She took a step back from him. “What are you saying? That it’s okay that this angel is killing people at my school?”
Sunlight looked genuinely surprised. “What? No, of course not. I’m sorry, Dana. I’m still a little rattled, too. What I meant is that if you truly saw Lucifer, then you were not seeing the creature responsible for these tragic murders.”
“Then…?”
“That’s why I want you to try to remember the face you saw behind the mask of the angel. I suspect that someone is projecting the image of Lucifer in order to both confuse you and disguise his true face.”
“Project? How?”
Sunlight raised his arms to indicate the Chrysalis Room. “In the same way that we flew into outer space, Dana. Whoever is doing this is like us. He is a powerful psychic.”
It stunned her for a full five seconds, but then she began to nod. It made sense, though in a crooked, awkward way. The floor beneath her feet still seemed ready to tilt, and even though the pear had helped a little, her brain felt like it was filled with cotton candy, angry bees, and sharp thorns. She imagined this was what being drunk must feel like, and she decided right there and then that she wanted no part of any real disorientation. Meditative freakiness was plenty, thank you very much.
“Look, there’s something I haven’t told you,” said Dana, “but I think I know something about the killings that even the sheriff’s department doesn’t know.”
Sunlight narrowed his eyes. “How?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, “but I think Maisie Bell was killed in a way that was supposed to reproduce the wounds of Jesus.” She explained about the wrists, feet, and other injuries. Sunlight looked grave.
“I … don’t know what to say about that,” he said.
“What could it mean, though?” she asked. “Why would someone want to do something like that?”
Sunlight shook his head slowly. “It’s hard to say. Maybe he doesn’t understand what he’s doing.”
“No,” insisted Dana. “I think he knows exactly what he’s doing, but I don’t know why. What does he get out of imitating the way Jesus died? Is it some kind of blasphemy thing?”
“No,” said Sunlight firmly. “No, more likely it is because this … person … feels that he has a connection of great importance to Jesus Christ. That, perhaps, he is like him in some way. Who knows, he might even believe he is honoring his victims by giving them the same wounds as Christ.”
“That’s sick.”
“Probably not according to the world as he sees it. Can you remember his face?” asked Sunlight. “Can you still see it?”
She closed her eyes and almost immediately lost her balance. She stumbled, and Sunlight caught her with a slender but surprisingly strong hand. The floor gradually, reluctantly steadied beneath her.
“Almost,” she said. “I can almost see him.…”
“Try,” he urged.
She did try. Dana let Sunlight steady her balance as she once more closed her eyes and willed herself to reopen that page of her recent memory. She could see the beautiful face of the angel, and despite everything Sunlight had said, the creature still terrified her, but she endured it because she had to know what face was hidden by the image of Lucifer.
She tried and tried.
But the harder she grabbed at the memory, the more surely and completely it drifted backward into darkness.
She opened her eyes and sighed. And for a moment she leaned her head against Sunlight’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Sunlight stroked her hair the way her father sometimes used to when Dana woke from a nightmare. It made her feel safe, protected. She could not imagine Sunlight allowing anyone or anything to hurt her.
“It’s okay, Dana,” he said as he pushed her gently to arm’s length and looked down at her. “We can try again another time.”
Tears, unexpected and red hot, rolled down her cheeks. “But … but I have to try again now. Let’s start again. I can’t just stop. Not when I’m this close to knowing who the killer is. I can’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but this kind of thing drains a person. You’ll be out of it for a couple of hours. You should go home and lie down. I’m going to soak in a tub and then eat a couple of pounds of protein.” He gave a small laugh. “We may only wear these suits of flesh and bone, but the body has limitations. We have to honor that. So, no, as much as we both want to know the truth, it is simply not possible right now. We’re both exhausted, and that makes it highly dangerous.”
“But—”
“Go home, Dana. Wait, here, take this,” he said, and took six sticks of the special incense, wrapped them in a silk handkerchief, and gave them to her. “It’ll help you center yourself. Light one and meditate, or just light it and sleep. It’s better than chamomile tea for soothing jangled nerves. Go on, take them. Good. Now, we should leave it all here for now. We can’t do what we can’t do.”
And that was it.