Chapter 3: Deal with the Devil

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If Kate had the ability to teleport to someplace much more peaceful and quiet, now would have been the time. Between John's screaming as he practiced a new spell and the fact that his music was on so loud that she could barely hear her own thoughts, she would've killed for a minute of quiet. Or at least for John not to be butt naked and covered in blood. It made doing yoga a far less pleasing experience.

"Hey, Kate."

She opened one eye to find Zed and Chas standing there. She closed it once more as she moved into the next position. "I figured it wouldn't take you long to find us. Giving her the grand tour, Chas?"

"Yeah," he replied. "You weren't kidding when you said she was persistent."

"Wait until you see her party trick."

"How are you able to relax right now?" Zed asked her, no doubt referring to the onslaught of obnoxious stimuli brought on by their mutual friend.

"I'm picturing kicking John's ass," she said, going into another position. "It's a very calming image. Chas, I'll be done in a minute. Then maybe we can remind John not to summon demons in the house."

Kate paced the edge of the table, arms folded over her chest and attention shifting between the maps and Zed. She didn't know what she expected of Zed following their little chat in the bar, but she could tell that now, having found the Mill House, there was no way John was going to be able to deter her from helping them. All she hoped was that this wouldn't be one of those times where John grew to regret having let someone else join the fray.

"Much better look," she teased, spotting John as he moved, thankfully fully clothed, into the room.

"Right," he said, moving to the table, ignoring her dig. Kate finally stopped pacing, moved to stand on the free side of the table, opposite Zed. "Each one of these stigmata represents a place where something bad is going down. Supernatural brushfires, if you will. Me, Chas, Kate, and a few others? We're the bucket brigade."

"Or occasional well-oiled fire brigade," Kate added.

"Is this your latest fire?" Zed asked, looking towards the newspaper.

Kate felt a tug in her chest. Despite John not elaborating on the job she could tell it was affecting him.

"Bernie was a friend of mine. No way in hell he'd take his own life."

"Doesn't mean his death was one of your stigmata," said Zed reasonably.

"Bernie lived in the Windy City. And I don't believe in coincidences. Go on then. See if you get a hit," said John, hands firmly placed in his pockets.

Kate shared a quick look with Chas, could see the mild concern for the whole situation, for John, written in the look that he cast briefly towards their friend.

Zed carefully put one hand on the newspaper, the other on the stigmata that covered Chicago on the map. She looked between the two as if trying to establish some kind of connection, and then slowly glanced around. The woman gave a sharp intake of breath, her attention caught by something that none of them could see but her.

"I smell jasmine," she told them.

"She's a regular psychic smorgasbord, this one. Picks up impressions from tactile stimuli. Which I'm guessing is kind of a buzzkill in the sack," said John, causing Kate to, not so gently, knock his arm.

"It's cold!" said Zed, turning back to them and rubbing her arms.

"All right. Well, we'll let you know if any of that pans out," John assured her, nodding briefly to Kate before starting to move out of the room.

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