The Eighth Gate

27 | Marina Harbor

The first Sunday church service at Our Lady of Lords started at nine in the morning.

Apparently Mason was allergic to church services (or perhaps the whole concept of institutionalized religion in general) because he’d come up with an excuse that got him out of accompanying Mary to the church two hours before service started in order to meet up with Daniel. Father Whitlock and the rest of the church’s employees and volunteers didn’t get to the modest, pointed-roofed, glass-stained, cross-bearing structure that was Our Lady of Lords until at least eight, so Mary and Daniel would be completely alone to do what needed to be done.

After much convincing of her parents the night before, Mary winded up taking her bike, her nerves, and her two ghost friends along with her. Every part of her screamed not to go, but who else was going to retrieve the bottles of holy water (blessed and prayed over by Father Whitlock himself) that she so desperately needed now that she had a fairly good idea of where the next demonic attack would be? Salazar had given her and Mason all of the supplies he’d had—including his suitcase of special demon-fighting gadgets that he’d finally taught them how to use—but it wasn’t nearly enough, not for the two of them, not for the various locations they would eventually have to face demons in.

They were especially lacking in the holy water department.

And so Mary went ahead and did what Noah kept insisting she do—she texted Daniel and told him what she needed, and that she was willing to pay for it. She was not surprised to get almost an immediate reply with a definite and eager yes. The only small condition, as he’d put it, was that she come to the church alone since he didn’t want anyone else learning about what he was doing for her.

Eyeing the text at her side, Noah had cheered. Mary felt sick.

Now Mary was walking her bike towards the back entrance of the church—the one reserved for staff. She leaned her bike against the church’s side and walked up behind it. Immediately she spotted Daniel standing beneath the shade of the canopied entrance in front of a dingy looking door that required a set of keys to fit into a lock in order to open it. Daniel himself was pristine and neat as usual, with his blond halo of smoothed-down hair, parted on one side and gelled. He was in formal church attire, complete with black slacks, polished shoes and a white button-down shirt with a blue tie that matched his vivid cerulean eyes. He was crisp in a way that Mason wasn’t—whereas it appeared as if Daniel had put a lot of effort into making his appearance so clean he practically sparkled, Mason managed to pull off looking freshly done without much effort at all. He could probably roll out of bed, throw on a shirt and some pants and not even brush his hair and he’d still glow brighter than Daniel.

The moment Mary emerged from the corner of the church, she and Daniel locked eyes. He smiled a 1000 watt smile that made her stomach flutter with nerves. She felt queasy.

“Mary,” Daniel said, eyeing her up and down. It wasn’t like the way Mason eyed her, as if he were appreciatively sizing her up. Daniel’s gaze roamed over her body with a hunger and possessiveness that made Mary want to turn around, hop on her bike and ride away from him as fast as she could.

She forced her lips into a smile. She could do this. She could defend herself. And if for some reason it winded up being that she couldn’t, then Noah was here. And she knew he’d protect her no matter what.

“Morning,” Mary replied. “Thanks for doing this for me.”

“No, no; it’s fine,” he insisted with a wave of the hand. He reached into his pocket and fished out a set of jingling keys. He picked at it for the right one and fit it into the lock on the door as he spoke. “You know, I thought after what happened with Noah, you were done with all of this ghost stuff.”