Aldemore 1925

Zinobia closed her office door, and all but collapsed behind her desk. The chair creaked under her weight and she nearly knocked her notes for the day from her desk. It had been years since she'd been this tired after a shift.

When she moved from London to Aldemore in 1918, she'd expected light work. Caring for the mentally ill, those who society shunned to the oppressive walls of institutions like Serenity Lake Sanatorium. And it had been like that for the first few months.

Until she encountered her first demon.

"Zinobia," Josiah said gently, his voice filling her head. "That was the third one today. And the fourteenth this week."

"I know." She stacked her reports for the day together and added them to the overflowing folder on her shelf.

Her office was small, but enough to satisfy her needs. Shelves of medical journals and patient files towered to her left, and a wall of potted pathos and monstera grew to her right. In the midst of it all was her desk, decorated with paperweights, penholders and a picture of her and Vittoria in front of the flower girl in central Aldemore. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the oak buried under the scattered papers

Ten years ago, if anyone told her demons were running rampant amongst mankind, she'd have laughed and told them to check themselves into the very institution she sat in. But ten years ago, she hadn't agreed to let an angel occupy her body.

Now she, a mostly respected doctor, and a self-proclaimed woman of science, spent her days wrestling demons away from their victims and banishing them back whence they came while trying to help the angel who'd possessed her reascend to heaven.

Zinobia reached beside her desk and pulled her bag onto her lap. She shoved the journals within aside to make space for her spare set of bloodletting tools. The moment she set foot in her home, she'd run herself a hot bath and relax, perhaps have a nice dinner with Vittoria.

Are you not worried? Josiah asked.

Should I be? Zinobia zipped her bag shut and retrieved her lab coat from the back of her chair. She'd have to sew back on the button that had been ripped off by a demon that morning.

You should. I'm always here to help, but your body can only take so much. The number of demons we've been seeing has tripled in the last two weeks. I'm afraid this is not sustainable.

Then what do you propose we do?

We need to get to the root of the problem. Somehow. These demons aren't just showing up from nowhere. There has to be some reason they're gathering here. Or gathered here.

Zinobia nodded her agreement. We'll figure it out. She hit the lights in her office and started down the halls of Serenity Lake's special ward. Special because they had the smallest number of rooms and staff members—just three of each.

And that was just how Zinobia liked it. No other hospital, clinic or asylum wanted to deal with the demons with how violent and unpredictable they became, nothing short of brute force could get them under control. She was left alone to do her work, and Serenity Lake maintained its stellar reputation as being the most humane mental institution in the region.

Zinobia made it all the way to the lobby, before heavy footfalls sounded behind her.

"Doctor Baxter!" Alex, one of her two orderlies, came sprinting down the hall. He was the shorter of the two, but lithe and wiry in frame. "Sorry, I know you're leaving but, we have another screamer. Victors trying to get it through the back entrance now." As if on cue, a hellish screech tore through the foyer.

She closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. "Can you go to admissions and call my home? Tell Vittoria I'll be late."

"Of course." Alex ran down the opposite hall, and Zinobia turned on her heel to head back into the special ward.

She walked all the way to its end where a priest and her second orderly, Victor, were trying to get a thrashing child under control. The girl couldn't be a day over twelve. Her dark brown hair stuck up in wild strands about her head and her dress was torn in several places.

Zinobia squeezed past the fray and opened the door to room one. It was simply furnished with a single bed, a sink, and a metal table equipped with drawers, all firmly bolted to the ground lest they become projectiles. A pair of shackles were secured to the wall above the bed—a necessary evil for dealing with screamers.

She made quick work of pulling on her coat and setting out her tools. "Bring her in. And get that civilian out of here."

Victor shuffled in with the thrashing girl and got her on the bed. He was taller and thicker than Alex, built more like a rugby player. She made sure they got hours in the Sanatorium's gym on the weekends so these demons couldn't toss them around. Even the possessed children could pick up a bed and chuck it across a room.

Zinobia got one shackle secured around the girl's wrist, but she twisted her head around and bit down hard on Zinobia's wrist. "Ack!" She secured the second shackle and pried the girl's head off. Blood welled from the twin bite marks left behind. "Get out of here, Victor. I'll take care of the rest." As the door clicked shut behind her, Zinobia scrubbed her hands clean and laid out her tools.

Then she turned to the bed, where the demon thrashed and strained against the bonds. Magic pooled in her arm and gathered at her fingertips, a warm tingle akin to butterfly kisses. She caught the demon by the arm and it stilled immediately, eyes widening as it met her gaze. It wasn't seeing her anymore, but Josiah.

It made the most ungodly hiss and the girl's face contorted with rage. The scent of Brimstone clouded her breath. Zinobia took an alcohol soaked swab from the table and cleaned the palm of the child's elbow. Bloodletting was naught more than pseudoscience, she knew, but it provided the cover she needed to exorcise demons without raising too much suspicion. And the blood strengthened the ritual.

Zinobia took her lancet and made a small incision. Then pressed her hand against the open wound and flooded the girl's blood with Josiah magic. She stilled, but the demon writhed inside her, fighting for control, fighting to stay rooted in this mortal plain. Without a body, or a vessel of some sort, a demon could only survive so long as their magic lasted. Which was a few hours at best if they were floating around freely.

Little by little her magic drew the magic back out and drew the demon's magic out with it. She could still parse the two. Josiah's magic was warm and felt almost liquid against her skin. The demons was the heat one felt after being bitten by fire ants—and unpleasant, searing sting. She pulled every drop of it out, and the demon dissipated like an apparition with a scream only she could hear.

Zinobia exhaled a breath and wiped the sweat beading her forehead on her sleeve. Four in one day. She used to be surprised to see more than one and yet...

You should wrap that up, Josiah said, indicating the already healing twin bite marks on her wrist. The orderly and the priest saw when she bit you.

Good call.

Zinobia looked down at the girl, laying still, chest rising and falling with even breaths. She wouldn't remember any of this. Perhaps not any of what happened in the last few days. Her mind hadn't been able to do much else but fight against the demon's hold. Thank goodness she'd made it here and hadn't tossed herself off a bridge like so many others.

Poor child. Zinobia cleaned and bandaged the incision site, then cleaned and bandaged her own wrist. When she poked her head out the door, she met the priest down the hall, talking to Alex and Victor.

"You can come in," Zinobia called.

He came back down the hall at a jog. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine." She opened the drawer and pulled out an outpatient form. "Are you her legal guardian? If so, I'll need to ask you a few questions. Routine paperwork stuff."

The priest sat at the little girl's feet and cleaned his glasses. "For all intents and purposes, I suppose. She's... a resident at the St Augustine's orphanage."

"That works. Do you know when she began acting out of sorts?"

He frowned. "About a week ago. Millie is usually a well-behaved girl. Does her chores and homework on time. Never fusses or complains. Last week she started lashing out at the other children, the priests. I'd never seen her like that before."

That tracked with everything Zinobia knew about demonic possession. Behavioural changes, violent outburst. The mind and body were so irrevocably intertwined that while one was fighting the demon, the other was fighting everyone else. "And did she go anywhere or interact with anyone unusual during that time?"

"No. not that I know of. Do you know exactly what causes this? Is it catching? Should we keep an eye on the other children?" That was the usual bombardment of questions Zinobia usually got.

"No, I don't. No, it's not contagious, but if any of the children start acting up, you should bring them in. Just in case. For now, make sure little Millie gets lots of rest and hearty meals. She'll be weak and shaky for a while, but should recover within a week."

He nodded. "Is that all?"

"That is indeed all. You're free to go. You don't have to go home. But you can't stay here." She set the form back in the drawer to file away tomorrow and began sterilising her tools.

"Of course. Thank you, doctor." He picked up the little girl and started for the door, but stopped right at the threshold. "The name's Angelo, by the way. If you ever find yourself in need of guidance, stop by St Augustine's. We have services every Wednesday and Sunday."

Josiah's snort filled her head.

"Sure," Zinobia answered politely. She prided herself on being mannerly even in the face of the most ridiculous requests, but she'd skin herself with a spoon before setting foot in a church.

You and me both, Josiah agreed.