A Good Demon Is Hard to Find

by Kate Moseman

  He sat down at the kitchen table and tried to pretend he had all the patience an immortal being should have.

  He lasted thirty seconds before springing up and pacing the floor with silent footsteps.

  Nancy Drew sat on the tile and turned her head back and forth to follow his movements.

  The coffee maker burbled and hissed as it finished brewing.

  Andy heard a rustle of fabric from the direction of the bedroom. He froze.

  “Andy?” Erin’s sleep-roughened voice drifted into the kitchen.

  He hustled to the bedroom door but didn’t open it. “Erin?” he said softly.

  She opened the door, still in her pajamas, and rubbed her eyes before focusing her gaze on his face. “Are you really here?” She took a step back and poked her index finger forcefully into the palm of her other hand.

  He watched this odd gesture with fascination. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m making sure I’m awake.”

  Andy chuckled. “You’re definitely awake. I promise.”

  “Prove it,” she said.

  “Follow me,” he said. He returned to the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee, adding a bit of cream and two spoonfuls of sugar.

  Erin watched him.

  He held out the coffee. When Erin wrapped her hands around the warm mug, Andy placed his hands over hers. “Does this seem real to you?”

  Erin met his gaze. “Very real.”

  He released her. “Well, then. Drink up.”

  She took a slow sip. “It’s good.”

  “It should be. I made it,” he said.

  “And so modest, too.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a playful smile. “I see you managed not to break anything this time.”

  He couldn’t stop looking at her little smile, and the way it made her eyes crinkle at the corners, so he filled another mug with coffee to give himself a reason to look away. “There’s always tomorrow.”

  22

  Andy sat in the passenger seat of the car and crossed his arms.

  This seemed like a very bad idea.

  “Come on, it’ll be fine,” said Erin. She placed a hand on his arm. “It was really hard to shop while talking to someone who wasn’t there.”

  “I was there,” said Andy, splitting hairs in order to stall what appeared to be the inevitable conclusion of Erin getting her way.

  “Okay, fine.” Erin used the hand on his arm to give him a little push. “You were there, but you were invisible. It was awkward.”

  Andy caved, like he knew he would. “Do I look okay?”

  She looked him up and down. “Of course. You always look good. I’m envious,” she teased.

  “Envious? Of me? That’s one of the seven deadly sins. Keep up the good work.” He hopped out of the car.

  She joined him. “You’re supposed to compliment me back, you know. That’s how this works.”

  “Oh, am I? I’m a little rusty. Hang on. Let me think.” He faced her and struck a pensive pose. “I think you look beautiful when you get out of bed in the morning with mussed hair and wrinkled pajamas. How’s that?”

  Erin’s cheeks turned pink. “That’s … fine.”

  They walked through the parking lot to the grocery store entrance.

  “Did I do it right?” Andy worried that he’d said something wrong.

  “You should probably keep practicing.”

  “Then let me tell you about your eyes—”

  “Maybe not right now.”

  “Oh,” Andy said. “Right.” He retrieved a cart.

  They were halfway through the grocery store when a familiar voice trilled through the air.

  “Erin, darling! What are you doing here?”

  Erin’s mother, Joyce, stood behind them in the wine aisle.

  Andy put down a bottle before he dropped it out of pure panic.

  “Hi, Mom,” said Erin, moving to intercept her mother before she reached Andy. “This isn’t your usual grocery store.”

  Joyce dodged Erin easily and confronted Andy. “And who’s this?”

  Should he turn invisible on the spot? No, it would probably just make things worse.

  “I’m Andy,” he said brightly.

  “Andy?” Joyce looked to Erin for confirmation or explanation.

  “Andy is my—” Erin stepped to Andy’s side and threaded her arm through his. “Boyfriend. Yes. Andy is my boyfriend, Mom.”

  “Your boyfriend?” Joyce looked back and forth between Erin and Andy. “You never mentioned a boyfriend.” Her eyes narrowed at Andy.

  Andy bared his teeth in what he hoped was a friendly, open smile. “That’s right. Erin is my inamorata.”

  Erin closed her eyes. It looked like she, too, wanted to turn invisible.

  “Isn’t that right, my love?” said Andy. He elbowed Erin discreetly.

  “Are you from America?” asked Joyce.

  “Yes,” said Erin.

  “No,” said Andy, at the same time.

  “I mean, yes, he’s American, but he grew up overseas,” said Erin.

  “Really? Where?” said Joyce.

  Andy felt Erin staring at him. “France,” he said. In a fit of inspiration, he took Joyce’s hand and bowed over it. “Enchantée, madame.”

  Joyce slowly pulled back her hand. “I see. Well, this is certainly exciting. Will you be coming to church this Sunday, Erin? You could bring your new”—she paused to look Andy up and down—“boyfriend.”

  “I think we might go to his church this weekend,” said Erin.

  Andy’s eyes widened at Erin’s audacity.

  “Oh? What church is that?” said Joyce.

  “The church of—” Erin glanced frantically at Andy.

  “Of—” said Andy.

  “Yes?” prompted Joyce.

  Andy said the first string of vaguely appropriate words that popped into his head. “The Church of the Sacred Heart of Our Lady of the—”

  “Sea,” finished Erin. “The Church of the Sacred Heart of Our Lady of the Sea.”

  If Joyce’s eyebrows went any higher, they would have climbed off the top of her head and run away. “Never heard of it. Catholic, then?”

  “Yes,” said Andy firmly. “Exactly.”

  Joyce nodded. “Why don’t you stop by the house afterward for lunch? Since you’re shopping, you can pick up something to bring.”

  Andy and Erin looked at each other. Andy couldn’t read Erin’s pleading expression clearly enough to determine whether she wanted him to accept or decline Joyce’s invitation, so he winged it. “Of course we’ll come. I’ll bring my famous devil’s food cake.”

  “Oh, you bake?” said Joyce.

  It didn’t sound like a complimentary remark. Andy felt a rebellious impulse of mischief coming on. “I do bake,” he said.

  “Well, then,” said Joyce. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

  Andy and Erin stood together, their arms still linked, until Joyce turned down another aisle.

  “What were you thinking?” whispered Erin. “Now we have to go to her ridiculous lunch!”

  “I’m not the one who started a new relationship in the middle of a grocery store,” said Andy.

  Erin pressed her hand against her forehead. “I panicked!”

  “Not hard to do around your mother,” he said.

  She hit him in the arm. “My mother is a saint.”

  “Your mother thinks she’s a saint. There’s a difference.”

  Erin snorted with suppressed laughter. “All right, truce. Mistakes were made. At least I get some devil’s food cake out of it.”

  Andy leaned down to her ear and whispered, “I put the ‘devil’ in devil’s food cake,” and had the pleasure of bringing another smile to her lips.

  23

  After Erin fe
ll asleep that night, Andy slipped out of the house and winged his way to his favorite overlook in the area. The 29-story condo building towered over the beachside peninsula, with a clear 360 degree view perfect for contemplation.

  Unseen on the roof of the building, he stared out across the ocean waves dappled with moonlight. As an immortal, it was all too easy to become jaded, but Andy held on to an eternal optimist’s sense of wonder. He closed his eyes and felt the humid air blow over his face and ruffle the feathers in his wings.

  An English-accented voice rang out behind him. “Thought I’d find you here.”

  Andy turned his head. “Phoenix,” he said. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “On top of the tallest landmark in the area?” Phoenix shrugged, the motion rippling his glossy red wings in the moonlight. “Of course you’d be here.”

  “You’re not wrong,” said Andy. “What brings you out in the middle of the night?”

  “Same as you, I assume. Escaping your assigned mortal.”

  Andy chuckled. “I don’t know if I’d put it that way.”

  “I would. You have no idea what that witch, Raya, has put me through. Like I’m some kind of errand boy. You’re lucky you escaped.” Phoenix sat down next to Andy. “Speaking of escaping, how did you get back, anyway?” asked Phoenix.

  “Your witch didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she just made a sarcastic remark about how you had already turned up, no thanks to me, and just like that”—he snapped his fingers—“I was free. So I went looking for you. Are you still bound to yours?”

  “My what?”

  “Your mortal. Erin?”

  Andy rubbed his bearded chin. “In a manner of speaking.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m supposed to help her get revenge on her jerk of an ex-husband.”

  “Well, that’s easy. Go make his hair fall out or something, and you’re done. Free as a bird!” said Phoenix.

  “I made his pants fall off in front of his church congregation, but it wasn’t as satisfying as I hoped it would be. At least, Erin didn’t seem satisfied.”

  “She wanted more?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like she wanted something different.”

  Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Mortals. They never know what they want.”

  “I don’t want to leave until I do the job right,” said Andy.

  “You have too much of the angel in you, my friend,” said Phoenix.

  Andy raised his eyebrows. “How can you say that? I lie, I desecrate churches with my very presence, and I’m no stranger to temptation. I’m a better demon than you are, by far. Your last customer, might I add, described you as ‘worthless.’”

  Phoenix rubbed his hands together. “Oh, ho! Let’s rewind a bit, shall we? Tell me more about this ‘temptation.’ Are you tempting this mortal?” His dark eyes shone.

  Andy looked away.

  “Come on, you can’t lie to a brother demon. Tell Phoenix all about it.”

  Andy resisted the urge to shove Phoenix off the building. “I’m not tempting her.”

  “Leading her on only to crush her heart in the end?”

  “Back off, Phoenix,” said Andy.

  Temporarily stunned into speechlessness, Phoenix looked Andy up and down. He clucked his tongue. “What have you gotten yourself into, mate?”

  “Nothing,” said Andy.

  “Sitting there like a brooding hen? Don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

  Andy refused to speak.

  Phoenix spoke more gently, for a demon. “You know nothing like that can work. You’re immortal. She’s not. There are no happy endings.”

  “I know that,” said Andy. Pain bubbled up from whatever passed for his soul. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Suit yourself,” said Phoenix. He pointed a finger at Andy. “But don’t come crying to me when it blows up in your face.”

  “I can see why the witch said you were useless.”

  “Oh, very funny,” said Phoenix.

  “Actually, you can be of some use. How about helping me get some more revenge on this mortal I’m after?”

  “Now that sounds like something right up my alley. What did you have in mind? We can’t murder him, you know. It’s against the rules. Sadly.”

  Andy shook his head. “No murder. But I’ll take sheer terror.”

  “I like it,” said Phoenix. “Phoenix and Andromalius, the team of terror.” He spread his hands before him like a film director framing a shot.

  “Like you said, we can’t actually harm him. Physically. But”—here he flashed a grin—“there’s no saying we can’t make him think he’s in serious trouble.”

  “You know, I can’t say I understand your work ethic, but even I can appreciate your dedication to the craft.” Phoenix leveled a small bow in Andy’s direction.

  “Thank you,” said Andy.

  “He seems like a right bastard, anyway,” said Phoenix.

  Both demons looked out across the water in silence, their wings hunched behind their backs.

  Andy stood. “I should go.”

  “I think I’ll stay here a while,” said Phoenix. “I’m going to think of horrible things to do to her ex-husband.”

  “Good. I need some fresh ideas. Will you meet me here again tomorrow night?”

  “Let me check my calendar.” Phoenix pretended to page through an imaginary calendar. “As a matter of fact, I seem to be free for—oh, the next millennium.” He closed the imaginary calendar and cocked his head at Andy.

  Andy smiled, unfurled his wings, and flew into the night.

  24

  The smell of freshly baked chocolate cake filled the house. Andy smoothed chocolate frosting onto the cooled cake layers, lost in the meditative motions of baking.

  Nancy Drew sat on her haunches and watched from a short distance away.

  “No chocolate for you, doggo,” said Andy.

  Nancy sneezed.

  “That’s right. Dogs are allergic to chocolate.” In lieu of cake, Andy tossed the dog a biscuit.

  Erin walked into the kitchen. “Are there free samples?”

  “Not for her. But for you, I might be persuaded.”

  “Please?”

  “All right, I’m persuaded,” said Andy. He scooped up frosting on a spoon and pressed it into a small pile of cake trimmings. “Here you go.” He presented the spoonful of frosting and cake.

  “That was easy,” said Erin. “I hardly had to persuade you at all.” She winked at him, then popped the spoon into her mouth.

  Andy watched as she sampled the chocolate cake and frosting.

  Her eyes closed, and she smiled. “Chocolate heaven.”

  “It’s devil’s food cake, you know,” he said.

  “I know. But ‘chocolate hell’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

  “Devilishly good, then?” said Andy.

  “Devilishly.” She held out the spoon, which had been thoroughly licked clean.

  As he took the spoon, his fingers brushed hers by accident. Had she noticed? Had she held eye contact just a little longer? Flustered, Andy turned away to put the spoon in the sink.

  “I’m going to go finish getting ready,” said Erin. She retreated to the bedroom and closed the door.

  Andy closed his eyes. He hadn’t felt like this in years.

  Hundreds of years.

  He opened his eyes and grabbed a second spoon, then hastily scooped up a large dollop of frosting and popped it into his mouth.

  Even an overload of chocolate didn’t help.

  Erin peeked out the bedroom door. “Andy?”

  Andy, his mouth full of frosting, could barely respond. “Mm?”

  “What are you wearing to lunch?”

 
He swallowed the frosting hastily. “Let me see your outfit first.”

  She closed the door again.

  Andy leaned on the counter and tried to clean the errant frosting from his mustache. He didn’t have to have a mustache and beard, after all, or salt-and-pepper hair, or a red suit and bow tie. He could have appeared any way he wanted to, but a solid identity kept him from going completely mad over the years.

  A solid identity, and frequent helpings of good chocolate and coffee.

  When Erin emerged, she twirled before him. Her tropical print dress spun prettily with plenty of movement in the full skirt.

  “Well?” she said.

  “Devilishly beautiful,” he said.

  “Aren’t men supposed to say, ‘You look like an angel’?”

  “I’m not a man,” said Andy. “And besides, angels don’t know the slightest thing about looking good.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Demons are the experts?”

  “Undisputed.” He gave her ensemble another look, then concentrated as he ran his hands down his body as he had done before when they went to Erin’s school together.

  Her eyes widened as his attire changed from his preferred chambray-and-denim work clothing combo to a casual suit the color of papyrus.

  He turned in a slow circle with his arms extended. “How’s this? I tried to go with the tropical look.”

  “It’s … very nice,” she said, still looking him up and down. “We’ll look like a matched set.”

  “Really? Can I see?”

  They went to the mirror together. Erin stood in front, with Andy behind and slightly to the side.

  “We do look like a matched set,” he said, pleased.

  Erin’s gaze took in their appearance, then shifted and caught his gaze in the mirror. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with my mom at the grocery store. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “What, calling me your boyfriend? It’s a high compliment.” Andy carefully arranged a few of Erin’s tresses to fall to the front.

  Erin stilled his hand by touching it. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. And besides, it’s not like I have anything else to do.”