Spirit Caller 01 - Spirits Rising

going to answer any more questions while his father continued to rant under his breath about his son’s eternally damned soul. Guilt pricked me. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything and e-mailed or Facebooked him later.
    “Answer her,” David said, his tone absolute.
    Tears spilled from Manny’s wide eyes.
    I could answer for him. It was the least I could do. “Corporal, Manny was afraid the Mounties would call his parents and tell them he was drinking in the basement. So when he called, I contacted Jeremy because I didn’t want to come here alone,” I said, scowling at David, “since his father thinks I’m a Satanist.”
    LeBlanc rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about anyone’s religious beliefs. I just want to understand what’s going on here.”
    “Did you summon those demons?” David asked, still not shouting, his voice still firm.
    LeBlanc narrowed her eyes and looked at me. “Demons?”
    I shook my head dismissively.
    David ignored us. “You summoned demons! In our house!”
    “Honest to God in Heaven, I didn’t summon no demons!” Manny turned his wide eyes to his father. “Dad, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do it!”
    LeBlanc raised a hand. “What is going on?”
    I waved her off. I wasn’t in the mood to explain the supernatural. “Someone had to summon those spirits. They generally manifest wherever the spell originates. That means, someone in this house called them. I doubt it was your parents.”
    Manny slumped in the chair, his arms crossed firmly. Teenaged sullenness stretched across his face. David glared at him and demanded in a stern voice, “Sit up straight, young man, when an adult is speaking to you.”
    Manny instantly sat up straight. I jerked my back straighter myself. I saw Jeremy flinch and sit up, though he caught my eye and smirked. David O’Toole had that voice, the kind that made you react before your brain even registered the words. It made him one strict terror of a father.
    Which is why I knew Manny would never confess. Yet, the more I thought about it, the more I knew he’d done it.
    “I’d like to talk to Manny myself.”
    “He’s a minor,” LeBlanc pointed out.
    “And my son,” David said.
    “Your son isn’t going to answer any questions with you snapping at him. Jeremy can stay if you insist.”
    He stared at me for a long moment. I returned the stare. LeBlanc broke the deadlock. “Come on, Mr. O’Toole, let’s make sure the fires in your front yard are out.” She turned to me. “Five minutes, and then I want to know what’s going on.”
    I nodded my agreement. I’d get the truth out of Manny and then I’d prime him on what to actually say to her.
    I looked over my shoulder and waited until the door slammed shut. I turned to Manny and said, “I’ll do my best to protect you, but I need to know the truth.”
    Manuel shifted in his chair. “Look, my parents will kill me.”
    I mustered the most exasperated expression that I could. “They will not kill you.”
    “Close enough.” Manuel crossed his arms. “If they know I’ve been practicing witchcraft, they’ll homeschool me, cut off the Internet, TV—you name it. They’ll drag me to church and have an exorcism on top of it. Dad asked for a transfer to Newfoundland because of the trouble I was into back in Halifax.” He let out a depressed sigh, laced with guilt. “This is gonna kill Mom.”
    I wanted to tell him that he was exaggerating, but we both knew he wasn’t. Until he turned eighteen or found a relative to take him in, the next three years of his life would resemble an unimaginable hell. Yet, he’d made the choice.
    “You should have thought of that before you involved yourself in something you couldn’t handle,” I snapped.
    Jeremy gave me a reproachful look. “Rachel.”
    “What? It’s a little too late for pussyfooting around.” I winced. “I can’t believe I just said ‘pussyfooting.’ ”
    Manny looked at me, his expression pleading. I ignored it. “Manny, if you don’t tell me exactly what you did tonight, people will get hurt. Do you understand me?”
    Manny’s eyes grew wide, his face pale. “But I didn’t mean to—”
    I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter what you meant. You called for spirits and, worse, somehow you screwed up the spell and they’ve manifested in corporeal form. Now tell me what you did.”
    He cringed at my tone. Jeremy glared at me.
    I closed my eyes and counted to five before opening them again. “Tell me what you