Demons of the Rich and Famous (Demon Whisperer book 1)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Once Alan calmed down and withdrew to his study accompanied by his wife and with his lawyer on the phone, the party got into full swing.  With ten big ones in an envelope tucked into the inner pocket of my black leather jacket, I snagged a beer from one of the waiters making the rounds and started to relax.  No one cared that I was underage.  It was another job well done.

            As I made my way through the party, I received tons of congratulatory pats on the back and a few flirty smiles.  I usually just breezed through the parties letting people in the know see me, then I retreated to my hotel room to eat pizza and watch payperview movies and call my dad to let him know the job went well. But tonight I was in such a good-humored mood that I allowed Trey to interview me for his lame-ass show. 

Trey sat across from me, on the edge of the sofa, his camera propped up on his shoulder.  “How many exorcisms have you performed?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t keep count.”

“I heard in the last year, you’ve done about six.”

“Really?  That many.”  I wondered where he’d gotten that figure. I didn’t think it had really been that many.  I thought four at the most.  Anyway, who was keeping count?

“You’re what? Nineteen?

I nodded, although I was really seventeen.  My ID and passport claimed I was older.  My dad had arranged it with the I.O so I could travel around freely, without having to answer the tired old question of ‘Where are your parents young man?’.

“Isn’t that a little young to be doing this job?”

I shrugged.  “Exorcists are trained young.  I started my training at eight years old.  Apprenticed at thirteen.  Theoretically, I’ve been doing this close to over ten years.”

“Your dad, Frank Butcher, is a world-renowned exorcist, isn’t he? Why isn’t he here with you?”

I smiled, but there was no humor in it.  What I really wanted to do was reach across the small space between us and slap the guy across the face.  “He’s enjoying his retirement back in Toronto.  He gets to relax while I do all the hard work and make all the money.”

More laughs all around.  Which I didn’t think Trey liked so much.  He was losing the upper hand.

“Why do you think there are so many demonic possessions in Hollywood?”

“Maybe it’s because your type is so easy.”  I tried to keep the loathing out of my voice, but I had a feeling by the raised eyebrows around the room it came through loud and clear.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Demons can’t just possess anyone.  There has to be a way in.  A weakness they can exploit.”  I gestured to the room.  “Like greed or gluttony.  Or lust.”  That got me a few snickers.  It was all part of the game, the con.  I had a reputation to flaunt.  A reputation that kept people guessing and kept the Butcher name in their cell phone address book.

“So sin?”

“The seven deadly big ones, dude.  Where else but Hollywood are they so celebrated?”

Everyone around me laughed at that.  But they had no idea how true my statement was, or how deadly.  I’d seen a lot of sin in the past two years.  More than a guy my age should ever see.  And none of it was very pretty.

“Now. About your past,” Trey asked, and I saw the gleam of triumph in his eyes, “what was it like being in a coma?  Can you share with us any insight into that time?”  He leaned in even closer.  “Do you remember any of it?”