Now that the netherworld had swallowed her tempestuous baby right in front of her very eyes she had no more doubts. Something, somewhere, perhaps on the other side had him marked. That much was certain. She thought about his tender embrace. She thought about the hurt he had caused. His drunken affairs were too much to bear. Swinging his fists about. Stumbling to the floor in a drunken stupor. Red faced and pale, hanging on to a thread of his own sanity. Something had him.
She thought about the ways he always made her smile. He was a double-edged knife. He was the rush of peaks and he was the death and decay of valleys. To Fallon, Domingo was second to none for a spell – so, his vanishing came coupled with a sense of relief.
When will he be back? Will he be back? Maybe he transported somewhere else temporarily. How would she ever begin to explain this phenomenon to her mother. To her kids? The question had burned in the back of her mind for days. Her interactions with Shasta would only confirm this sense that Domingo had been possessed by a demonic entity. Her curly brown hair and bright blue eyes spoke for her with loads of understanding. “In a world as crazy as this, it would be foolish to think that there’s anything less than a spirit realm.” She’d say. You can’t have all of this stuff, you know, miracles, black holes, and babbies being born every minute. You can’t have of that without a spirit realm.”
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