Angel of Ruin Read Online Free

this your laptop?” he said, indicating my five-year-old Toshiba.
    I nodded. “I think it’s on its last legs, but it does the job.”
    “I have a laptop at the shop that I no longer use. You can have it if you like.”
    “No, I’m sure mine will go the distance.”
    “Really, I insist. Since we put the new computer system in, I haven’t even opened it.”
    I shrugged. “Well, if you insist.” I had never had a problem with accepting gifts, even the ones that came with complex, unvoiced expectations. I figured I could sell my old laptop to some desperate student and use the money for my next phone bill. I switched on the electric kettle and made two cups of coffee. Neal rambled on for a few minutes about the new computer system and how it had improved the efficiency of their stocktaking. He needed very little encouragement to talk. I handed him a coffee mug.
    “Mmm, lovely,” he said, after the first sip.
    “I had a few questions about Deirdre,” I said.
    “Deirdre?”
    “Well, more specifically about the Wanderer she met.”
    “What would you like to know?”
    I sat in the windowsill, facing him. “Do you believe it?”
    He nodded immediately. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
    “You see, to me it sounds a little … incredible.”
    He smiled. “You will see and hear many more incredible things in the months to come.”
    “I don’t doubt it. What did she mean about a warning?”
    “A Wanderer must warn you. That’s their curse, to need to tell you a story but to be unable to find a willing listener.”
    “And why did we have to do a cleansing ritual for Deirdre?”
    “Because the compulsion to tell the story can be so strong, it can be almost contagious. Deirdre may have found herself a few days later thinking obsessively about the story, wanting to return and hear it. She may have even passed it on to others she came into contact with.”
    “Like us?”
    “Yes, like us. But, as she said, it’s safe to bring it to the Lodge because we’re all believers. We all did the cleansing ritual, and we’re all aware of the dangers.”
    “I see.”
    “You’re curious?” He looked at me closely, and I could tell he was wondering if
I’d
been thinking obsessively about the story, if Deirdre had somehow infected me with the old woman’s malaise.
    “Yes.” I smiled. “Not too curious, though. If you’re worried.”
    “No, not worried. I think, though, that I should show you the LBRP.”
    “Aha,” I said, scanning through my memory. “The Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram.”
    “Yes, it will help if you find yourself in any psychic danger. Sometimes entering the world of magic and ritual makes you vulnerable. You should probably be doing it every day.” He put his coffee cup down on the desk. “Come on, stand up. I’ll show it to you.”
    I did as he asked.
    “Now, face east.”
    “Which way is east?”
    “Where the sun rises.”
    I shook my head. “I’m not up at that hour.”
    “That way,” he said, pointing towards the door. I turned around.
    “Centre yourself.”
    I took a breath, closed my eyes.
    “You stand at the very heart of the universe,” he said. “There is a brilliant white sphere above you, a sphere of light. Reach up with your right hand, pull the light towards you, towards your forehead. And say
Atah.”
    They had taught me a peculiar way of saying these magical words, very far back in my throat like a slow, vibrating whisper. It always made me want to cough. I did as he told me.
    “Draw the light down through your body with your hand. Say
Malkuth.”
    I did so.
    “Now, draw the light across to your right shoulder.”
    I wasn’t concentrating properly, and touched my left shoulder by accident. I felt Neal grab my hand. I hadn’t realised how close he was standing. “No,” he said, “your right shoulder.” He moved my hand across firmly. For the next few passes, he kept his hopeful grip on my fingers, talking me through the ritual and standing uncomfortably close. He