The Trouble With Black Cats and Demons

Home > Other > The Trouble With Black Cats and Demons > Page 11
The Trouble With Black Cats and Demons Page 11

by Kat Simons


  Cary watched in mild fascination. She hadn’t had a chance to witness a lot of tri-witch magic in person. Jaxer would want her to study their techniques and pay attention to the spells they used. But after a few minutes of trying to decipher a language she wasn’t familiar enough with, her head started to hurt. She grunted and turned her attention to the more important problem at hand.

  “What do you think your mom meant by a ‘healthy dinner’?” she asked Jon. “What does she usually feed you?”

  He looked over his shoulder at her with wide eyes. “Huh?”

  “Dinner, you know. Your mom told me I had to pick up something ‘healthy’ for dinner. What do you think we should have?”

  He shrugged, his tight muscles relaxing a little with the gesture. She could still feel the fine tremor in his narrow shoulders, but he tilted his head as if really considering her question, determined not to pay attention to the chaos around them. She smiled and hugged him.

  “Mom likes chicken and brown rice,” he said.

  “What kind of chicken?”

  “I don’t know. I just eat it. I don’t make it.”

  “Well, that’s no help. What use are you if you can’t even tell me what I’m supposed to feed you?”

  Jon laughed, the sound hard to hear past the rising cacophony of magic and debris circling them. She leaned forward so her ear was close to his cheek.

  “We could have pizza again,” he said. “Or maybe Chinese take-away.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure your mom would consider that really healthy.” Cary grimaced. “Besides, she specifically said no more pizza.”

  “Hamburgers and fries? Fries are a vegetable.”

  “In what universe?”

  “They’re potatoes. Potatoes are a vegetable. Technically.”

  “Deep frying robs them of their nutritional value. But at least you’re thinking vegetables. Try something that won’t give your mother heart palpitations.”

  The chanting grew in volume, competing with a deep rumbling sound. The ground beneath them seemed to roll in a gentle wave. Cary adjusted her stance to keep her balance.

  Jon turned to speak into her ear so she could hear him over all the noise. “We could get barbecue chicken and mash potatoes. I like those. They’re almost as good as fries.”

  “Okay. This is good. We can do that. What about greens? Your mother will want some non-potato vegetables.”

  “Yeah,” Jon said.

  Cary felt the breath of his resigned sigh on her cheek.

  “Maybe she’ll let us get away with corn,” he suggested. “She likes green beans, but I hate them.”

  Since Cary hadn’t been able to face green beans in fifteen years, she couldn’t agree more. “Corn it is, then. And maybe a fresh salad? That sounds like a pretty healthy dinner. Okay. Great. Problem solved.”

  “Uh, Cary?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What about the witches?”

  She glanced up at the three women. Their arms had fallen to their sides and the blonde had dropped to one knee. Their shoulders sagged, but they were still chanting. A tug on Cary’s skin gave away the power being thrown at her. A lot of power. She could almost feel the intent of the spell, something she couldn’t decipher from their chant. It felt like it would be binding and painful. Fortunately, her own magic kept theirs at bay. She was pretty sure she didn’t want to know what they were trying to do to her.

  “They’ll wear themselves out soon,” she told Jon. “Then we’ll have to hurry to class. Mrs. Zuckerman is going to be ticked off at us for arriving so late.”

  The chanting started to sound so hoarse Cary thought the witches might lose their voices before they clued in enough to stop. They were churning up so much magic, if she’d been an ordinary human, that power would have probably torn her to pieces by now. She suppressed a shudder at the thought, afraid Jon might misinterpret the gesture and start to worry again.

  Finally, when the black-haired witch dropped to her knees, the chanting stopped. All three panted, sweat streaked their flawless skin and dotted their smooth brows.

  “What are you?” the redhead asked in a voice so roughened by her efforts, the already deep tenor hit a base register that was almost masculine.

  “Not a person to be messed with,” Cary said. “Listen, just tell this master of yours to save himself a lot of trouble and leave us alone. The kid isn’t interested.” She grinned without humor. “And I’m really hard to get through.”

  “We won’t be the last, sister. Guard yourself well. He’ll kill you for this insult.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” She shrugged. “Not the first time someone’s wanted to kill me, though.”

  The redhead actually laughed. “Under different circumstances, I would have liked a longer conversation with you. You strange woman.” She motioned to the others. “Come.”

  The other two rose to their feet, the blonde stumbling a little, and they followed their leader. When the blonde passed behind Cary, she hissed, “Bitch.”

  Cary turned to smile at her, showing a lot of teeth. The blonde’s eyes narrowed, and Cary winked. The witch snarled, turned her back with a dramatic swirl of her long black sweater coat, and followed the others out of the parking lot.

  “That was a fun start to the day,” Cary said. “That witch’s sweater was very cool, wasn’t it? I wonder where she got it.” Cary took a deep breath as the post-protection tingling along her skin settled, a lot of tingling this time around, like a swarm of ants crawling all over her. Ick. Then she patted Jon on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get to class before you miss the entire first period.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” he said. His voice was a little hoarse too, from having to talk so loud, but he sounded calm.

  Cary snorted and pushed him in front of her toward the doors. She glanced over her shoulder one last time, but the witches had disappeared.

  13

  Given the way the day had started, Cary wasn’t the least surprised to find a leprechaun waiting by her car that afternoon. What was surprising was that she knew the leprechaun.

  “Tom,” she greeted with a crooked smile.

  He was decked out in a natty gray suit with a crisp white shirt and a green tie decorated with little shamrocks. She rolled her eyes at the shamrocks. Tom was only four foot tall, but he took advantage of every inch to show off his perfectly proportioned physique. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a low tail that helped highlight the strong cut of his cheekbones and slight upward tilt of his green eyes.

  “You’re looking good,” she said.

  He grinned and tipped an invisible hat. “Very kind of you to say.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Sure, I suspect you know already, Cary.”

  She sighed. “Yeah. But I was hoping you’d tell me I was wrong.”

  Tom was an…associate of Jaxer’s. Or at least he had been, off and on, in the past. Jaxer claimed faeries and leprechauns rarely got along, especially when the faery had links with both the Irish and English Courts (though what those links were, Jaxer had never deigned to tell her). And as it turned out, Jaxer and Tom hated each other with a passion. But they’d been able to work together a few times. When money was involved. And blackmail.

  Cary had always liked the leprechaun. She especially loved the way he could ruffle Jaxer’s feathers. Knowing he was here working for the bad guy was both disappointing and sad.

  “I think we’ve been pretty clear on the point,” she said. “The kid doesn’t want anything to do with this Boss of yours.”

  “Well and that’s why I’m here. To see if I can talk some sense into you. He means the boy no harm.”

  “And that’s why we’ve had dragon shifters blowing fire at us, witches casting spells, various sorcerers and shifters trying to follow us…”

  “What?” Jon squeaked. “How’d you know? Why didn’t you tell me about the sorcerers?”

  Cary glanced over her shoulder. She’d instinctively put Jon behin
d her when they approached Tom, and to the kid’s credit, he hadn’t protested. His dark eyes were huge and round as he stared at the leprechaun, though Cary couldn’t tell if it was Tom or the mention of sorcerers that had Jon so scared. Maybe both. She noticed he didn’t mention the shifters trying to follow them home. Given Jon’s talents, he probably knew about those already.

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” she said.

  “You’ve some powerful protection spells working for you, Cary,” Tom said, drawing her attention back to him. “But it won’t be enough.”

  Tom didn’t know she was a Protector. Jaxer didn’t trust him enough to reveal that piece of information, thankfully. The leprechaun thought she was a sorceress, slightly inept but powerful and being trained by Jaxer.

  “If the Boss means Jon no harm,” Cary said, “then why do we feel under constant threat?”

  Tom let slip a big, charming smile. “Because you’re a clever woman.”

  “So, he is a threat?” Cary said.

  “Oh, he certainly could be. Which is why I’m trying to talk some sense into you. I’ve always liked you, Cary, despite the company you keep. This isn’t to do with you. Let the kid meet with the Boss. He can always turn down the offer.”

  “What is this guy, anyway?” she asked. “Wizard, demon, vampire, shifter?”

  “What he is is rich, powerful, and scary.” Tom pushed away from her car and tucked his hands neatly into the pockets of his pants. “And you’re putting yerself on his bad side for no good reason.”

  He straightened his suit jacket and tipped his invisible hat her way again, as if preparing to leave.

  Cary raised a brow. “What, no attempt to get around me to Jon?” she asked.

  Tom grinned crookedly and nodded behind her. Three leprechauns she didn’t know were pulling themselves up from the tarmac, shaking their heads or rubbing their backsides. They’d obviously tried to get at Jon from behind and ended up tossed away by her magic. Once under her protection, the actual direction of an attack didn’t mattered. You couldn’t just sneak up on a Protector to get to their charge. Cary rolled her eyes and looked back at Tom, shaking her head.

  “Can’t blame the lads for trying,” he said. “I warned ’em it wouldn’t work.”

  She hadn’t even felt a tug or bounce against her shields. Not that she always felt a reverberation from an attack. Especially if the attack wasn’t much of a threat. But she usually knew when an attempted attack was taking place.

  Sneaky little devils, those leprechauns.

  “I’m sure we’ll be talking again soon, love,” Tom said. “In the meantime, keep your back well guarded. And mind yerself. It’d be a shame to see you killed over such a minor thing.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said to his retreating back. “Hey, Tom.” When he turned, she said, “If I were you, I’d resign from this job.”

  “Ah, but I never could resist a pot of gold.” He winked and ducked behind a tree.

  She groaned at the very bad joke. Glancing back, she made sure the other three leprechauns left, too.

  “Cary?” Jon’s voice was quiet in the still, chilled afternoon air. “This Boss. He couldn’t really kill you. Could he?”

  “He’d have a hard time doing it, Jon. Don’t worry.” She clapped him gently on the shoulder. “I’m pretty tough to kill. And I guarantee I’ll keep you safe.”

  Her deepest fear raised its head again. What if this time she failed? What if this bad guy was too strong for her? But she didn’t let any of her inner uncertainty show. Jonathon trusted her to keep him alive and that’s what she intended to do.

  She turned him toward her car. “So I noticed you weren’t surprised to hear a few shifters have tried to follow us home?”

  He shrugged. “I knew they were there. Don’t know how. Never noticed before.”

  “Your survival instincts are kicking in,” she said.

  “Yeah? That’s cool, huh?”

  “Kind of. I guess.”

  Cool that Jon was being hunted so his instincts were forced to heighten? She didn’t think so.

  A shiver danced across her shoulders, awareness that made her frown. She glanced around. That sense of being watched crept over her, tightening in her stomach. She wasn’t getting a Protector warning, yet she felt danger lurking. She searched the lot, scanning for the new threat. Nothing. And a moment later, the sensation vanished. She blinked. No more spark of danger in the air, no more sense of menace. Just a normal autumn afternoon, the air sharply cool and scented by the surrounding trees.

  Still frowning, Cary slid into the car.

  “Why can’t they track us?” Jon asked, continuing their conversation. “There’ve been two wolves, a lion, a bear, and a cougar. But I think Deacon scared the cougar away.”

  “That is some talent you have there, kid.” She fastened her seatbelt. “I couldn’t tell what kind of shifters they were.” They’d been in human form when she’d spotted them. The only reason she could tell they were shifters was because of the way they’d tracked her.

  “But why can’t they follow us all the way to your house?” Jon said. “They get lost.”

  Cary shrugged and concentrated on merging with street traffic.

  “You’ve got a spell or something on the house! I knew you did.”

  “If you say so.” She was happy to let him think he’d stumbled on the right answer. He was too close for her comfort anyway.

  “How come Deacon didn’t meet us today?” Jon asked. He turned in his seat so he could face her.

  “Your belt on?” She glanced over to check.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He pulled the shoulder strap out a little so she could see. “So, Deacon?”

  “He has a regular job, you know. He had to work.”

  “But he’s the boss.”

  “Which means he’s got most of the responsibility.”

  “You think he’d give me a job? I could help with the animals.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She grinned at Jon before focusing on traffic again. “When you hit sixteen, I bet he could find something useful for you to do. You might not make a mint, but it’d be really worthy work.”

  “Deacon has lots of money,” Jon said.

  “What makes you say that?” She wasn’t sure herself. He didn’t seem to be struggling. And his top of the line hybrid SUV wasn’t a cheap vehicle. But his family ran animal shelters and depended on donations and grants to make the business work.

  “He said he’s got a house,” Jon said.

  “Yeah, well I have a house, and I’m sure not rich.” Just decently paid.

  “But you don’t want my mom to pay you to protect me? Why not if you’re not rich?”

  Great. Just the question she didn’t want to answer. “I got paid enough on my last job to not need any payment this time around. I’ll be more mercenary with the next smart ass kid I have to protect.”

  “My mom would have fits if she heard you call me a smart ass.”

  “Better than a dumb ass, right?” This comment caused a peal of laughter that made Cary smile.

  “Can I tell mom that?”

  “I will deny any knowledge of this conversation if you repeat any of it.”

  He kept chuckling. “Smart ass is better than a dumb ass. That’s so true.”

  Cary tried not to laugh with him. At least he’d been distracted from her source of pay.

  “But Deacon’s house is in Nobhill,” Jon continued. “He’d have to have money for that, wouldn’t he?”

  So much for distraction. Now, if she could just avoid showing her own surprise. She’d had no idea where Deacon lived. Which was a little embarrassing to admit since Jon and Sally thought he was her boyfriend.

  “Why all this concern with our finances all the sudden?” she said to avoid revealing her ignorance.

  Jon shrugged and looked out the window. “Mom said she’d like a house one day.”

  “Ah. Well, houses are nice. But she’d make you mow the lawn.”

&
nbsp; Jon grinned. “I wouldn’t mind.”

  “Really? So you want to mow my lawn, then?”

  “No,” he drawled. “Unless you pay me.”

  Cary chuckled as she turned down her street.

  “Hey, don’t we have to go to the store?” Jon frowned, then his eyebrows rose. “Or have you decided to go over mom’s head and get pizza?”

  “Go over your mother’s head? Not in this lifetime.” She pulled into her little one car garage and cut the engine. “We were being followed. Safer to come home and lose them. We’ll go back out in an hour after they give up looking for us.”

  Jon’s eyes widened. “Who was it this time? Not shifters.”

  She shrugged, then heaved herself out of the car. “Couldn’t tell.”

  She let Jon proceed her into the house, down the narrow hall, past her little laundry room—which she studiously avoided looking at since she hadn’t done laundry in a couple of weeks—and into the living room. Jon went straight to the kitchen after dropping his backpack in the middle of the floor. Cary picked it up and set it closer to the wall, then followed him into the kitchen.

  The dogs were already jumping on him and bouncing around his legs in greeting. It took a full minute before they even noticed her and came over to say a quick doggie hello before scampering back to Jon. They followed him into the pantry when he went to get them treats.

  She shook her head. “Nice to see you guys, too.” Fred ran back, bounced off her thigh, then hurried after Jon again. “Well, thanks for the extra attention, Fred.” She snorted and went to hang up her coat.

  Jon had a pot of coffee started by the time she got back. “You’re spoiling me, kid. I’m not going to want to let you leave if you keep making me coffee all the time.”

  Jon flashed her a smug grin. “I’m still not gonna mow your lawn for free.”

  “You distract the dogs. That’s pretty handy, too.”

  “They’re good dogs.”

  “Yeah.” She scratched Buck behind the ear.

  “Cary?”

  “Hmm?”

  “How come you didn’t know who was following us? You knew sorcerers had tried. And shifters.”

 

‹ Prev