Soul Sucker Ch. 21-30

"What do you mean?"

"George Hendersen fell off a ladder hanging Christmas lights last night and hurt his back. Now he can't fly to Denver for the Association of Certified Fraud Examiner's course starting Monday. You're going in his place."

"Wait a minute, that's a week-long course!"

"I know. A week in Aspen would suck, and it will get you out of here until this shooting thing blows over. I can swap the course and hotel registration, but you get your flights and a rental car."

"I'll take care of things." I hung up and responded to a few messages before Mary came out wearing only a towel. She looked at Heather, then handed me a condom as she sauntered by. She got to the bed and dropped the towel before tossing back the covers.

I was naked and sliding back inside her seconds later. Quietly, of course.

Chapter 28

John Miller's POV

Aspen, Colorado

Monday, December 5, 2022

I wasn't happy to be in the middle of this alpine paradise.

It's not that I'd never been skiing. I'd done some when I was younger at places out east like Killington and Sugarloaf. It was more that it wasn't good for me. As an old hockey player with more guts than brains, I rarely skied within my skill level. If I could make it through a blue (intermediate) run, I'd get on a black diamond (expert) next. If I survived that, I wanted to try a double black diamond (REAL experts). My body paid the price for my hubris, and I'd finally said 'enough' of skiing when I was thirty.

I wanted to stay home with my girlfriend and her daughter, but no dice. I picked up my packet from the girl at the door and went inside. Most students sitting around the tables were in their twenties or early thirties. I looked for the graybeard table near the front, where old eyes could read the screen and bad ears could hear, and grabbed a spot. "John Miller, from Manhattan Life," I said to the other four at the table.

"John? Holy shit! I didn't know you'd be here!" A guy in his early thirties with thick glasses and a double chin held out his hand. "Samuel Kincaid, from First Insurance. We talked last week."

"Yeah, Samuel, good to put a face with a name." I introduced myself to the other three; one worked for a law firm, while the other two were in health care. We talked briefly about our education and experience, and they were fascinated to hear I was a retired cop. "The guy scheduled to come fell off a ladder Saturday, so I'm here instead."

"This shouldn't be too bad a week. I've seen some of the idiots who graduated, after all." I looked down at the itinerary for the day; in the morning were introductions and Federal fraud statutes. Pretty dry, but the lunch and afternoon were free. The resort had complimentary lift tickets for us today, and most of the group was excited to be going.

Not Samuel. "Are you up for a little road trip instead of skiing? I'll buy lunch," he promised.

"What's going on?"

"Remember that case I asked you about? The woman buying the policy on her fiancé?"

I nodded. "Sure. What did your underwriters think of my idea to spread the first-year risk among one or more companies?"

"My bosses weren't willing to reject the policy, but he brought in another company for the first five years. Any guesses who?" I shrugged. "Manhattan Life is picking up ten million of the twenty-five."

"No shit?" The reinsurance market was strictly a financial risk play, with the lead company responsible for the vetting. It would never come across my desk.

"The insured party has their physical this afternoon in Denver. Since you are backing us on the policy, you can review the application on the drive there. We can meet the two, and if there are any red flags, we go back to our people and back out. If we both agree it's fishy, they won't be able to ignore us."

What the hell? It beat sitting in the hotel room. "I'm in."

The classes dragged on, made worse because I didn't want to be here. The course wasn't necessary to take the test, and I hated being in class. I'd only gotten my college degree because the team paid tutors to help me through. I passed my Detective test through the diligent study on my part and a trove of previous exams. I followed Samuel to his car when we broke for the day. That's where I found out my free 'lunch' was a McDonald's drive-through. "We don't have time for anything else," he justified.

I finished my Quarter Pounder with Cheese and sipped on a Diet Coke as I reviewed the file he'd given me. Landon Street looked like a good bet from an actuarial basis. Young, active, and from the pictures, in excellent physical condition. I looked over the addendum describing his rock climbing, using my phone to look up some of the terms used. He did bouldering and cliffs, mostly, and top-roped them. Most times, he used a guide. The combination was among the safer options, without the weather variables of mountain climbing or the unforgiveness of free climbing. Still, it was an inherently dangerous activity, so their actuaries calculated a premium surcharge.

"I still don't understand why the fiancé wants such a big policy on him," I said. "If he dies, she gets it all. No inheritance taxes. Even capital gains will be much less than the policy amount if she sells the crypto exchange."

"Maybe she's seen him climb," Samuel responded.

"Maybe. What do we know about the buyer?"

"It's in the back of the packet. There's not a lot on the web about Ingrid Anderson."

He had about twenty pages of material; government documents, news stories, and gossip rags. One article showed the pair in Denver. "Damn, she's easy on the eyes," I said as I looked at her photograph.

"If you like that Nordic ice goddess thing," Samuel replied.

I finished the file as we entered downtown Denver. "If I were in charge, I'd reject the policy just because it doesn't feel right."

"I can't put 'gut feel' in my recommendation, John."

"I know. Let's see what the happy couple is like in person." We arrived at the clinic, taking the elevator to the fifth-floor office of their contract doctor. Samuel checked with the desk; they had been in there for thirty minutes already. "The blood and urine samples are at the lab already, and the doctor should complete her examination in another ten to twenty minutes," the receptionist told us. "Barring any other required tests, you should get the report tonight since you paid the expediting fee. You can wait over there for them to finish."

It didn't take that long. The door opened, and the doctor led the couple back to the desk. Samuel stood up as they finished, and I stood to his left. Samuel took the lead. "Mr. Street? My name is Samuel Kincaid with First Insurance." He held out his hand, and Landon shook it. "My associate, John Miller."

Landon shook my hand, then introduced his fiancé. Samuel shook her hand, and then I held mine out. She looked scared as our eyes met, and then our fingers touched.

A shock passed between us, and my hand clamped closed on hers.

My stomach churned as I sensed the evil inside her.

I closed my eyes, still holding her hand. Through the blackness came a vision. I saw a woman with horns and bat-like wings riding naked on a man. Her giant tits bounced above her slim belly, and her black eyes with snake-like vertical slits glowed in the darkness.

I let go of her hand and embraced the darkness.

I felt something squeezing my arm tight in my dream. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the devil, and saw the side of a hospital bed instead. The squeezing lessened as I took in my surroundings. The bed rails and machines meant a hospital. I turned my head and blinked, making out the door and walls of the room.

What the hell happened when I touched her hand? Why did I get that vision, and why was I here now?

I found the red call button on the hospital bed rail and pressed it. I'd raised the bed until I was comfortable sitting up before the door opened and the nurse arrived. "Ah, you're awake. Good."

"Where am I?"

"Saint Joseph's Hospital. You're in the Intensive Care Unit," she replied.

"What happened?"

"You fainted and didn't wake up. I'll have the Doctor see you now that you're awake."

I looked at the clock. "Six-thirty? Morning or night?"

"Night. You've been unconscious since the ambulance brought you here."

She left, and the doctor came in shortly after. He gave me a neurological examination as he asked about the events at the clinic. "What happened, Doc?"

"I don't know yet," he told me. "Sudden loss of consciousness without trauma isn't common, and for you to be unconscious for hours is concerning. You don't have low blood pressure now, nor did you when the ambulance arrived. Your history doesn't point out any significant risk factors. I see no indications of a concussion or head injury, and the MRI we took while you were out was clean."

Great. "So what is next?"

"We'll keep you here overnight for observation, and I'll have our staff neurologist review your case."

Wonderful. "I need to make some phone calls. People are going to be worried." That couldn't happen under hospital rules, and they wouldn't release me from the ICU without a better diagnosis. Samuel was still in the waiting room, and I gave him a message for Mary.

I was stuck here until morning. There was no way I could tell the Doctors that I'd been scared to death by a demon manifesting from a young blonde woman I'd touched. That would be a one-way ticket to a seventy-two-hour psych hold.

Chapter 29

Ingrid Anderson (Frances Dortmund's) POV

Denver, Colorado

Monday, December 5, 2022

Landon's insurance physical went quickly, and the doctor assured us he was in great physical shape for a man his age. "I should get the test results back shortly, so if any issues arise, I will call you," she told him.

He checked the time and shook his head. "I can make the next meeting if I leave now. Can you get home from here?"

"I'll have my driver pick me up. I'll be fine," I replied as I took his hand.

"I'll call you when I can get away from the office, and we can meet for dinner." We followed the doctor out to the reception area.

"Mr. Street? My name is Samuel Kincaid with First Insurance." I turned around, unimpressed with the out-of-shape low-level flunky. Landon shook his extended hand. "My associate, John Miller."

I froze for a second, fear flushing through me at the name and then the recognition. I'd seen him as Jordyn Carter, but I was Ingrid now. I quickly recovered as Landon introduced me. I couldn't avoid shaking hands, first with Samuel.

Then my hand touched John's hand. My body reacted the same way to the shock that passed between us. A strange feeling went through my body, converging on my sex which was instantly ready.

My demon wanted nothing to do with this man, but he held my hand in a death grip.

His eyes were closed, and his face showed his fear of me, but he didn't let go. He pulled me to the ground as he collapsed, and I landed awkwardly on top of him. "INGRID!"

"I'm all right," I replied. John finally released my hand, and Landon helped me to my feet as the doctor went to John's side. "Give them room."

The receptionist made a 'Code Blue' announcement as the Doctor checked his airway, breathing, and pulse. A nurse arrived with a crash cart a minute later, but John still wasn't moving. "We should go," Landon said.

"Yeah. There's nothing we can do to help." We walked to the elevator, moving out of the way as more medical personnel rushed to the office. I said goodbye to Landon as we reached the lobby, and he continued down to the parking garage. I called my son as I walked to the couches near the door. "Lonnie, I need you to pick me up. We've got a problem."

My son arrived outside ten minutes later. The Jaguar convertible was in the garage for the winter, so he had a Mercedes Defender. I slumped into the heated seat and closed my eyes. "You're shaking," he commented. "What's going on?"

"John Miller came to Denver to see me."

"John Miller? The guy from Manhattan Life who was poking into Jordyn's claim?"

"Yes. John and a guy from First Insurance were waiting for us when we left the doctor's office after Landon's physical."

"Fuck." I let him mull it over as he drove through the downtown streets. "Why would John be there? We intentionally went to a different company this time."

"He told me in Indianapolis that he was looking into the substantial term life policy, recently purchased, without a clear cause of death. If he suspects a Black Widow, he probably is looking at new policies by fiances or newly married. Fraud investigators share information, and now I'm on his radar."

Lonnie tapped nervously on the steering wheel. "We could pull the plug. Disappear and lay low for a year or two."

"There's more," I told him. "When I shook hands with him as Jordyn, a shock passed between us. I felt an instant attraction and arousal to the touch, but my demon recoiled. I didn't touch him again."

"Weird."

"Today's meeting was worse. I had to shake hands, and when we touched? I got the same feeling. Miller had a much stronger reaction than before. He closed his eyes and shook like he was having a nightmare, then passed out cold. He never let go, so I got dragged on top of him. When we left the office a few minutes later, he was still unconscious as they called for an ambulance."

"Damn. Was it your demon? Did he do something to attack John?"

"Not that I know of. I've never had that reaction to anyone before." We pulled into the parking garage but didn't talk again until we were safely inside our home. "I need you to look into John Miller using any means necessary. We have to know what he suspects, what he knows, and who he's working with."

"I'll buff up the file I have on him. How far do you want me to go?"

"Whatever it takes. I can't have this guy poking around after Landon is gone."

He nodded. "To do it right, I'll have to go to New York and break into his apartment. I'll hack his computer and access his work account from there. I can also see if he has any notes or files on you and plant some bugs. We'll figure out what he knows."

"Get the tickets and get there before he returns home."

"I'm on it. What are you going to do, Mom?"

I headed towards my office. "I'm going to figure out why John reacted that way." I sat at my desk, closing my eyes against the afternoon sun. "What happened back there," I asked my demon. He'd been strangely quiet since the encounter.

"He is dangerous! Never touch him again!"

"Why? What is he?"

"I don't know, but he can sense me inside you. If he can find me, he can kill me. And you know what happens if he kills me, don't you?"

How could I forget the sight of that poor woman aging decades in seconds before dying?

"I'll stop him if he comes near us again," I promised. I didn't need this complication with the wedding coming so quickly.

I fired up the computer and started to search for people who could see demons. Some called it the gift of discernment, while others called them seers. They could see spiritual forms to some extent. For an unlucky few, they saw the spirit world all the time, as clearly as the real world. They were often misunderstood, attacked, or institutionalized. After all, mortals aren't designed to see those things.

For others, the sight was temporary or limited. I suspected that was what John's gift was, a sight that activated on physical contact. I could tell when he looked at me that he didn't recognize me. He maintained contact with me for over five seconds, and the reaction worsened with each second. If my demon was right, did he see my Succubus form?

Every other victim was looking at my real-life shape while John's eyes were closed. The facial expressions were the same.

How would John Miller react to seeing a demon? That was the question I had to answer, and fast.

I called around to find out where John's ambulance had taken him. It was time to get some answers.

Chapter 30

John Miller's POV

Denver, Colorado

Tuesday, December 5, 2022

Poked, prodded, scanned, interviewed, and monitored. By noon, the doctors still had no idea why I passed out and remained unconscious for hours. The cardiologist ordered a tilt test where I laid flat in a bed, then raised it to near-standing while the EKG and vitals sensors ran. The test ruled out blood pressure changes or heart conditions being the cause.

The neurologist was next. He gave me a thorough neurological test while I sat on the bed, then covered my test results. The MRI showed no causal evidence of stroke, brain damage, or epilepsy that could result in the prolonged attack. "Sudden loss of consciousness scenarios are typically brief, lasting only a few seconds. Lacking head trauma, an episode lasting more than a minute is rare." Doctor Petersen told me as he sat by my bed. "Your case is interesting due to the hours of unconsciousness and the lack of causal physical symptoms. The clinic started monitoring your vitals within a minute. Your blood pressure and heart rate were significantly elevated initially before returning to normal, yet you didn't wake."

"I felt fine up to the event, and I feel fine now," I replied. "I've never had this happen before, and I have no idea what caused this."

"Have you lost consciousness before?"

"Sure, many times," I told him. "You don't fight MMA without getting choked out on occasion. It's never been for more than a few seconds, though. I was knocked out cold playing high school hockey and got hit with a two-by-four in the back of the head while on patrol once." We discussed my hobby and training with the Boston Police, plus my hockey career. "How many concussions would you say you have had?"

"Three diagnosed, those two and once after a college hockey game. I bet there were another three to five that weren't," I said. "Nobody wants to come out of the game just because they got their bell rung."

"When was your last fight?"

"Saturday afternoon. The referee stopped the fight in the second round after I knocked him on his ass."

"Did you take any hits to the head or neck?"

I nodded. "My defense was good, so nothing was hard enough to hurt me."

He made a few notes. "Are you aware of the effects of concussions on the health of your brain?"

I nodded. "I've seen the stories about it."

He brought up one of my scans on his tablet computer. "The MRI showed potential scarring in your brain that could be from previous trauma. The damage is old and outside those brain areas related to sleep and cardiac function, but it is concerning. I would strongly recommend changing your training to eliminate sparring and cranial impacts. The grappling shouldn't be an issue, but the effects of the impacts are cumulative."

It was another one of those things that I loved that I couldn't do anymore, and that hurt. "I understand. Thanks, Doc."

After lunch, they brought in the shrink. "The other doctors are unable to find a physical cause for your episode, so they've asked me to speak to you about other possibilities," Dr. Howard said. "Have you ever had a panic attack, John?"

"Not that I know of. I've been in a lot of high-stress situations in my life but had nothing more than the adrenaline crash."

"Tell me about the most recent one."

I told him the story about the robbery on Saturday. "The whole time I sat at the table, I was calm and focused. I kept my girlfriend behind me, and her daughter was safe out of sight. The police were coming soon, so I figured the punks would give up or run off. When he opened up with the shotgun, I took him out fast. The part that worried me was when the cops rushed the door."

"Why?"

"I don't have a badge, guns are involved, and accidents can happen. The officers secured the scene and figured out what happened. When the adrenaline crash came, I knew how to deal with it."