by Kate Moseman
She smacked his hand. “You—”
“Kidding!” He raised his hands in surrender. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late.”
They left the house and got in Erin’s car.
Andy, who would have preferred to fly invisibly to any given destination, buckled his seatbelt and felt very human. “So, what else should I—your boyfriend—know about you?”
“I think I need to know more about you. We established that you were both foreign and American simultaneously,” said Erin, backing out of the driveway.
“Mais oui. It’s actually true, though, if you think about it.”
“Oh?”
“I lived in France for years.”
Erin’s face took on a dreamy look. “I’d love to go there.”
“We should go. I know all the best places. At least, the ones that are still there.”
“Still there?” said Erin.
“It was a while back,” said Andy.
“I keep forgetting how old you are. How does that work, anyway? Were you here for the big bang?”
“It’s fuzzy,” he said. “I don’t remember anything before humans came along.”
“Sounds like you’re too old for me,” said Erin, with a sideways glance and a teasing smile.
Andy attempted a smile, but feared it would look pained, so he looked out the window and changed the subject. “So how did we meet?”
Erin’s brow furrowed as the car came to a stop at a stoplight. “We met through a mutual friend?”
“Which one?”
“Raya would be the obvious choice.”
Andy nodded. “Good thinking. How long have we been together?”
“A few months?” Erin accelerated when the light changed.
“What do we like to do together?”
“Making posters, making and/or eating cake, and taking long walks with an old dog,” said Erin.
“What do you like about me?” said Andy.
Erin hit the brakes sharply. “Sorry. Thought I saw a squirrel.” She seemed rattled. “I like a lot of things about you. Cake, for one.”
Andy laughed.
“And your enthusiasm for things. And your cooking skills.”
“And my massage skills,” added Andy.
“And your modesty,” said Erin. “What about me? Why are you ‘dating’ me?”
“I like your dog,” said Andy.
“What?”
“Wait, that came out wrong. I mean that I like how you care for Nancy Drew. How you care about your job teaching little mortals. You care about everyone. You even cared enough about me to come looking for me.”
“Anyone would have done that,” said Erin.
“Not just anyone would have even tried, and even fewer would have succeeded. And I like how you’re open to new things and willing to take a chance even when you’ve been hurt.”
Erin’s fingers gripped the wheel. “That’s—very specific.”
“I didn’t offend you, did I? Oh, I’ve said the wrong thing!”
“Not at all,” said Erin. “I just wasn’t expecting such a thoughtful response. I thought your reasons would be something like my hair, or my eyes.”
“Would you like me to talk about those?”
“Maybe another time,” said Erin.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind practicing before we get there.”
“I’m sure.”
“What else will your mom want to know?”
Erin snorted. “Probably what kind of job you have.”
“What kind of job do I have?” asked Andy.
“How about a translator?”
“Parfait. A freelance translator, who flies wherever he is needed. Literally.”
“Okay. Be ready, though. My mother can be a little … difficult.”
“Erin, I’m a demon. I’ve dealt with the most difficult beings in the universe.”
Erin shook her head. “You only think you have.”
25
Andy had never thought of a round dining table as a circle of Hell, but he was about to make an exception for this one.
“Andy, do your parents go to church?” said Erin’s mother, Joyce.
“They’re dead,” said Andy, improvising wildly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Joyce. She took a sip from her glass of iced tea before continuing. “But did they go to church?”
Andy was tempted to unfurl his wings and grow horns. That would put a stop to her intrusive line of questioning. He smiled, imagining her expression. Only then did he trust himself to answer. “It was in France. You wouldn’t have heard of it.”
“Mom, are there any more rolls?” said Erin.
“In a minute, honey. I’m talking to your boyfriend.” Joyce said “boyfriend” with two distinctly drawn-out syllables.
Andy waited for the next salvo of questions while imagining bursting through the roof and flying away.
Far away.
“Young people today—”
“Mom, please—” said Erin.
“No, go on, Joyce,” said Andy. He winked at Erin where Joyce couldn’t see.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted”—she shot a look at Erin before continuing—“young people today just aren’t as interested in the religion of their forefathers.”
“Oh, but I am,” said Andy, his eyes shining. “In fact, I’ve made a special study of demonology.”
Erin made a choking noise.
“Really?” said Joyce. She leaned in. “Tell me about that.”
“Well, from what I’ve read, they’re positively everywhere.”
“I’ve heard that,” said Joyce. “Makes you wonder what they’re up to.”
Andy nodded solemnly. “It does.”
“Mom? Rolls?” said Erin. “Remember?”
“I would love some rolls,” said Andy. “May I help you in the kitchen, Joyce?”
“You may,” said Joyce, pushing her chair back.
“I’ll come,” said Erin, leaping out of her seat.
“You sit,” said Joyce. “We’ll be right back.”
Erin slowly lowered herself into the chair.
When Joyce’s back was turned, Andy gave Erin an enthusiastic thumbs-up to show that he had everything completely under control.
In the kitchen, Andy pulled the rolls out of the warm oven while Joyce retrieved a platter from the cabinet. They stood side by side as Joyce carefully transferred the rolls one at a time from the hot pan to the platter.
“How much do you know about Erin’s divorce?” asked Joyce.
Andy was caught flat-footed. “I—”
“Nevermind,” said Joyce. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that she got hurt pretty bad. She doesn’t need to go through anything like that ever again. You see what I’m saying?”
When Joyce looked at Andy, her eyes reminded him of the many eyes of one of the more fearsome demonic creatures he had known. “I think so,” he hazarded.
Her gaze turned even sharper. “I’m glad to hear it.” With that, she picked up the platter and strolled into the dining room. “Rolls!” she said, trilling the “r” and leaning down to offer them to Erin first.
Andy followed her out and returned to his seat.
Erin piled several hot rolls onto her plate. “Thanks.”
Joyce seated herself. “So, I assume you heard the news?”
“About the wedding?”
Joyce sat up straight with surprise. “You knew?”
Erin nodded. “Genevieve told me.”
“She told you? I didn’t think you two were even speaking.”
“She asked to meet me in person to give me the news. I guess she thought it was right somehow.”
Joyce gave Andy a sidelong glance before retu
rning her gaze to Erin. “You’re going, right?”
“Mom, why would I go to their wedding?”
“You should show that you’re over him. Show him you’re moving on. Stick it right in his eye with your handsome new boyfriend.” Joyce nodded toward Andy. “Isn’t that right, Andy?”
Andy realized his mouth was hanging slightly open. He closed it quickly and looked at Erin.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mom,” she said.
“I’m not ridiculous, young lady. I think you should stand tall and hold your head high and show off Mr. GQ over here.”
“I don’t have anything to wear,” muttered Erin.
“We can go shopping,” said Joyce.
“I have to get ready for school.”
“That’s a lie. I know you already moved your classroom with this guy.” She raised her eyebrows and pointed toward Andy.
Andy felt Erin’s gaze even before he turned his own to meet hers.
“Andy?” said Erin. “What do you think?”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” said Andy, and he meant it even more than she knew.
“See? He’s game,” said Joyce. “Here’s what you do: you get yourself a nice dress, pretty shoes, a new hairstyle, maybe a little makeup, and you waltz in with a good-looking young man on your arm.”
“It’s not exactly a vote of confidence if you think I need a complete makeover.”
“Sure it is. Do it for you, not for him. Or her.” Joyce helped herself to another roll.
“I hate to say it, but I’m kind of with your mom on this one,” said Andy.
“Not you too?”
“I think you should do whatever makes you feel best—but you know I’m all for some living-your-best-life revenge.”
Erin looked undecided.
“Come on,” said Joyce. “Live a little. Cause a little ruckus. It’ll be good for you.”
“You’re telling me to cause a ruckus? You, the mother who once told me to stop raising my hand so much in Sunday School because it made me look overeager?”
Andy choked and nearly spat out a mouthful of tea.
“See, look what you’ve done,” said Joyce, whacking Andy firmly on the back.
Erin shook her head. “I’ll never understand you.”
“That’s all right, honey. Children aren’t meant to understand their parents. They should just listen to them and do everything they say,” said Joyce, her delivery perfectly serious.
Andy watched the thoughts play across Erin’s face like a chyron of emotions, passing from consternation to determination.
A mischievous smile slowly graced her lips.
“Guess we better go shopping, then,” said Erin.
26
That night, Andy beat Phoenix to their pre-arranged meeting spot atop the tall condo building overlooking the water. Andy sat looking west over the intracoastal waterway, watching the evening star rise. Venus glowed in the clear sky, bright enough to outshine the true stars.
He felt the mantle of age settle over his shoulders like moonlight—always there, even if it couldn’t be seen. How long had he looked up at the sky and watched the stars trace their paths?
A ruffle of feathers and a rush of air alerted Andy to the presence of Phoenix, who landed neatly and spoke without preamble. “Have I got some ideas for you.”
Andy continued to stare at the sky.
“What, no hearty greeting? No ‘Thank you, Phoenix, for coming up with brilliant ideas’?” Phoenix sat next to Andy. “Or even a ‘Thank you for coming to sit on this godforsaken building when you could have been off doing something far more entertaining’?”
“I’m sorry,” said Andy. “I just don’t think it’s going to work.”
“What do you mean? We were going to get some really juicy revenge together, Andy. You’re disappointing me. Where’s your famous demon work ethic?”
“It’s not what she wants.”
“Who, Erin? Of course she wants revenge. She’s only human,” said Phoenix.
“She wants to move on, Phoenix.”
“Oh. Oh, I see. So we’re done here, then? I can go? Or, I should say—we can go?” Phoenix made as if to get up.
“You can go if you want,” said Andy.
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of all that is unholy, Andy, what is your problem?”
Andy sighed. “Look, I can handle wickedness. I know how to get revenge. But what she wants now”—he raised his palms to the night sky like he was pleading—“how am I supposed to give her that?”
“The ‘moving on’ part?”
Andy nodded miserably.
“A wise chap of my acquaintance once said that living well is the best revenge.”
“Don’t quote my own words back at me,” said Andy.
“Why not? It’s you who needs to hear the damned things.”
“How does that help me with Erin?”
“Are you that stupid?” said Phoenix. “You can still help her. Whether that includes terrorizing Mark, or making his hair fall out, or cancelling all his credit cards, or whatever mad scheme you came up with, you can find a way to make it fit in with what she wants. Help her live well.”
“Help her live well,” echoed Andy.
“It’s so obvious. You’re the Finder of Lost Things, right?”
“Yes … ”
“Well, act like it, Andromalius! When her ex-husband put her through the wringer and left her high and dry—”
“That’s a terrible mixed metaphor,” Andy said.
“Shut up and listen. When that happened, she lost something. Something important.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s what you need to find out. Help her find what she lost. Can I spell it out for you any more clearly?”
“How did you become wise, Phoenix?”
“Years of recklessness followed by inevitable consequences,” said Phoenix.
“Makes sense.”
The two demons stared at the night sky.
“How does she feel about you, anyway?” said Phoenix.
Andy smoothed his beard nervously. “I don’t know. She likes me.”
“And you like her. Except—it’s a little more than that, isn’t it?”
As a demon who had long ago learned to set aside attachments, Andy had pretty much forgotten how to cry. Instead, his wings involuntarily shuddered.
“Bloody hell. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself, mate. We talked about this,” said Phoenix.
“I know.”
“It can’t work. No human wants an ancient demon like you or me. Not for anything serious, anyway.”
“I know,” said Andy, holding his head in his hands.
“Even if you’ve mellowed with time and picked up a few skills here and there.”
“I know!” cried Andy, startling a nearby vulture roosting on the roof.
“So why torture yourself?”
Andy laughed ruefully. “Torture is what demons do best.”
“Besides, you may look male to her, but for supernatural beings, gender’s just a habit. How’s she going to take that?”
“You’re killing me,” said Andy.
“I wish I could. It’d put you out of your misery. Be a mercy, really.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Any time,” said Phoenix.
Andy shifted slightly before changing the subject. “She’s supposed to go out tomorrow. With Raya.”
“Not the witch again?”
“To go shopping for a makeover,” said Andy.
“Shopping for a makeover?” Phoenix scoffed. “Raya wouldn’t know a dress from a hole in the ground. All she ever wears are pithy t-shirts and jeans.”
“I’ll be there.”
Phoenix waved Andy’s rema
rk away. “You’ll be too busy making puppy dog eyes to talk sense.”
“I resent that,” said Andy, ruffling his wing feathers in indignation.
“You resemble it,” countered Phoenix. “No, I’ll have to go. Someone has to take charge of you lot. Bunch of hapless mortals and a lovesick demon.”
“What will Raya think if you show up?”
“What do I care? She can bloody well deal with it,” said Phoenix, hunching his wings and unintentionally making himself look like a petulant gargoyle. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“I was thinking—the mall?” Even as Andy said it, he cringed, anticipating Phoenix’s reaction.
“The mall? That’s all you could come up with?”
“It’s not like I can fly her to Paris.”
“Well, technically, you could.”
“Not on this short notice, and not without a lot of awkward questions.”
“Fine, fine. The mall it is.” Phoenix made a face of distaste. “Stuck in a backwater and condemned to go to the mall. That’s what I get for getting mixed up with you.”
“Thank you, Phoenix,” said Andy.
Phoenix edged away. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”
Andy held up his hands in surrender. “I won’t.”
Phoenix huffed. “See that you don’t.”
They lapsed into companionable silence—two demons with all the time in the world—as the rising moon illuminated the river from edge to edge.
27
The four doors of Erin’s sedan slammed one after another as Raya, Erin, Andy, and Phoenix stepped out of the car and into the parking lot of the local mall.
The mall had seen better days. Years of rain had left rusty trails running down the sides of the exterior. Birds nested in the parking lot lights, and scruffy grass overran the concrete planters.
Phoenix inhaled deeply. “Ah, you can smell the decline.”
“Smells like capitalism to me,” said Raya.
Erin approached Andy. “We were going to practice looking like a couple, right?”
Andy started. “Right! Yes. Let’s do that.” He held one hand out gingerly, as if testing a pan on the stove to see how hot it was.
Erin placed her hand softly in his. “See? I don’t bite.”
They walked into the first department store.