Chapter Twenty

A few days had passed since Elizabeth had been healed. Their routine hadn't been messed up at all because of what had happened before that – Michael almost being possessed – but Michael did seem more careful of what he was doing and how much of it he was doing.

Langdon didn't press him as hard, either. They would stop and take a break whenever Michael's nose began to bleed.

Langdon began to come over earlier and leave later, but Elizabeth didn't mention it at all. One night he even stayed long enough that he saw the routine she and Michael went through when they went to bed. He even stayed for a while after Elizabeth left Michael to sleep.

He was waiting for her outside Michael's room. She didn't notice him until after she'd closed the door. It startled her a bit.

"You read to him?"

"He likes it," she said and shrugged. "I mean, it's not, like, Cat In The Hat or anything. It's . . . Well, Harry Potter, so it's directed towards older kids and teens. There's a lot to learn from it. You've . . . you've never read it?"

"I don't like reading."

"Hm. Well, we're reading it together. It's just something we've done since he first started living with me."

She walked back into the living room, and Langdon followed her.

"I'm glad you stayed. There's something I need to ask you."

She sat down on the couch and gestured for Langdon to do the same. He sat down on the opposite side and turned toward her.

"Christmas is a little over a week away. I don't really celebrate it in a big way, but I am having a dinner here. We're not exchanging gifts or anything, just eating a semi big meal together. You're welcome to come. I'd like you to come."

Langdon tilted his head as he studied her.

"I haven't done anything for Christmas since my grandmother died. As a rule . . . Ms. Mead never did anything."

"Why not?"

"Religious connotations and all. She worshipped the devil."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as that information sunk in. Langdon's Ms. Mead had worshipped the thing that was now haunting her house, haunting her and Michael?

"I . . . don't really know what to say to that."

An almost playful grin spread over Langdon's lips. "Oh, have I struck you speechless?"

"Well, I mean . . . yeah. If the devil really is what's messing with me and Michael, I don't understand why anyone would worship something like that."

"In my dimension, he wasn't really an active participant until much later. He never had anyone in his way of what he wanted from me, but you are very much in the way." There was a brief pause before he began to speak again. "It wasn't until I learned how to communicate in the proper way that he even began speaking to me."

"The proper way?"

"What you walked in on the first time you met me."

"Oh. Well, of course that's the proper way. Why wouldn't it be?"

Elizabeth scoffed and shook her head. She couldn't believe the conversation she was having . . . or who she was having it with. Only a few months ago, she never would've believed anything that had been happening would ever happen, not for real.

"So will you come?"

"Won't your parents wonder why you have me here? Or Michael?

"My parents won't be here. They sent me money, of course, but they really aren't that happy with me at the moment."

"Why not?"

"They wanted to go on vacation over Thanksgiving and I wouldn't watch my sister. She's fifteen and doesn't need a babysitter, but they wanted to bring her here and, well, Michael's here, and with everything that's been happening . . . I didn't think it was a great idea to have her here."

Langdon didn't say anything to that, but he did nod.

"So? You didn't answer."

Langdon relaxed back against the couch. "You are a persistent little thing."

"I can be," she agreed. "It's just . . . I still don't think you should be alone all the time."

"I've had company every day for over a week now."

"Fine. Stay over there if you want to. Michael and I can have a very nice, big dinner all on our own."

"I didn't say I wouldn't come. I just said I haven't been lacking company lately."

"Well, good." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I swear it's like pulling teeth with you."

Over the next few days the routine with Langdon continued, only they were working on something other than telekinesis now: Reading minds.

Elizabeth was not okay with that, not at all, because . . . privacy and all that.

"I'm adding a rule to my list," she said as soon as she realized Michael was going to probably have to learn on her. "After you learn to do this properly, you are not allowed to intrude on my thoughts."

Michael agreed to that by shrugging and nodding at the same time.

"The most he will be able to do at this point is feel what you're feeling, maybe catch a word or two of what you're thinking," Langdon explained.

That was comforting, at least.

"But one day he will be able to read my mind completely. You could when I first met you."

"My powers were a lot stronger than his. His may never be as strong as mine were."

"Why?" both Michael and Elizabeth said.

Langdon didn't answer; he just looked at Elizabeth steadily and told her to focus on something.

"When I was learning how to do this, my teachers would hide something and then I would have to discern where it was they had hidden it."

"Can we do that?" Michael asked. "That sounds almost fun."

Elizabeth looked at Langdon. "So I just think of something and he can go and get it?"

"That should work, since you haven't actually hidden anything."

"I . . . what do I do? Just think really hard or –"

"Focus on what it is you want him to go get."

Elizabeth began thinking about a very specific red shirt and where it was – hanging up in the closet in her room – and then let Michael know she'd picked something so he would know to try to figure out what it was.

"And what do I do?" Michael asked.

"Stay focused on Elizabeth."

That didn't seem to be too hard. Michael was always focused on her in some way. It was weird, though, because he scrunched up his eyes and she could almost feel him trying to read her thoughts.

"I kind of see the color red," Michael said, and Elizabeth nodded. He perked up a little, knowing he'd gotten something right. "I also see your room."

Without stopping to think about what exactly he was supposed to look for in her room, Michael began heading down the hallway and towards her room.

"You and I need to talk tonight, after he goes to bed," Langdon said.

"Okay. About why Michael won't be as strong as you were? You didn't answer earlier, but you looked like you wanted to say something."

"I don't know how he will react to knowing why he isn't as strong and probably never will be, so . . . as his caretaker, I am going to tell you why and then you can decide whether or not he should know."

"Is it your shirt?" Michael's voice called from down the hall.

"Well, it is a shirt. Bring it here so I can see," she called back. Then to Langdon, "That is not fair. You know I try to be completely honest with him."

"And you will probably decide to tell him this, but I thought you needed to know first so you could think of a way to tell him. Unless you want me to."

Elizabeth honestly couldn't imagine Langdon breaking bad news to anybody, not in a good way, and she knew whatever he was going to tell her had to be bad or he wouldn't have wanted to speak to her alone, after Michael went to bed.

"A'right, just . . . we can talk out on the porch like we did the first time."

Michael came rushing down the hall and into the living room then, a red shirt outstretched in his hands. It wasn't the right shirt, but since this was the first time he'd tried reading someone's mind it was still a good try.

Trying to read someone's mind didn't seem to take as much a toll on Michael as moving things with his mind did. He didn't get tired as easily and his nose didn't bleed at all. He was able to discern what she was thinking of just as many times as he wasn't, but it didn't discourage him.

"We can practice more tomorrow?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I need to talk to Langdon for a few minutes. Go get ready for bed and I'll be in to read to you soon."

Michael didn't complain at all or seem to care that he obviously wasn't being included in this conversation. To be fair, he probably thought she would just tell him whatever they talked about anyway.

Elizabeth followed Langdon outside and watched as he leaned against the porch railings.

"So?"

"So," Langdon repeated.

Elizabeth waited for Langdon to start; he was the one who wanted to talk to her about . . . whatever this was he wanted to talk about.

It was odd, but if she hadn't known any better, she would've sworn that Langdon seemed to not actually want to say what he was going to say. He had never hesitated to speak before.

"What is it? You want me to know, but you don't want to tell me."

He met her gaze then and she knew what she'd said was right.

"It's bad, isn't it?"

"In a way it is, and in a way it isn't because the choice I made isn't a choice your Michael will ever make." Langdon crossed his arms over his chest and then went on. "I had the same abilities Michael has. We were both born with them. When I found out who I was and what everyone expected of me, they told me of a way to gain more power. It was what they wanted, what was expected, but I can't deny that I was entranced by the idea of being more powerful than I already was."

"Okay . . ."

"You asked me the other day, when Michael was being taken over, if I ever found a way to fight it off or control it, and I told you I embraced it and worked with it. You don't know how true that is or . . . was, since I've been cut off from my father in this dimension."

"What – what happened?"

"There was a ritual that happened when Ms. Mead found me. It involved a human sacrifice, a blood sacrifice. I don't know who the girl was, and I didn't really care. All I know and remember is Ms. Mead and her friends telling me I had to do it and that they had brought her for me."

"You killed her?"

"They killed her right in front of me. I wasn't much older than Michael is now. I had to ingest a part of her in order for the ritual to work, and that's what I did. They removed her heart and –"

"And you had to eat it?"

Elizabeth had been able to control her horror and disgust until that moment. She'd known it would be something she probably didn't want to know, but she was relieved that she could honestly say she probably wouldn't have to ever worry about Michael doing something like that. She would never make him make that choice and she believed she had taught him enough to not make that choice if ever he was put in the position to do that. He would know better.

"It was on that night that I made the decision to follow my father and never look back."

"Why, though? I don't understand that at all."

"If you decided to follow what sometimes haunts your house, Michael would follow you. He would make the same choice if you asked him to because he loves you and wants to please you. Fortunately for him, you are a good person, and would rather suffer than do something like that."

"Oh, you're admitting there are good people now?"

"I'm admitting you're a good person," Langdon said. "I'm not sure about the rest of humanity."

"Hm. I'm sorry your life was so bad you never got to see the good in it."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and then exhaled. She couldn't control what had happened in the past, but she could let him know she wouldn't condone it in the future.

"I may be crazy, but I'm going to give you the same condition I gave Michael when he started staying here. If he wants to continue staying here, he can't hurt or kill another person or thing. He's been able to live by that rule and I think you can too. To my knowledge, you haven't hurt or killed anyone but Mallory since you've been here. I mean, yeah, I feel that Constance's death is your fault, but you didn't actually kill her, so I can't really blame that one on you."

"I don't understand."

"It's simple. If you want to continue to be a part of our lives, you can't kill anyone."

Langdon's eyes hardened just a bit. "Are you telling me what to do?"

"No. I'm giving you an ultimatum. I'm . . . letting you know what the consequences will be if you decide you want to kill another person. It's up to you what you do with it."

Langdon stepped forward, close enough to be in her personal bubble, and tilted his head just so.

"And what makes you think I won't just kill you?"

"Because you care about us. You care about me, and you care about him, and you know what will happen to him if something happens to me. As much as it pains you to admit it, I don't think you want him to turn out like you. You wouldn't be helping us, if you did."

He scoffed. "I can stop helping just as easily as I started."

"I don't think you can, Langdon. You've decided you want us in your life, and if there is one thing you and Michael have in common, it's that you're both incredibly attached to the people you decide to let in, and you've let me in."

They were so close now she could feel his breath on her face when he exhaled. His body was tense even though hers was loose. Maybe she was overestimating herself and his connection to her, but she felt that no matter what he had said, he wasn't going to hurt her, because he did care about her in his own way. Besides, she and Michael were the only people he had; unless he wanted to be alone again . . . he couldn't hurt them.