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gothdaddyissues · 2 years ago

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The Devil Came To A Small Town

Chapter Five available on Ao3

or under the cut (~7000 words)

PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES - October 1st has arrived and the pumpkin spice latte has returned. A trip to the coffee shop ruins Izzy's day, while Terzo and an over-caffeinated Ghoul cause trouble for Copia.

TW: Public freakout/bullying/discrimination (with some payback)

Tags: OC female, Cardinal Copia, Papa III/Terzo, Dewdrop Ghoul, a little bit of Cirrus Ghoulette, a smidgen of Papa II/Secondo (he angy), OC male, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Ministry Hijinks, Idiots in Love, Karens in the wild, swears and cursings, No Beta (we die like Terzo), Google Translate Italiano

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October 1

Izzy yawned into the back of her hand. She was still exhausted. She had tossed and turned after waking up from that dream, unable to fully drift off again. She couldn’t get the images - and the feelings, and the fucking questions - out of her mind.

It’s nothing. Not a big deal. It’s just your brain being stupid. It’s because you saw him yesterday, and you were at the Abbey reminiscing about the old days, you were listening to that music on your walk, you haven’t gotten laid in years… Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about him . It was just a dream… a dream in which you were getting absolutely railed. Dommed. By Copia. Copia , of all people. Awkward, shy Copia. With his face painted like a skull and calling himself Papa for some reason. Like a Daddy thing? Fuck, he was so Daddy, so sexy… hung like a… STOP IT. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not real, he’s not really like that. Is he? What if…? Shit. Why am I dreaming about him? It has to mean something…

Round and round and round in her head until her alarm went off. And while she was in the shower. And even now, sitting at her kitchen table finishing her breakfast and drinking her tea. She had her iPad out, open on a drawing app, and she was lightly sketching the painted skull face from her dreams.

While she didn’t consider herself an artist by any means, her skills were adequate thanks to Ari’s teaching in the past. The features of the face were passable and she had the paint pattern in the right spots. She even took the time to make one eye green and one eye white. She stared at it for a while, adjusting things here and there until she sighed and gave up. At the top of the drawing, she wrote “PAPA?” in big letters.

No more time for obsessing, she had to get her day started. Izzy snapped the cover on her tablet closed and paced across the apartment, shoving the iPad in her messenger bag hanging by the front door. She was full of anxious energy. It was another beautiful autumn morning, perfect for a walk, but she didn’t dare. She couldn’t be certain she wouldn’t wander off to the Abbey again since she was so irrationally drawn to this man. The fates were practically throwing the two of them together. And that was the absolute last thing she wanted to deal with today. She prayed she wouldn’t see him today at all - she couldn’t handle it.

She walked back to her bedroom to grab her phone, stopping at the altar in her living room, remembering the spell she had cast the other night. Copia’s business card was still there under the rose quartz crystal. She pulled it out and held it between her fingers, feeling the energy dancing around her. It was like the electricity she felt when she was in his presence. Those intoxicating sensations from her dream were twisting in her brain and her belly as if she were under his thrall…

Snapping out of it, she waved the card grumpily in front of the large statue of Lillith keeping watch over her sacred space. “Girl, please help me out here,” Izzy said to it, “Help me figure out what the fuck is going on with this man. I’m open to receive your guidance.” She tilted back the base of the statue and slid Copia’s card underneath it. “And please give me strength to get through this day.”

It was just past 9:30. She needed Ari to come into the store early today, but had waited until a little later in the morning to call him so she wouldn’t wake him up. He answered it on the second ring.

“Hey hey, good morning,” he said cheerfully.

“You’re awfully cheerful this early,” she remarked, suspicious. “What’s up?”

“Whaddya mean ‘What’s up?’ It’s October 1st! That’s what’s up.”

Izzy had been so preoccupied this morning she’d completely forgotten. “Oh yeah… Happy First Day of Halloween then!”

Ari laughed. “The most wonderful time of the year! And, you know what else that means?”

“Ummm…. No?”

“Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back, baby!” He sounded jubilant.

Izzy groaned. “Ugggh, god, really? You’re really that excited about cinnamon and nutmeg in your coffee?”

“No no no, it’s so much more than that, Izz,” he explained. “It is the essence of Fall in a cup full of steaming hot deliciousness. It’s like mainlining Jack o’Lanterns right into your soul. Like bonfires, and haybales, and crispy leaves under your feet…”

She was laughing now. “Jesus, Ari, it’s coffee . Relax,” she teased.

“Hey, let me enjoy my Christian Girl Autumn, okay?”

“Okay, fine, fine,” she giggled. “But first, could you maybe come into the store a bit early today and open up for me? I have to go to the bank to do a deposit and get some change for the register. I want to get it done first thing.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem!”

“Cool, thank you.”

“Since you’ll be at the bank, which is right next door to the coffee shop… maybe you could pick up a PSL for me on your way back? You know, just to thank me for coming in early?”

“Yeah, I can do that,” she sighed. “You’re so basic… but I love you anyways.”

“I love you too,” he said. “See you soon.”

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The coffee shop was busy - apparently, Ari wasn’t the only one excited about the return of the Pumpkin Spice Latte. Isabelle took a spot in the line and pulled her phone out of her pocket, figuring she’d scroll through her socials to kill time.

One of the features of living in this small town was she knew most of the people there, or at least who they were. Taylor, Nick, and Kayla behind the counter. Jim the insurance agent in line behind her. A couple of her regular customers. Penny from the grocery store. Affluent realtor Diane Francis and her pseudo-socialite friend Giselle in line in front of her.

But with that knowledge came the ordeal of being known. Instead of burying her nose in her phone in peace, she had to exchange ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ and polite small talk with those she was friendly with while trying to ignore those she wasn’t. She turned her attention back to her phone screen to avoid the disdainful glances from the two women ahead of her. Because, despite the fact she was a successful business owner and benevolent member of the community, Izzy was still considered persona non grata with the town’s wealthy elite. Her beliefs were too ‘unconventional’ and her past too ‘immoral’ to be worthy of their approval. She avoided them whenever she could; unfortunately not possible today.

The women turned away and resumed their gossip. “So, they’ve taken over the whole Abbey property,” Diane told her friend, “Can you believe it? They fooled us all! They claim to be a Church when there is nothing pious about them. They’re worshiping…” she lowered her voice only slightly, her eyes shifting back to Izzy for a moment, “... the Devil !”

Giselle gave a nervous laugh as if it were a joke. “No! You can’t be serious?”

“Dead serious. They’re called the Church of Emeritus… look them up! It’s right there on the website. They talk about ‘the Dark One.’ Rituals. Upside-down crosses. Satanists. In our town! It’s disgusting,” Diane complained.

“What can we do?” Giselle seemed panicked. “This is unacceptable! That sort of thing isn’t welcome here.”

The two of them continued nattering and Izzy tried to tune them out. But she was wary. These women and their well-connected friends could easily cause trouble for the Church and its members if they wanted - especially Diane and her real estate developer husband Andrew. Between them, they owned the most property in town and used their money and influence to control so much of what happened here. Crossing them was dangerous, especially when they had the mayor and police department in their pockets.

Anxious and angry thoughts were swirling in Izzy’s head. Who the fuck do they think they are? Why do they get to decide who’s worthy of being here or not? These assholes might organize protests, or harass them, or encourage vandalism, or wage some hate campaign… I have to warn Sister Imperator. And Copia… Oh fuck, Copia. Don’t think about him. Not now…

The sound of her name snapped her back to reality. Taylor, the barista, was calling out to her: “Izzy? You ready to order?” The busybodies in line ahead had already ordered and stepped off to the side. Izzy was too preoccupied to notice.

“Oh, hey Tay. Yeah, ummm… two Venti Pumpkin Spice Lattes, please,” Izzy said sheepishly. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a second.”

“No worries, I know it’s crazy in here today,” Taylor said, giving Izzy the total. As she was paying, Taylor leaned in close to her. “Is what they’re saying about Windermere Abbey true? Did a Satanic church really move in?”

“Yep, it’s true,” Izzy replied, keeping her voice low, “I’ve had a couple of them in my store already.”

“Really? Are they cool? Have you gone to one of their… services?”

“Yeah, they seem like cool people. But I haven’t been to a service yet. I’m sure I will sometime, though.”

Taylor was wide-eyed with excitement. She was a gorgeous young woman, with vibrant red hair, glamorous makeup, and elaborate tattoos. She was a regular at Izzy’s shop and a devotee of the occult. Izzy wasn’t the least bit surprised she’d be interested in what the Church of Emeritus had to offer. “I’m gonna check them out!”

“You definitely should!” Izzy encouraged. “Let me know if you do.” She moved aside to join the group of people at the pick-up counter, perching on the window ledge to wait until they called her name.

Diane and Gisele sat nearby, their conversation about the Abbey still going. The customers waiting alongside them were an uncomfortable captive audience.

“We could have bought that property, you know,” Diane said, flipping the ends of her blonde hair behind her shoulders. “We seriously considered it. But it would have cost four times the asking price to fix it up. I don’t understand why it wasn’t just torn down. It’s a rat-infested dump! Appropriate for the people who bought it, I suppose.”

Izzy knew she should stay silent. Bite her tongue, get her coffee, and leave. But the urge to defend her new friends was too strong. “It’s not a dump,” she said, as calmly as she could, “They’ve fixed it all up and it looks beautiful. Completely renovated inside and out.”

A few people perked up when they heard Izzy’s voice, turning their heads to see how Diane was going to respond to this. She stared down her nose: “Of course you would defend them,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with contempt.

“I’m not defending anyone,” Izzy shot back. “Just stating a fact.”

“Are we talking to you?” Giselle snapped. “Mind your own business.”

“It’s everyone’s business. We should be grateful someone went through all the trouble and expense of saving a piece of our town’s history.” Izzy was regretting this, knowing it would not end well, but it was too late now. “Better than putting an ugly condo building or a strip mall shopping plaza there in its place.”

She saw the look of shock on Diane’s face. But the woman composed herself quickly, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Izzy “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you insinuating something?”

“I know people on the Heritage Committee,” Izzy said, “They saw the proposal you submitted when the property went up for sale. You and your husband wanted the Abbey demolished so you could build there.”

“And what’s wrong with that? More amenities and conveniences mean more people stay and spend their money in town, rather than running off to the city. Modernizing is a good thing. It’s called progress, honey ,” she replied, smug and patronizing.

“It couldn’t have been that good of a thing if your offer was rejected,” Izzy countered.

“Well, that was a mistake on their part. The entire property has been a den of filth and depravity since the convent left. Burn it down and salt the earth.”

“What a horrible thing to say.” Izzy was fuming. “It’s a beautiful historic property that was worth saving. You’re just bitter because you didn’t get what you wanted.”

That did it. She could see the anger in Diane’s eyes as she stepped closer, pointing her bejeweled finger in Izzy’s face. “You wanna know what I’m bitter about? Weirdos and freaks like them - and like you - coming into my town and spreading your sick, godless beliefs. Since you’re so friendly with the Satan worshippers, why don’t you take all your spellbooks, and your crystal balls, and your jars full of bat wings and newt eyes, and move your profane little store down to the Abbey and off our main street? I’m sure they’re already your best customers,” she spat, “ We don’t want you here .”

Izzy flinched and lowered her gaze to the floor, humiliated into silence by this awful woman’s bullying. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from lashing out with angry words. She wanted to give this woman a piece of her mind, but it was pointless. She shouldn’t have gotten herself involved in the first place. She saw Diane move away out of the corner of her eye, quite satisfied with herself.

“Izzy! Two PSLs for Izzy!” Nick the barista called out.

“What? Hey, no no no,” Diane stomped over to the pick-up counter. “Those are ours. We ordered before her!”

“She gets hers first because she’s nicer than you,” Nick snapped, motioning to Izzy to come up and claim the order.

“Excuse me?!” Diane was livid . “Don’t you know who I am?”

Nick rolled his eyes, not about to put up with this woman’s bullshit. “Yes Karen , I know who you are. You’ll get your coffee in a minute. We’re very busy today, as you can see.”

“My name is not Karen. And I want to speak to your manager. Now .”

“The manager isn’t available at the moment, unfortunately.” Nick was so very smooth and calm. “Also, the manager is my mother, AND she’s a regular at Izzy’s store. When I tell her what you said, you’ll be lucky if she doesn’t ban you for harassing our customers.”

“Harassing?! Me? But… but… She started it!” Diane sputtered.

Izzy took the opportunity to grab the two coffees from the counter and slink away while the argument continued and before Diane could yank them out of her hands. She glanced back to Taylor at the cash register, giving her a nod of thanks. Taylor shooed her away, mouthing “Go, go!”

She made a beeline to the exit, past the long line of people waiting to place their orders, her eyes on the ground. All she wanted was to escape with a smidgen of dignity left. She got to the door when someone stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop and look up.

It was a silver-masked man from the Church of Emeritus. Izzy studied him for a moment before realizing it was not the same one who had been at the shop with Cardinal Copia. This one was shorter and leaner. She felt a gentle hand on her arm - not his, but someone beside her, also in a silver mask, only this one carved with female features. She looked at Izzy with worried eyes, tilting her head in concern.

“I’m okay,” Izzy whispered to her, understanding what she was trying to communicate. “Thank you.”

The woman nodded, turning to her companion and giving him a quick nod as well. He opened the door for Izzy like a gentleman.

“Thanks,” she said to him. “But watch out for her,” she motioned to Diane, still there waiting for her coffee, “She’s a nasty one.”

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Izzy hurried down the sidewalk with one coffee in each hand, her pace as quick as she could manage without spilling hot liquid all over herself. She took deep breaths as she walked, trying to soothe the anxiety tumbling around inside her head. It was only a short trip back to the store, but at this point, it felt like miles. Embarrassed, shamed, singled out - she just wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

There were footfalls behind her, speeding up to match her pace. She panicked. Oh shit, it’s her, isn’t it? She’s gonna yell at me in the street, she’s gonna throw hot coffee in my face…

“Izzy?” a male voice called out to her. “Izzy, wait up!” It was Jim, the insurance agent. He had been in line behind her and obviously saw the whole incident.

“Oh, Jim! It’s you,” she sighed, relieved. “I was worried it was Diane Francis chasing me down.”

He laughed. “Nah, she wouldn’t dare. Nick and Taylor were still giving her shit when I left, and the crowd was turning on her.”

“Damn, I’m sorry I missed that.” Izzy couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the thought.

“You don’t mind me walking with you, do you?” he asked.

His office was just a block past her shop so she could hardly refuse. “No! No, of course not,” she said, “I don’t mind at all.”

Their pace slowed to something more comfortable, and Jim took a small sip of his coffee as they walked. “You alright?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose. I should have just shut my mouth and ignored them, huh? I made an ass of myself.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jim said, “It’s about time someone stood up to them and their sanctimonious Boomer crap. They can’t keep getting away with treating people like garbage.”

“Well, as long as they have all the money, and the land, and the mayor wrapped around their finger, they will,” Izzy lamented.

They came to the intersection of Main and Richmond Streets. Izzy’s shop was on the corner across the road. “Thanks for walking with me, Jim. Good to see you,” she said.

“You too, Izzy. I hope you know that most people don’t agree with her. About anything. But especially about you. I don’t know anyone here who doesn’t think you’re an awesome person. Don’t let what she said get to you.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And don’t let it ruin your day, okay?”

“Thank you, I’ll try. See ya,” she called as she crossed the road. Jim gave her a little wave and went on his way.

The front door swung open as she approached. Ari had been waiting for her to return with his treat, and he was smiling ear to ear as she entered the shop, almost yanking the cup out of her hand.

“Coffee coffee coffee coffee…” he purred, before taking his first sip and sighing blissfully. “Ahhhh, yaassss. I’ve been waiting almost a whole year for this!”

“Good morning to you too,” she muttered. She left her coffee cup and messenger bag on the cash counter and continued into the back room of the shop, shrugging off her jacket as she went.

“Hmph, someone’s in a foul mood,” Ari observed, leaning on the office doorframe, “You should try some pumpkin spice. That will cheer you up.”

“No thanks. You can have them both. I don’t have the stomach for it right now.”

“Why not?” He followed behind as she came back to the counter to empty rolls of change out of her bag. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

She couldn’t hide it - Ari knew her too well. “I got harassed by Diane Francis and her minion Gisele while I was at the coffee shop,” she admitted with a sigh.

“WHAT?” Ari gasped, almost choking on his drink, “Why!?”

“Because they were talking shit about the Church of Emeritus: ‘Oh no, devil worshippers in our town! Whatever shall we do?’ And I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, so we got into it. She gave me the usual godless heathen spiel, she called us all freaks and weirdos, and told me that I wasn’t ‘wanted here.’ Wouldn’t’ve bothered me so much if it wasn’t in front of a shop full of people.” Izzy shook her head. “Embarrassing as hell.”

“Fuck those crusty old bitches,” he growled. “Dammit, Izz… It’s my fault, I’m sorry. I’m the one that made you go there.” He pulled her into a hug and squeezed her tight.

“Hey, no, it’s not your fault. I should’ve known better than to engage with them. It’s not like they’ve never talked shit to me before.”

He held her for several long moments before perking up. “Hey! We should hex them!” he suggested. “They deserve it.”

Izzy couldn’t help but laugh. Ari’s comforting presence and sense of humor always made things better. She leaned into his embrace and felt the tension in her body melt away. “Yes, they do. But I don’t want to give them another thought. Let karma have its way with them.”

He pulled away from her a bit to look into her eyes. “Aww… no hexing?” he asked, disappointed.

“No. No hexing.”

“But can I still drink both coffees?”

“Yes,” she said, untangling from his embrace and giving him a playful nudge, “You’ll enjoy it more than I will.” Izzy turned back to the cash register to finish refilling the cash drawer. “You’re gonna be buzzing from all that caffeine though.”

Ari took another long sip of his coffee and smiled, giving her a mischievous wink. “I’m okay with that.”

“I should probably give the Church the heads up about Diane Francis and all her friends. They could make things pretty miserable for them.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agreed. “Gives you an excuse to talk to your sexy Cardinal friend, right?”

And just like that, Copia was at the forefront of her brain again.

Oh fuck…

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“I have never been treated so poorly in my life!” the angry blonde woman yelled. “My lawyer will hear about this.”

“You’re gonna call your lawyer ? About coffee ?” the male barista replied, stunned by the stupidity of her statement.

Cirrus and Dewdrop gave each other the side-eye, annoyed but not surprised by an entitled human’s behavior. It definitely wasn’t the first time they had encountered such a thing, but for once it was not directed at them.

“Yes! This is discrimination!” she continued, eliciting scoffs and exasperated groans from some of the other customers in the shop.

“Aww… poor rich white lady, such a victim,” Dew muttered under his breath.

Cirrus gave him a light swat on the shoulder. “Shhh,” she whispered, “Someone will hear you.”

One of the female baristas placed two cups on the pick-up counter and said: “Diane! Two PSLs for Diane!”

“Finally!” Diane huffed, rudely grabbing the cups and handing one to her companion. “Terrible service. I’m never coming back here again!”

The male barista dismissed her: “Yeah, you’ve said that before. See you tomorrow - have the day you deserve, ma’am!”

Dewdrop found the entire incident endlessly amusing. Nothing like a good public freakout. He knew he should mind his business and let her leave, but his disdain for unpleasant humans like her was too strong to pass up fucking with her. Just a little bit.

As she stomped, head down, towards the exit, Dew took a sideways step out of the queue to block her path. She stumbled into him, almost spilling her drink.

“Watch what you’re doing, you…” It was only then that she looked up and saw who she had run into. She squeaked in shock, her friend behind her letting out a frightened gasp. She was wide-eyed, staring into his mask in terror.

Dew just tilted his head slightly and looked her dead in the eye. Unmoving.

“M..mm… move,” Diane stammered.

Dew remained motionless.

“You… you heard me. Get out of my way!”

He could smell the panic rolling off of her. He liked it. Again, he did not move and continued to stare her down.

She withered under his gaze. “Um… excuse me.” Still nothing. “Please?” she finally said, through gritted teeth.

Once the magic word was said, Dew stepped out of her way with a deep bow, sweeping his arms toward the door in a dramatic gesture. The women scooched past him as quickly as they could, keeping a wide berth.

“Fucking freaks,” Diane grumbled as she walked out the door.

Dew couldn’t help himself. He placed his hands in the shape of a heart, then blew exaggerated kisses at her through the window as the two women darted away. He took his spot next to Cirrus again, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

The two Ghouls patiently waited their turn to order, with hardly anyone else in the shop paying them much attention. A few gave them a double take - understandable - and they even got a couple of pleasant nods from people on their way out, likely a way of saying ‘thanks’ for putting that awful woman in her place. But otherwise, nobody said a word to them, good or bad.

When they arrived at the register, the barista gave them a warm welcome: “Hi, hello! What can I get for you today?”

Cirrus had her phone out, open on the notes app, and she had already typed their order onto the screen. She held it up for the barista to read.

“Two Grande Pumpkin Spice Lattes for ‘Cirrus’? Excellent… Anything else?” she asked with a smile.

Cirrus shook her head and pulled out a silver credit card to make the payment.

“Are you guys from that new Church in town?” the barista asked. “I mean, I figured you were, but…”

Cirrus nodded enthusiastically.

“Cool, cool, Izzy told me about you! So uh, can anyone just show up there? Like, do you have open services, or…?”

Cirrus nodded again and held up her index finger in a ‘just a moment’ gesture. Her fingers flew over her phone screen as she typed, and then she held it up again.

“‘Sundays at 7:00. Windermere Abbey. All are welcome,’” the barista read. “Awesome! I’d love to come. I’ll be there this week. Do you have a website I can check out?”

Dewdrop reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card with all the relevant contact information on it and gave it to her, while Cirrus clapped her hands in excitement.

“Thank you! I’ll see you on Sunday.”

The two Ghouls gave each other a little fist bump while they waited for their coffees. When they finally left the shop with steaming hot drinks in their hands, Cirrus pulled close to Dew and whispered: “Drink up, L’il Dewdrop… We gotta finish these before we get back. Sister Imperator will lose her shit if she finds out you’ve had caffeine again.”

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“The Magical Will is in its essence twofold, for it presupposes a beginning and an end; to will to be a thing is to admit that you are not that thing.”

Copia yawned. This was the third time he had read this sentence. It may as well have been in Greek for all the sense it made in his brain. At this rate, it would take him forever to get through this book.

He blamed it on another night of fitful sleep. The surprise visit from Isabella the previous morning had left him giddy. Her dark beauty, her smile, her laugh, her joy at seeing the Abbey returned to its former glory, her promise to return… all of it roused euphoric feelings in him that lingered as he went about his day.

And oh, did it linger into the night. He awoke at some point past the witching hour with his hand down his pants, cock in fist and body tingling in release. Quite the mess to clean up too. He had been dreaming about her, but the details disappeared the moment he opened his eyes. After that, he never drifted back off fully, tossing and turning and burning with thoughts of her until the sun rose over the horizon.

And now he was struggling to keep his eyes open, blinking rapidly to keep the sentences on the book page from dissolving into a blurry jumble of letters. He fidgeted with his bookmark - Isabella’s business card - rotating it absentmindedly between the fingers of one hand while propping up his head in the other. This is not how he wanted to be spending his day.

There were three sharp knocks on his office door, and it opened without waiting for his invitation to enter. It jolted him out of his stupor, and he looked up from his book with a scowl, already annoyed with whoever thought they could just waltz right in…

“ Buongiorno Cardinale! ” Terzo greeted with a flourish.

“Ah, good morning Papa,” Copia deadpanned, “Thank you for knocking first.”

Terzo ignored Copia’s dispassionate response and sauntered right up to the desk, plopping himself down on the corner of it and making himself quite at home. “How are you fratellino ? I feel as though I have not seen you for days! Why have you been locking yourself away, hmm?”

“I’ve been busy,” Copia replied.

“Busy? This is busy? Reading?” He picked up the open book on the Cardinal’s desk, flipping to the cover to read the title. He made a face. “Crowley? Feh! Why are you reading this drivel?”

Copia pulled the book out of Terzo’s hands and laid it back on his desk. “It’s research , Papa. For the History of the Occult lecture Secondo and I will be giving in a few weeks.”

“Oooh, yes yes,” Terzo nodded, “I do recall that, now that you mention it.” He gave Copia a smirk. “So that’s what’s keeping you busy? And not…” He quickly yanked the business card from the Cardinal’s other hand, “... this?”

“Give that back, Terzo!”

Terzo hopped up off the desk and stepped out of Copia’s reach, holding the card delicately in his fingers to read it aloud. “Miss Isabella Bennett, Shadow & Light Metaphysical Boutique. This is the woman that Sister Imperator has been blathering on about for the last week or so, isn’t it?” He gave the Cardinal a lecherous look. “I hear she is very pretty. Dark of hair and fair of skin, with eyes so deep and warm you could get lost in them for days… She also enjoys exploring old, abandoned cemeteries, and chatting with shy, Satanic clergymen, so I’m told.”

Copia averted his eyes, feeling heat flush his cheeks. “And who told you this?” he asked quietly.

“Well, the Ghouls do like their gossip. Alpha was there in the greenhouse with you and Primo yesterday. And you know how close he and Omega are. Word travels fast.” He handed the card back to Copia with a wink. “No need to be embarrassed about it, fratellino . I think it’s sweet.”

Copia took the card and placed it in the book to mark his place. “And this is why you are here today? To give me your blessing?”

“Actually, no,” Terzo said, his demeanor becoming a bit more serious. He sat in the chair across from Copia’s desk. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

“Oh?” Copia raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Help with what exactly?”

“Well, Imperator has been on my ass about the monthly expense reports for September,” he revealed, “It seems there’s a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“I.. I didn’t do them,” Terzo admitted hesitantly.

Copia rolled his eyes, “For fuck’s sake, Terzo,” he muttered.

“And so,” Terzo continued, tenting his fingers in front of him, tapping them together nervously, “I was hoping that maybe you… could do them for me?”

“Ummm… no,” Copia replied flatly.

“No?!” Terzo was indignant. “What do you mean ‘no?’ I am your Papa. You are my Cardinale . You are here to support and assist me!”

“When you were Secondo’s Cardinale , did you do his monthly expense reports for him?” Copia asked.

“Of course not!”

Copia shrugged. “Okay, so… that proves my point, si ?”

“That was different,” Terzo insisted. “Secondo was - is - a control freak. Very bad at delegating. Plus we were nowhere near as busy then. Our congregation has tripled in size since then. I am just pulled in so many directions,” he waved his hands back and forth, “as you surely know.”

“Then perhaps you should hire an assistant?” Copia suggested.

Terzo scowled like a sullen teenager. “Imperator won’t let me have one. She says I can’t be trusted not to keep my hands off them.”

“She’s not wrong,” Copia said with a pointed look.

“Copia, please. I am not too proud to beg. Please! I will make it worth your while.”

Copia leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Will you, now? What are you offering in return?” It was obvious to him that Terzo had just expected him to say yes to his request. He didn’t want to give in, but was willing to see what he might get out of this if he did.

“I’ll… ummm,” Terzo stalled. “Oh! I can help you with your bella signora strega ! I will help you woo her, win her. She will be on her knees for you in no time.”

An image flitted into Copia’s mind, fleeting, ethereal. Isabella, on her knees before him, pleasuring him. Sinful and submissive. It was the dream he’d had… But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

He cleared his throat, composed himself. “What makes you think I can’t handle that myself?” Copia scoffed, quite offended. “That’s your best offer? Insulting me?”

“No! No no no no, I do not mean to offend, Cardinale ! Truly. Of course you can win this lady, of course! I just meant that… well…” Terzo sighed deeply, his dignity gone. “Shit. Alright, look. You are smarter than me. Better than I am at administrative things. I freely admit this. I rely on you so much - we all do. You are indispensable here. And Imperator - she scares the fuck out of me. Do you know about these visions she has? I don’t want her on my bad side. She will curse me, I know it. Please, Cardinale, il mio fratellino . Help me.”

Copia actually felt a pang of guilt refusing him. He sat silent, regarding him for a moment. “All right,” he said, “I will help you. That does not mean I will do it for you. We will do it together. And I’ll help you set up a system so this doesn’t happen again. Capisci ?”

Terzo furrowed his brow, groaning: “Uggggh…”

“That’s the deal,” Copia said, “Take it or leave it.”

“ Inferno del cazzo . Fine,” Terzo grumbled.

“Good,” Copia nodded, “We’d best get started.”

They were about to stand when there was an urgent knock on the office door.

“Yes?” Copia called out. “What now?”

The door opened and Aether entered. “Hey boss… oh! Hello, Papa,” he greeted. “Umm, Cardinal, something happened in town today that I think you’ll wanna know about. Cirrus and Dew were at the coffee shop, and…”

“What?!” There was panic in Terzo’s voice.

“Why was he at the coffee shop?” Copia asked. “He knows he’s not supposed to have caffeine. Don’t tell me he…”

The sharp sound of glass shattering echoed through the long corridor. Terzo and Copia both flew to their feet, Aether rushing back out into the hallway. A Ghoul zipped full-speed past Copia’s door in the opposite direction of the commotion, with Secondo’s voice booming after him: “DEWDROP GHOUL! What did you do? Get the FUCK back here!”

“Dewdrop! No… oh no!” Sister Imperator was distraught. “The stained glass!!”

“Oh shit…” Aether muttered, hurrying off down the hall after Dew.

Terzo and Copia made their way to the end of the hallway, where a crowd of concerned Siblings gathered around Sister Imperator, inspecting the damage to the window and the shards of brightly colored glass strewn across the floor. Siblings were whispering amongst themselves: “How did he get up there?” “He was literally climbing the walls!” “It was crazy…”

Secondo leaned against the doorframe to his office, his arms crossed over his chest, glowering at Imperator. “‘Summon more Ghouls’, she said,” he sneered under his breath, “‘They’ll be so helpful,’ she said.”

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

“Food’s here!” Ari announced as he entered the shop. He carried a large paper bag in one hand containing take-out from their favorite Italian restaurant in town, Brigantino’s - a late afternoon meal of fresh minestrone soup, salad, and just-out-of-the-oven bread. He brought the food into the back office where Izzy had already cleared off a section of the desk so they could eat, and began unpacking the neat take-out containers.

“Oooh, yum!” Izzy was excited to dig in. She was starving. “Thank you so much, Ari. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know, but I feel bad about what happened to you this morning, and I wanted to make it up to you. Plus, we’re officially in soup season now.”

“I’ll take soup over pumpkin spice any day,” she giggled.

Ari took out his phone and propped it against a stack of books on Izzy’s desk. “Wanna watch something while we eat?”

“Sure! But hang on… I’ve got my iPad in my bag. That’ll be better.” She got up and went to the nearby coat hook where her satchel was hanging, pulling out the tablet and handing it to Ari to set up.

He flipped open the tablet’s cover and the screen automatically lit up. It was still open on the drawing program Izzy had been using that morning, on the sketch of her skull-faced dream man.

Ari’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh-ho, what’s this? Who is Papa?” he asked.

The day had been such a messy blur of activity that it took her a moment to register what he was asking. “Huh?” He turned the screen around to show her and she gasped loudly, the heated flush of embarrassment burning across her cheeks. “Oh! Uh… nothing. It’s nothing… nobody, I mean…” She tried to grab the tablet out of Ari’s hands but he pulled it away and out of her reach.

“Nobody, hmm?” He gave her a skeptical, sideways glance before turning his attention back to the sketch, looking at it with an expert’s eye. “You haven’t drawn anything for a long time. I didn’t know you were getting back into that. Don’t be embarrassed - it’s good!”

She realized he had no idea that it wasn’t the quality of the drawing upsetting her. Using that to her advantage, she played it off: “Yeah, I’m out of practice. It’s just a doodle, a face I saw in my dream last night. I felt like sketching it this morning.” She managed to tug the iPad out of his hand while he was still examining it.

“Any reason why his eyes look like Copia’s?” he asked cheekily before slurping up a spoonful of soup.

Shit… do I tell him?

The jingle of the front door bell intervened before she could stammer out a response. A young man dressed all in black had entered the shop carrying a large box in his arms. Izzy took the opportunity to escape from Ari’s question, getting up from her desk and hurrying out to the shop floor to greet him.

“Hello! Welcome, how can I help you?” she asked.

“Uh, hi,” he said shyly, “I have something here for Isabelle?”

“That’s me!”

“Oh okay cool, here you go!” He handed the box over to her and left as quickly as he came.

She placed the box down on the counter, suspicious. A nondescript person delivering an awkwardly shaped box to her shop the same day she had publicly gotten into it with one of the town’s most well known - and vindictive and petty - residents. The anxiety-controlled part of her brain was terrified to open it.

Ari appeared in the doorway, munching on a piece of bread. “What is it?” he asked.

Izzy shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Are you going to open it?”

She shook her head. “I’m scared. What if it’s from Diane Francis? What if she sent me a dead animal or something?”

“Only one way to find out,” Ari said, approaching the box and slowly lifting the top off of it. He peered inside, his features tense for a moment before relief washed over his face and he smiled. “Definitely not a dead animal,” he assured her, motioning for her to come look.

Izzy peeked inside and gasped. In the box was a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful flowers, not at all your typical grocery store arrangement. Delicate pink carnations, black dahlias, and crimson amaranthus surrounded by emerald green foliage. There was a small envelope tucked in between the stems.

“Who’s it from? Who’s it from?” Ari asked excitedly.

She opened the envelope and within found a small card that simply read: ‘Hope this brightens your day!’ No name or signature. Behind it was a $50 gift card for the coffee shop. She handed both over to him. “It doesn’t say.”

“Obviously somebody who knows what happened today, though,” he observed, “Coffee shop employee? Maybe the owner? Or just someone who was there and felt sorry for you…” He turned the cards over and inspected the envelope, just to make sure they weren’t missing something.

“There were dozens of people there this morning. Could have been any of them… but why wouldn’t they sign it?”

“They don’t want you to know, I guess. A secret admirer?” Ari wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe Jim the insurance guy? I saw you walking back with him.”

“I highly doubt he would do this,” Izzy mumbled.

“Why? Didn’t you guys used to date?”

“Yeah, for about three months back in high school. Does that even count as ‘dating?’”

Ari laughed as he walked back into the office. “If it does, then by that criteria you dated half of the boys in school.”

“And that would mean you dated the other half,” she shot back, grinning. She stood there for a moment, admiring the gorgeous flowers, savoring their rich, heady fragrance. She brushed her fingers along the petals of one of the carnations. There was a familiar energy there that made her tingle in all the right ways. At that moment, she knew exactly who sent these. The silver-masked couple must have gone back to the Abbey and told them what happened.

The flowers were from Copia.

(bonus moodboard for this chapter)

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost fan fic #my fan fic #ghost fanfiction

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