The Trouble With Black Cats and Demons

by Kat Simons

  Cary snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you’re doing.” It was fine by her if Jon was scared of Holland. Less chance he’d take this supposed job.

  Rather than take the opening to discuss the business at hand, though, Holland shifted back to amiable small talk and slowly succeeded in wiping the wary suspicion from Jon’s expression. She’d give Holland one thing, he was pretty damned charming. For a demon.

  When the food arrived, Cary tasted a small bit of everything on Jon’s plate, even the side scraps of lettuce she knew he’d never eat. She approved the food and pushed his plate back to him. As she turned to her own meal, she caught Holland studying her. She raised her brows in question.

  “A useful skill to have in a bodyguard,” Holland said. He picked up his knife and fork. “I didn’t realize you’d trained your taste buds to detect drugs.”

  “Probably good you didn’t bother trying to drug him then, isn’t it?” She took a bite of her steak, humming at the delicious, un-tampered-with, taste of it melting on her tongue. Then said, “Might have caught you being the bad guy.”

  He chuckled. “You know, I could use someone with your skills as well, Ms. Redmond. Having a taster would come in handy for a man in my position.”

  “Thanks but no. I prefer working for myself.” Which wasn’t technically a lie. She would prefer not to have to jump to the Nags’ orders.

  “One day, Ms. Redmond,” Holland said, “you and I will have to have a long, private chat.”

  Cary made a noncommittal noise around a mouthful of food. She wasn’t having any private chats with a demon if she could help it.

  “Are you in love with your leopard, Ms. Redmond?”

  She nearly choked on her lunch. Before she could swallow and answer, Jon spoke up.

  “She’s gonna marry Deacon.”

  “Is she?” Holland said.

  “I am?” she said.

  “That’s what Deacon told my mom,” Jon confirmed. “And the dogs. They approve, by the way. They think he’ll make a good pack leader.”

  “I’m the pack leader. He told the dogs we’re getting married?” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She was a little worried she found his consideration charming. “When did he say that to your mother?”

  Holland raised a brow. “Has he told you that he intends to marry you?”

  “Didn’t we come here to discuss a job?” she snapped, her cheeks warm, which was as embarrassing as the conversation. “I don’t remember agreeing to a little social visit where we talk about our private lives.”

  “I did have a point when I brought up the subject of love,” Holland said, his smile dropping away.

  “And that would be?” she asked.

  “It can force you to do extraordinary things.”

  “Are you telling me love has ever forced your hand?” She gave him a look but was extremely glad for the change in topic.

  He waved her comment away. “As you say, we came here to discuss a job.”

  “You have a weird accent,” Jon said.

  Holland chuckled, and the tension dissipated. “Yes, well, it grows on you.”

  “If you say so.” Jon wrinkled his nose. “Sounds kind of snooty. Like that guy who plays Hannibal Lecter in the movies. When he talks in his normal voice, I mean, not his Lecter voice.”

  This time Holland laughed so hard the hovering staff and maître de stopped their attempts to look busy and stared at him.

  “Quite right,” he told Jon and clapped him on the shoulder.

  Jon grinned, looking pleased he’d made Holland laugh.

  Cary was happier when Jon was scowling suspiciously at the demon.

  When Holland stopped chuckling, he wiped his eyes and turned back to his food. “You’re a very clever boy, Jonathon. Very clever. But then, I wouldn’t be offering you a place in my organization if I didn’t think you were.”

  “And speaking of this job…,” Cary said.

  “I’d simply like Jonathon to help me find something.” Holland turned to Jon. “I’m afraid I can’t reveal many details to anyone outside my organization. But I will say that the search is completely legal. A bit like a treasure hunt, eh?”

  “Cool,” Jon said.

  “But what’s the treasure?” Cary said. “And if you find this something you’re looking for, what do you get out of it?”

  “I get satisfaction,” Holland said.

  “Power?” she asked.

  He smiled that barely there smile. “Not the sort you’re thinking of.”

  “What sort then?”

  “I’ll simply have the triumph of knowing I’ve uncovered something precious.”

  “But how could I possibly help?” Jon asked.

  He looked curious but suspicious again. Suspicion was good.

  “That would be something we’d have to discuss further once you accepted the post,” Holland said. “It is one of the details I need to keep to myself for the moment. I can say that you wouldn’t be doing anything illegal. Simply using your special gift to aid me in my search.”

  “What could possibly be so special you’d spend all this money and go to all this trouble for secrecy?” Cary met Holland’s gaze. “What could you want so much you’d do all this, yet it won’t give you power?”

  “One day, Ms. Redmond, one day soon I suspect, you’ll realize just how very much a man will do for love.” He turned back to a frowning Jon. “I’ve no intention of pressuring you into this work. I never did. I leave it up to you entirely.” He slid a card across the table. “Think it over. Discuss it with your mother. You can assure her I’m not offering anything illegal.” He glanced at Cary. “And I do this purely for love.” He shrugged. “Maybe a little obsession, but I can hardly be blamed for that. This is a love search, Ms. Redmond.”

  From her peripheral vision, Cary saw Jonathon roll his eyes. What did a thirteen-year-old care about Holland’s love life? But Cary’s stomach tightened as she stared back at Holland. There was something in the way he phrased his words… Very careful and calculated.

  “What the hell are you trying to say to me, Holland?” she said. “Just spit it out already.”

  Holland shook his head. “You really aren’t afraid of me, are you?”

  “I’m terrified,” she said. “I’m shaking in my boots. And you’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Quite.”

  Just then one of the goons approached their table and leaned over to murmur in Holland’s ear. He nodded and motioned the guard away.

  Sighing, he said, “I’m afraid I have to cut the meeting short. Please, stay, have dessert. The bill will be taken care of.” He rose, dropping his napkin next to his plate. “Jonathon, I don’t want you to feel pressured, so I will wait for your answer. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume the answer is no. Ms. Redmond, you can rest assured, Jonathon will not be approached by anyone in or out of my organization regarding this post. The ball is in your court now, young man. So to speak. I hope I’ll be hearing from you soon.”

  With that, Holland and his array of guards filed out of the restaurant. Cary pursed her lips as she watched them go. This hadn’t settled matters as she’d hoped. Because Holland hadn’t waited for Jon’s answer, his promise to leave Jon alone—his word on the matter—didn’t come into play yet.

  She glanced at the boy. He was studying the dessert menu closely. She drummed her fingers on the table next to her plate. What if Jon didn’t say no? What if he said yes?

  “I thought you didn’t like sweets,” she said, tapping the menu once.

  “I don’t really. But it’s free so I should have something. Maybe the apple pie. With ice cream.”

  “They’ve got apple pie?” She snatched up her own menu.

  “I bet they’ll warm it up even,” Jon said. “They opened the restaurant for Holland. I bet they’ll heat the pie if we ask.”

  “With ice cream, huh?” Cary murmured.

  When the waiter slid up to their table, Cary said, “We’ll have two warm sl
ices of apple pie with ice cream.”

  Jon grinned.

  “What?” she asked. “It’s free.”

  Jonathan sat on the floor in Cary’s living room next to the three sleeping dogs and stared at the business card in his hand. The house was quiet. Last time he’d looked at the clock it was three a.m. In the dim light coming from the window over his head, he could barely see the gold font on white background on the front of the card, but it was the scrawled writing on back that kept him from sleeping.

  He angled the card to catch the light. Black ink, elegant handwriting. It reminded him of those fancy cards people wrote to one another in the British historical films his mom liked to watch.

  “Starting Salary: $250,000/year.”

  Two hundred and fifty thousand big ones. A year. Just to start! He’d only have to work a year and he could pay off all his mom’s loans and debts. A second year and he could buy her a house like Cary’s with a backyard and everything. Then they could have dogs and cats and maybe even some birds and a guinea pig.

  That much money would solve all their problems.

  He turned the card around and around in his hands.

  He hadn’t talked to his mom about the job yet, and Cary hadn’t said anything either. He’d made her promise to let him tell his mom.

  Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

  He reached out and tunneled his fingers through the thick fur on Fred’s neck.

  Fred stretched out and sighed, opening his eyes only long enough to say, “Hi. Scratching is good.” Then he drifted back to sleep, content with his place in the pack.

  Jon envied Fred. All Cary’s dogs. They had a good life. With Cary, they never had to worry about food or love.

  Or money.

  Jon looked at the card again. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars could fix an awful lot of things.

  24

  Thursday morning, while standing in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, Sally brought up Thanksgiving. “I want to take Jon to my parents for the long weekend. They live in Olympia.”

  Cary blinked then nodded. She hadn’t thought much about Thanksgiving outside of canceling her trip to New York to visit her sister and her sister’s family. Her parents were going on a cruise with her mom’s sister and her husband—something they did now that they were retired so her mom didn’t feel the need to cook. Cary hadn’t considered she might have to spend the day with strangers. Granted, they were Sally’s parents, and Cary and Sally had developed something of a friendship. But still…

  She sighed.

  Sally reached out and patted her hand. “I’m not expecting you to come with us.”

  Cary opened her mouth, but Sally squeezed her hand, cutting her off.

  “I’m not inviting you,” she said more firmly. “This isn’t because I don’t like you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for what you’ve done for Jon. But we need some family time. Alone.”

  Should she be relieved or offended that Sally didn’t want her around?

  “And you need to spend some alone time with Deacon,” Sally added. “I notice he hasn’t been around for a few days.”

  “He’s been busy with work.” Cary couldn’t begin to consider how she felt about Deacon’s absence, or the fact that she did miss him even though she really shouldn’t after only a few days. Thinking about Deacon was a distraction when they still had a demon to worry about.

  “You should be with your family,” Sally said.

  “That wasn’t going to happen this year anyway.” A niggling of worry curled in Cary’s stomach. She didn’t want to let Jon out of her protection yet, not when things with Holland weren’t finalized. “Are you sure?”

  “Jon told me about the job offer,” Sally said. “He said he’d call Mr. Holland and refuse. He also said Mr. Holland gave you his word to leave Jon alone if Jon said no to the job.”

  Cary blinked. Jon hadn’t told her he’d spoken to his mother about all this yet.

  “Do you believe he’ll keep his word?” Sally shuffled away to get mugs, not meeting Cary’s gaze.

  “Actually, I do,” Cary said.

  Sally’s shoulders sagged as she let out a pent up breath. “Good. That’s good.”

  “If you’re still worried, I can keep protecting Jon for a while longer. I wouldn’t have to interfere in your family time. I could just camp outside in my car, keep an eye out for—”

  Sally raised a hand to interrupt. “I would never ask that of you. Jon will be safe as soon as he turns down Mr. Holland’s job. You said so yourself.” She flashed a crooked smile as she poured coffee into the two mugs. “Look on the bright side. You’re about to be rid of us. That hunky boyfriend of yours can spend the night again.”

  Heat rushed across Cary’s face. She gulped at the coffee Sally handed her so she wouldn’t have to say anything. The burnt tongue was worth it.

  Cary’s cellphone rang just after midnight, pulling her from a deep sleep. She scrambled for it, silencing the ring before the noise woke Sally or Jon. “Hello?”

  “I’m five minutes away. Meet me at your front door,” Deacon said and disconnected.

  She blinked at the phone. He’d sounded so…intense. What was wrong now?

  Scrambling out of bed, she pulled on a pair of sweats and hurried to the front door, opening it when she heard his car door close.

  She barely recognized the man stalking toward her. His hair was mussed, his shirt unbuttoned, and a fine sweat covered his chest. His eyes looked like they were glowing in the dim light from the street lamp.

  She sucked in a breath and took an involuntary step back.

  Then he was on her, sweeping her into his arms and burying his face against her neck. His big body trembled and shuddered. The muscles in his arms flexed. He gripped her shirt, bunching the material up in his fists.

  For a heartbeat, she couldn’t move. When the shock eased, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. She didn’t know what else to do.

  “Cary,” he whispered, his voice a hoarse croak.

  “Shhh. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” She couldn’t say where the need to comfort came from, but seeing such a strong man so upset stunned her. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

  “Don’t let go,” he choked.

  He held her so tight she had trouble taking a deep breath, but she didn’t ask him to loosen his grip. Even when she heard the material of her shirt tear.

  Eventually, his body stopped shaking and his muscles relaxed. Cary eased back enough to see his face. “Better?”

  His laugh sounded strained. “A bit.”

  “What happened? What’s going on?” She kept her voice low as she ushered him inside and closed the door.

  “My control… I shouldn’t have stayed away from you for so long. I thought I could handle it, that my control couldn’t get this bad. But I nearly shifted in front of some of my staff tonight when one of the tigers challenged me.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have even acknowledged the challenge before, but…”

  He pulled her close again and rested his forehead on hers. “I’ve been snapping at everyone, nearly took the head off one of the volunteer vets, literally. It’s just lucky there haven’t been other leopards around. My sister threatened to tranquilize me if I didn’t come see you.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Cary grinned. “I can’t wait to meet your sister. Caitlin, right?”

  “She’s looking forward to meeting you, too.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I hope I didn’t wake Sally and Jon.”

  “I doubt it. Sally would have come out to see what was wrong.”

  “Can I… I need to stay with you for a little while. Please.”

  The please did her in. He sounded so desperate, and she had a feeling that didn’t normally happen to him. Ever. “You can stay.” She cupped his cheek. “You look tired.”

  “Haven’t had much sleep this week.”

  “Work?”

  He
shook his head.

  She didn’t ask more. She wasn’t sure she wanted the truth yet. “I’m tired, too,” she said instead. “Let’s go lay down.”

  “Sally’ll kill you if she finds out.”

  But he didn’t resist when Cary took his hand and led him toward her bedroom. “She’ll just have to get over it.”

  She closed the door and climbed into bed, taking Deacon with her. He paused long enough to toe off his shoes. When he stretched out next to her, he pulled her close, wrapping her in heat and the delicious male scent of him.

  The need to comfort was so overwhelming she wasn’t even self-conscious about having him in her bed. She had no idea where her feelings came from, but she couldn’t have turned him away even if she’d wanted to.

  “I won’t stay long,” he said. “I just have to be with you for a few minutes.”

  “You can stay as long as you need to.”

  “Sally will be scandalized.” The tension eased from his voice and body. He still sounded hoarse but not nearly as desperate.

  “She won’t mind when I tell her it was an emergency.” After a moment, she said, “But we’d better be quiet. Just in case.”

  He tugged at her ripped t-shirt. “Sorry.”

  “I have others. Although, if you’re going to treat my clothes like this all the time, I’m gonna make you pay for replacements.”

  “Gladly.” He sighed. “I’m not used to this. I’ve never, never even come close to losing my control before. My thoughts don’t seem like my own—when I can think at all. I feel the animal just beneath my skin, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it from taking over.”

  Cary stroked his hair away from his face. “I’m sorry.”

  He frowned. “For what?”

  “For what you’re going through. For not being able to help. For—”

  He cut her off with a sharp growl. “You’re helping. Right now.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not proving to be a very good mate, am I?”

  “Yes, you are. You’re perfect.”

  She ducked her chin and gave him a look. “If I was a perfect mate, you wouldn’t be on the edge of losing it.”