. It is a standard contract, and signing it will not do you any harm. I do not want you to die."

"You work for him now?" Damon took the contract from the nun and glanced at it. He sank weakly back into the cushioned chair, preparing to pick up a fountain pen and write his name on the contract. But the nun stopped him, and Damon readily complied—the contract was written in Latin, and Sister Rossetti had received perfect marks in Latin and Ancient Greece.

"I thought you were still running your antiques business." Damon paused with the pen and looked up at his sister.

"I do not work for Salomon Damonet. This is merely a partnership. I find the devils, and he destroys them. It has only happened once, but his performance… perhaps the god you believe in is him."

"Whatever the case, do not say such things here." Damon raised the parchment. "Tell him that if he wants me to sign this contract, then our mother…"

Anna tilted her head back and let out a long breath. She had never understood why her brother could be so childish and foolish, so unable to see the situation for what it was. "You have no bargaining chips, Damon." The Daughter of the Devil closed her eyes. She felt the corners of her eyes beginning to ache. Being around Damon was always exhausting, not to mention having Dr. Hastings beside them—Anna hated him most of all. In an exceedingly helpless tone, she tried to persuade him. "Before I signed the contract, he was already pointing a large-caliber pistol at me. Do you think he will show you any mercy? Listen, I know what Salomon is like. He has an extremely strong need for control when it comes to devils…"

"He cannot kill anyone here." Dr. Hastings suddenly spoke. "There are cameras everywhere."

"Do you think he cares whether there are cameras? He can absolutely fabricate an alibi!" Anna rolled her eyes at Dr. Hastings. "He wants to kill me. I have always known that, and he wants to kill you too. The only reason he has not acted is because he needs us to deal with that devil. The devil blood in our bodies belongs to that devil. He sees us as tools, and he will abandon personal feelings for the sake of his duty… not to mention this nun." She glanced at the somewhat nervous Gabrielle Rossetti. "I think he would just throw this girl back to the Vatican."

"He cannot. I will not allow that to happen!" Damon grew agitated. He waved his fists, his nostrils flaring rapidly like a bull sitting in a chair, ready to charge at an imagined enemy at any moment. If he had been wearing glasses, their lenses would surely have been covered in fog.

"Our mother… you have seen her. She cannot speak or eat now, and barely any of her soul remains! Yet all he does is bind us with one contract after another…" As Damon raised his voice, the temperature in the air rose as well. The increase was imperceptible; only Dr. Hastings had been watching the thermometer and hygrometer recently placed on the table.

Dr. Hastings was worried that Damon would suffer the same terrible episode as before—when Damon had been performing an exorcism on his mother, his eyes had suddenly burst into flame and he had become emotional, until the nun calmed him down. That was why Dr. Hastings had asked the nun to remain here: she could restrain Damon’s behavior.

"So you are going to blame the person who helped you? Wake up, Damon. No one owes you anything. Salomon helped only because I agreed to his terms! You have paid less than I have, Damon. You have no right to comment. Besides, Salomon has already done his best. Do you really think that body still contains any part of her soul? When will you abandon your childhood and face reality?"

"The reason I am angry is his arrogance toward us…"

"But he truly has that power… I am prepared to accept my nature, Damon. Whether you want to or not, I will seek revenge on that thing."

38.5 degrees. I should take sick leave tomorrow.

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