Riding once more in the back seat of the Impala, Tabitha read lore books trying to figure out what she could about Ragarus. Her own experience with them had been limited to the carnage she’d seen in Nebraska on the case where she’d met Collin years before.
She was inclined to agree with Travis and Dean about what had to be done with Jack—tragic or not—but she wouldn’t turn down her younger brother’s request that they find out more. Death was permanent. And if they could research and find something else to help the otherwise painfully normal Jack, she was willing to put in the time. And the headaches of trying to read in a moving vehicle.
“What is that?” Sam suddenly asked from the front seat, setting his own research down, and turning the radio down to listen to the faint sound. “Is that a phone ringing?” he continued as he opened the glove box and searched through the phones there.
Tabitha paused in her intent task, listening as well.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, dropping her work and pawing through her large handbag as she told them, “It’s my personal cell.”
Dean glanced at her in the review, but didn’t slow down his speed. They’d been coming back from supper after surveilling Jack-the-could-be-Rugaru and then gathering research material to look up more information on whether or not Jack could keep from fully transforming into a man-eating monster.
“Hey Cheryl,” Tabitha spoke into her phone, seeing the name on her display. “What’s up?”
“Tabitha,” Cheryl sighed, sounding relieved. “I’m so glad I finally got a hold of you.”
Tabitha sat up straighter in the back seat. “Why? What’s wrong, Cheryl?”
But her friend and coworker kept talking as if she hadn’t heard her. “I’ve been calling your FBI number for hours. I finally decided to try your personal cell on the off chance you were still using it,” she babbled.
“Cheryl!” Tabitha called, trying to rein in her friend. “What’s wrong? Why have you been trying to reach me?”
The woman sputtered on the other end of the line, seeming to stop and start several times, unsure where to start.
“Start at the beginning,” she calmly told her friend, her unease building by the second. Cheryl wasn’t normally prone to hysterics. She was generally a calm and collected agent. One of the reasons they had built a loose friendship. Cheryl worked in a different division, but out of the same office, so they often got together when they were both around. In fact, they both lived outside of Richmond in Varina, just down the same street from each other. Cheryl had helped her find the modest but well-kept house, and they looked after each other’s homes more often than they were both around to see each other.
She heard Cheryl sigh deeply on the other end. “Well, I thought about calling you a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t want to disturb you if it turned out to be nothing—”
“If what turned out to be nothing?” Tabitha interrupted in frustration.
“OPR has been in the Richmond office for almost two weeks,” Cheryl hissed through the phone line. “And it took a while, but I finally got one of those guys to tell me who they’re looking into. He didn’t think it was a big deal telling me since I’m not in Violent Crimes but in Victim Services—”
Tabitha hissed back at her, “Who Cheryl? Who are they looking into?”
“They’re looking into Casey. Going through old case files, and they’re looking for something, missing case files I think. And only one reason they wouldn’t have called his partner in, too.” She had trailed off, letting Tabitha draw her own conclusion.
“They’re looking into me, as well,” Tabitha absently supplied.
The line was silent for a minute as Tabitha digested the info.
“Wait, you said they’ve been there for almost two weeks, why have you suddenly been so frantic to get a hold of me?” she wondered.
“Oh, oh!” Cheryl suddenly exclaimed. “Because someone broke into your place earlier tonight. Your next door neighbor called me because they knew you were out of town, so I went over there.”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know your place that well, Tabitha. It’s one hell of a mess besides, so I can’t say. Looks more like someone was looking for something. Electronics and jewelry all seemed to still be there.”
As she spoke, Tabitha’s stomach began to feel like it was descending into a pit, her unease ratcheting up as she scrambled for what someone could have been looking for in her house. She didn’t have anything of real value, and couldn’t think of anything all that important either.
“But that’s not all,” Cheryl was going on in hurried tones. “I was checking the police reports to see if this was a string of break-ins or anything, and I found out that Casey’s apartment in the city had been broken into hours before yours. Something’s going on; someone’s looking for something and thinks you’ve got it.” There was silence on the line for a minute. And then her friend and colleague whispered, “What’s going on, Tabitha? What were you and Casey involved in?”
“I figured Casey’s parents would have emptied his place out by now,” Tabitha absently spoke.
Cheryl answered hurriedly. “His parents weren’t ready to go through it yet or something. What’s going on?” she repeated.
Her head fell forward against the front seat as Tabitha heaved a sigh. “I don’t know Cheryl, but I’ll look into it. Thanks for calling me with the heads up.”
She hung up as Cheryl sputtered a reply, and hit ignore when the woman immediately tried calling back.
“Pull over,” she directed her brother as she pointed over his shoulder at a side street.
Dean did so, but immediately whipped around in the driver’s seat to face his sister. “What’s going on, Tab?”
She began gathering her things and shoving her loose belongings into her handbag as she answered. “Look, I’m not sure what’s going on. OPR is in Richmond looking into my old partner. And me, too, apparently since I haven’t been called in yet. Something about case files or missing case files. And to top it off, someone broke into his place and mine tonight.”
“‘OPR?'” Sam repeated, as Tabitha grabbed her purse and the briefcase with her laptop, scrambling out of the car.
“Office of Professional Responsibility,” she off-handedly answered as she reached for the trunk. “Our version of Internal Affairs. Dean! Pop the trunk.”
The brothers had followed her out of the car, and Dean used his keys to open the trunk.
“So what are you doing?” Dean asked as he stepped back. “Would this OPR have gone through your place like that?”
Tabitha shook her head as she grabbed her bags from the trunk along with a slim jim from Dean’s goodies under the false bottom. “No. They’d use subpoenas, not break in. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve got to find out.”
Her brothers followed her to the nondescript, older tan sedan they’d parked behind on the street, Dean’s hand shooting out to stop hers as she stepped up to the driver’s door with the slim jim.
“You sure you should be doing this?” he asked. “Maybe you should wait until we can come with you when we’ve finished with this Rugaru business.”
She turned to look into their eyes, “Look, you guys have got to stay and deal with Jack, keep watching him. I can’t wait that long. I need to figure out what they were looking for at my place, and I can’t let that trail get too cold. Besides, you guys can’t be in Richmond with Feds running around. I’ll take care of this and I’ll keep in touch, okay? Maybe I’ll meet back up with you down here.”
Dean looked reluctant, and even Sam seemed worried.
“What if something more is going on?” Sam pushed. “Richmond’s a long ways from here. We wouldn’t be able to get there very quickly.”
“I doubt if monsters are looking through my place for casework, and something tells me the missing files OPR is looking for is related to the break-in at my house. I’ll be okay. But I have to check into this. Casey was a good agent, and he doesn’t deserve to have his name tarnished.”
Dean released her hand and stepped back. “Fine,” he told her. “But soon as we’re done, we’re heading for Richmond, no matter what you say. And you call me every two hours to check in.”
Tabitha laughed as she quickly and efficiently broke into the sedan, manipulating the slim jim with practiced hands and then handing the tool back to her brother. “I’ll be fine Dean. You said yourself that when you were sent back in time that Mom and all the Campbells were hunters. We’re tough; it’s in our blood.”
Her brothers stood by as she reached under the steering column with a knife and quickly hot-wired the car, heading back to the Impala as she drove off. Each of the cars turned and headed in different directions. Each for their own set of problems.
“Sam, I’ve called and left a message on Dean’s phone, too. You guys are starting to worry me,” Tabitha rambled into her cellphone as she pulled up in front of the Richmond FBI offices. “I’m finally here. I decided to head to the office first and see what I can find there while nobody’s around. Should be relatively safe.” Uncomfortable silence lapsed. “Well, call me back. Or I’ll worry.”
She hung up her cellphone as she reached down, pulling apart the spliced together wires to shut off the car and climbing out into the cool night air. It had taken her sixteen straight hours of driving, but she’d finally reached Richmond at a little after eleven at night to find the empty parking lot. She briefly considered changing into work clothes, but it wouldn’t have been the first time she showed up late at night to get some paperwork in her jeans and a sweatshirt.
She started to step away from the car, but couldn’t get over the uneasy feeling churning in her stomach, so she pulled her phone out again, and dialed a number she had called only the day before.
“Tabitha. To what do I owe the pleasure? I’m guessing you’re not calling to check on me again, not at this hour.”
Tabitha sighed, kicking a stone across the pavement. “How’d you know it was me, Pam?”
The woman laughed slightly. “Psychic, remember. Now, what’s troubling you? I can hear it in your voice. No special abilities needed.”
“I don’t know,” Tabitha confessed, glancing at the darkened brick building. “Bad feeling, I guess. I think I was hoping you could tell me if I’m just being paranoid, or if something more is going on.”
Pamela was silent on the other end. Slowly, she replied, “Well, I can look into it. Put some feelers out; see what the ether has to say. Why don’t you give me an hour or so and hold tight?”
Tabitha nodded to herself. “Sounds good, Pam. And thanks. I’ll just head into the office to look up a few things while I wait to hear from you.”
“Now, hold on,” Pamela interrupted. “I said to hold tight. Just wait until I take a look before you do anything.”
Turning, Tabitha leaned down against the roof of the tan sedan. “I need to get moving on this, Pam. I’m already behind on the trail.”
Silence stretched again.
“Look,” Pamela finally began. “I don’t know what it is you’re looking for or into, and I don’t need to know to make some inquiries, but I’ll tell you this: Trust your instincts. If you’ve got an uneasy feeling about this, there’s probably good reason. I’ll call you back when I find something.”
As the line went dead, she stood and considered her friend’s warning, but knew she couldn’t let the trail get cold. It had already been over twenty-four hours since her house and Casey’s place had been broken into.
Decision made, she calmly walked to the front door, entered her passcode, and was mildly shocked when it buzzed her through the front doors. Of course, that was just the main door. Far from the building’s only level of security.
One of the guards looked up from the security desk as she walked through the inner glass doors.
“Hey, Jerry!” she called warmly to the middle-aged guard who glanced up with a startled expression.
“Agent Winchester, what are you doing here?” he sputtered as he dropped his boots from the desk and sprang to his feet. “I hadn’t been told you were off leave yet.”
Tabitha bypassed the metal detectors, walking around them to step behind the desk with Jerry. She gave a startled Jerry a quick hug as she said, “No, I’m not back quite yet. But I’m working on it. That’s actually why I’m here. I have some paperwork to fill out before I can come back, and I never brought it with me from my office when I left. So I just need to run up and grab it. How is Sandy by the way? And Mikey? Wasn’t he going to graduate from UV back in May? How’d that go?”
Jerry smiled and puffed up. Proudly saying, “Oh, the family’s all good. Sandy’s been missing you though, been asking me when you were going to come back so she could send you some more casseroles; try to fill you out so you can find a husband.” He smiled almost cheekily as he said it, enjoying their usual banter. “But she’s been missing the cookies you usually make me. And I’ll admit, I have been, too.”
Tabitha smiled easily as she edged around Jerry behind the desk. “And what about Mikey? Did he graduate in May? Find a job?”
Jerry didn’t seem to notice that she was maneuvering behind his desk to avoid the metal detectors. Or seem to notice that anything at all was amiss. “He sure did. Did his old man proud, that’s for sure. And got a great job for some software company out in California. I don’t pretend to understand what it is he does. But he says he loves it and makes good money. So me and Sandy won’t complain.” He beamed as he said it, his pride in his son shining in his eyes.
“Well that’s great,” Tabitha told him. “I’ll have to catch up with you and Sandy some night.”
She kept moving, but Jerry suddenly stepped towards her, his face unsure.
“Tabitha,” he began. “I haven’t heard that you were back from leave, yet. You sure you can be in the building late at night like this.”
She smiled confidently as she walked backwards away from him. “Yeah, it’s no problem, Jerry. Besides, I’m just grabbing some paperwork. In and out. You know how the Bureau is with their paperwork. Got to have it done.”
Jerry finally nodded. “Well, if you’re sure. Don’t want to see you delayed by some silly paperwork in coming back to work.”
He smiled happily again as he turned back to his desk, propping his feet up once more as he resumed his place in what she was sure was some travel magazine. Jerry loved to look at the pictures of far off places, even though he never travelled much beyond Virginia himself.
Seeing that Jerry was occupied with his magazine and didn’t seem to be paying her any mind, Tabitha turned and quietly jogged for the stairs. She knew Jerry wouldn’t think it unusual—she often took the stairs instead of the elevator—and this way he wouldn’t see what floor she got off on unless he was watching his monitors. And Jerry trusted her enough not to pay attention.
She silently thanked Casey as she jogged to the third and top floor, her hands briefly checking to ensure her Glock 23 was still tucked into the waistband at her back. It had been his tutelage that had taught her to make friends with the people who were in this building the most. He’d always said an agent would never know when they might need a favor or the trust of the people who were truly important around the office.
“Thank you, Casey,” she whispered as she quietly opened the doors to the third floor. “You were sure as hell right.”
Soft lights lit the main open area of the third floor, rows of desks and computers filling the area. She knew the floor was empty, but moved silently through the room anyway. Jerry wasn’t the only security guard that worked the nightshift, but she knew the other roaming guards would mostly be down on the first floor. They didn’t come up to the other floors but a few times a night.
Finding the desk she was looking for, Tabitha sat down and turned on the desk lamp, glancing cautiously around as she did so. As she waited for the computer to power on, she could only hope that Catherine hadn’t changed her passcodes in the last five months. The woman was a shameless flirt around the office, and more than a little careless when she entered her codes, not even trying to block the view of her typing.
But as Tabitha entered the passcode and entered the system, she was more than pleased with the woman’s carelessness.
Still, she shook her head and chuckled, “Sloppy, Catherine. You’re supposed to change them way more often than this.”
Tabitha knew she didn’t have time to waste, so she quickly searched the mainframe, trying to figure out what files OPR had recently been trying to access. When she found the log, she saw that they had been looking into hers and Casey’s last cases. Their next to last, most specifically.
But Tabitha couldn’t find the files. None of the electronic copies seemed to be in the system. None of the transcripts. None of the pictures. Nothing.
Who could have so thoroughly erased them? she wondered.
She was by no means a computer whiz, but covering for her brothers over the years had meant that Tabitha had learned a few tricks when it came to erasing files from the FBI system. And one thing she knew, there was always a log of the last person to access or alter a file in the system. And it stayed there unless you corrupted or erased the log as well.
She froze as she pulled up the log. “Oh Casey, what did you do?” she whispered when she saw his login as the last user to alter the files for the missing casework.
“What are you doing up here?”
Tabitha jumped at the sudden question, automatically closing out of the system, and logging off the computer as she stood and faced the man across the way in the large open room.
“Tyler. What are you doing here so late?” she asked the other agent in surprise as she casually sat on the edge of the desk she’d been sitting at.
Tyler Barrett crossed his arms over his habitual gray suit, what Tabitha always assumed must have been one of ten identical suits. “Came to get a file I left up here and saw the light on. What are you doing at Agent Summer’s desk?” he demanded.
Tabitha smiled as she looked down at the desk under her hip. “Is this Catherine’s desk? You know, they all look alike to me. Must have forgotten what mine looks like,” she laughed.
“Yours is down on two. In your office. What the hell are you doing up here? You shouldn’t even be in the building,” he continued in uncompromising tones.
She raised her hands in a motion of surrender. “Easy, Barrett. I just came to get some paperwork, too. Nothing to get worked up over.” As she answered, she began moving towards the outer wall of the room, intending to work her way to the main doors behind him so she could leave before any more suspicions were raised.
“Sure you were,” he said sarcastically, turning with her movements and placing himself more squarely in her path. “But I heard you were being looked into by the OPR. So what are you doing snooping around here in the middle of the night? Maybe I should give those OPR agents a call.”
Tabitha paused her advance, growing uneasy at his words. “Where’d you hear something so ridiculous?” she laughed it off.
“Just the rumor going around.”
Tabitha froze as she stared at Barrett, her heart rate kicking up as she stared at the agent she was only passingly familiar with. Like Cheryl, he worked in a different division.
But while Tabitha hadn’t been the slightest bit surprised to hear that her friend had weaseled something out of the tightlipped OPR, she couldn’t believe that Barrett would be able to do the same. Cheryl was beauty queen beautiful, quite literally a former teen Miss Georgia or something in her youth, and she had no qualms about using her beauty to charm information out of men. But Barrett was lazy as an agent, too lazy to even keep up on water-cooler gossip, let alone be prying something classified out of OPR.
And his attitude wasn’t in sync. He was lazy, but mostly easy-going. Got along with most everyone, and never rocked the boat. And no way would he come back to the office in the middle of the night for any kind of file or paperwork.
Smoothly drawing her gun, Tabitha held Barrett in her sights as she calmly asked, “Who are you?”
His eyes flashed to black for just a moment as the demon grinned at her. “Friend of a friend you could say,” the demon laughed.
He wasn’t the slightest bit concerned about the gun aimed on him, but then again, Tabitha knew he had no reason to be. A lead bullet would do nothing to a demon. But she edged closer to the door near him, having no other choice but to get to the stairwell and escape.
“What do you want?” she asked as she held her gun steady.
“Why, you, of course. At least, the boss does. But it’s simply too bad you didn’t bring your brothers along. That would have been icing on the cake,” he told her, merely watching as she carefully came closer.
“Oh yeah? Who’s your boss? I’d like to know who I should send my regrets to,” she steadily told him, eyes darting between the demon and the glass doors.
“I’m afraid you won’t be able to send your regrets. You’ll have to settle for giving them in person,” he grinned.
Tabitha was almost to the doors, just turning towards them as she felt the sharpness of a cold blade press to her throat from behind.
“Hold still and I won’t have to hurt you,” Jerry instructed, his breath hot in her ear as he yanked her against his chest. “Boss doesn’t want you hurt. Yet.”
“Jerry,” she whispered mournfully.
“Didn’t think I was the only demon in the building, did you?” the demon wearing Barrett laughed.
Tabitha had lowered her gun to her side at the feel of the knife pressed to her throat, but hadn’t dropped it.
Barrett stepped closer with his hand held out. “Give me the gun, Tabitha dear. You won’t be needing it,” he commanded.
“Kiss my ass,” Tabitha snarled back.
Barrett’s face twisted as he stepped to her, grabbing her shoulder as he pulled her closer, trying to wrench the gun away.
Tabitha used the two demon’s grip on her to her advantage, leaning back into Jerry with her upper body as she raised her feet between the two, and kicking away from Barrett’s chest with all the strength in her legs.
Barrett stumbled back away from her, his grip slipping from her arm as Jerry stumbled backwards into the glass doors, shattering them as the two fell through and onto the cold linoleum floor amidst the glass.
Tabitha rolled away from Jerry, knocking the knife from his hand with a sidekick as she rolled to her feet.
Shots rang out, forcing Tabitha to crouch low to the ground, raising her own gun, and firing back at Barrett, watching as he stumbled backwards as her shots struck him.
Suddenly, Jerry barreled into her, trying to knock her gun away and grab her. But the force of the hit knocked Tabitha from her feet as she twisted and tumbled down the stairs, pain exploding in her arm as she tried to curl into herself as she rolled roughly down the stairs with Jerry, shots still ringing out in the darkness of the FBI office.
The pair landed in a heap on the landing between the second and third floors. Gasping for breath, and her body screaming in pain, Tabitha tried to roll over and keep her wits, but the demon in Jerry meant he regained his footing from the tumble faster than she had.
Crouching over her, he advanced with his hands held out before him to grab at her. Pulling her knees to her chest, Tabitha waited until he almost had grabbed her shoulders before she kicked out with her legs, heaving all of her muscles into shoving the portly Jerry backwards against the floor-length window on the landing, all while firing several more shots into the security guard.
Jerry stumbled backwards and hit the window, and then, almost in slow motion, the already cracked glass riddled with bullet holes, gave way, shattering outward as Jerry fell with it.
Tabitha didn’t wait to listen to the sound of him hitting the ground, but crawled further away from the stairs, just scooting around the corner of the stairwell as more bullets hit the floor of the landing where she’d been.
She pushed with her hands to regain her feet, but one arm gave way beneath her, blood from glass cuts dotting both hands.
“This would be easier on you if you’d just come quietly!” Barrett yelled out from the top of the stairs. “But if I have to shoot you a few times, so be it!”
Tabitha pushed to her feet with her right hand, glancing up through the narrow opening in the stairwell where Barrett stared down at her. “Never said I liked things easy!” she yelled back, limping down the next half-flight of stairs as she heard pounding feet following after her.
She knew she’d never make it all the way down to the main floor and out the door before Barrett caught up to her limping pace, so she pushed through the doors to the second floor and limped down the hallway to the right. This floor was lined with office doors on each side of the hall. Where more senior agents, or those on more prestigious teams, had private offices.
As she’d passed the main doors of the second floor, she replaced her gun at the small of her back and grabbed the pole in the corner with the Virginia state flag, carrying it with her as she entered the door to her own office. She quietly slid the door shut as she melted to the floor just inside the door, pushing the chairs along the wall out of her way as she tore the flag from the standard.
Her hands were still bleeding from the glass cuts as she pressed the flag to the blood on her hands, but she knew Jerry had taken the brunt of going through the glass door. Her real concern was that she hadn’t been able to put weight on her left hand or grip with it. Pulling back the sleeve of her worn Stanford sweatshirt, she could see that it was already badly swollen, all the way down to her wrist and fingers.
She wiggled her fingers, and though she had to bit off a curse, she was able to move them and turn her arm and wrist when she concentrated, though the pain made her stomach roll and pitch. She knew the bone was fractured from the sheer pain and how quickly it had swollen, but at least it wasn’t so bad to be a broken compound fracture.
“It doesn’t have to be this way!” Barrett called out in the hallway, seeming to know she was on the second floor. “Just come on out, and I’ll bring you to the boss. No one else has to get hurt. Or… we can keep playing these games, and I can jump from meat-sack to meat-sack, until I’ve used up everyone you ever knew!”
Gripping the pole in her hand, Tabitha breathed raggedly and waited.
Like a bloodhound, Barrett seemed to know right where she was, her door slamming open as he raced into the room.
Tabitha swung the pole out low across the doorway with both hands, screaming out in pain as Barrett barreled into it and tripped headfirst into her office, sprawling across the corner of her desk as Tabitha crawled on her knees and one hand. She sobbed as she cradled her left arm to her stomach, scooting around her desk to kick Barrett’s gun away from his reach, and then rolling towards the wall as he pushed away from the desk, trying to follow her.
But he stopped hard at an invisible barrier, Tabitha just out of his reach as she leaned back against the wall, her knees drawing up to her chest as she curled around the arm pounding with a fiery pain. She gasped deep raged breaths and forced herself to her feet, lightly kicking back a corner of the rug under her desk and chair with her toe as she grabbed a flashlight with a black light bulb from a drawer in her desk, illuminating the hidden devil’s trap only visible under the black light.
“Never thought I’d need that in an FBI office,” she admitted in uneven tones, pain lacing her words. “But I’m glad the Winchester paranoia runs deep.”
“What do you think you’re going to do?” he growled at her.
She could hear the frantic calls and shouts downstairs of the remaining security guards, no doubt calling in the sounds of gunfire. And as she stared at Barrett, she knew she wouldn’t have time to question him like she wanted. Police and Feds would soon swarm the building.
She also knew that in exorcising the demon, she would be killing her colleague. The bullet wounds in his chest weren’t something he’d likely survive.
“Can’t kill this meat-sack, can you?” the demon sneered at her hesitation.
Knowing she didn’t have time for a longer exorcism, Tabitha began to recite the shortened version still engrained in her memory. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”
Barrett began to scream and growl at her, but Tabitha leaned back heavily against the wall and closed her eyes as she finished reciting, “Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos.”
With her final utterance, the black smoke of the demon was expelled, and Barrett fell limply to the floor.
Kneeling beside the man, she felt for a pulse, a soft sob escaping when she found none. “I’m sorry,” she whispered in apology.
But there was no time for tears. She quickly left her office, eyes scanning the halls and stairwell as she turned away from the main entrance, leaving through the fire escape near her office, and racing down the steel steps, not stopping until she’d reached the tan sedan she’d arrived in.
She paused to look back at the office where she had once worked, Jerry’s body still lying on the pavement in the shards of glass, the demon seeming to have abandoned him. Yet she refused to let herself dwell on the consequences of this night. Refused even to think of his now widowed wife, or even his fatherless son, the apple of his eye.
But one thing echoed in her mind as she painfully reconnected the wires beneath the steering column with one hand: Her career in the FBI was now over.
And one mystery remained: What did these demons want with her, and how had Casey and missing files been involved with it?
A/N: For those of you who are curious, the exorcism spell she uses is one of the ones used by the guys in the series. It’s the shortest of several they used since I figured she’d be pressed for time. But if you’re interested, here’s a translation of the Latin:
We exorcise you, every impure spirit,
every satanic power, every incursion of the infernal adversary,
every legion, every congregation and diabolical sect.
Therefore, cursed demon
You may make your Church safe to serve you freely,
we ask you, hear us.