by Beverly Rae
Giving up on saving Myra—for now—I pushed through the door and grabbed the cheese shaker from the refrigerator. Granted, the cheese was in a plastic container, but no one in this group would care.
“Jenn? Do you want my help?”
“No!” I’d wanted to keep him in the other room, but my refusal came too late.
“Okay, no need to snap at me.” Blake let the door swing behind him, took a hard look at me, then placed the empty wine bottle on the counter. “I think we’re going to have to hose those two down to get them apart.” He took one of his favorite wines from the rack below the cabinet, then uncorked it and started to leave.
With a lump in my throat and a stone weighing heavily in my stomach, I called to Blake. “Wait a second, okay?”
The man I loved spun around and set the bottle down. “Yeah? So you do need me?”
Understanding his underlying meaning of “need”, I turned away from Blake, moved toward the stove, and pulled the small vial of holy water from my pocket. It was time to find out once and for all. “Yeah, I do.”
His arms slid around me and, pulling my back to his chest, he kissed my neck. Facing the stove, I turned on the two front burners. If my husband was indeed a demon and if he’d never loved me, I wanted to be prepared to defend myself even if that meant slamming his head down on a hot burner. I held my breath, popped off the rubber lid to the vial and tipped it, aiming a drop at his hand.
Burn, Baby, Burn
Blake leaned too close to the stove, struck the burner with the edge of his palm and jumped. A second later, I poured a couple drops of the holy water on the side of his hand. He yelped, cursed, hit the burner with his hand a second time and, jerking away from the stove, knocked into me, sending the vial flying. The bottle and its precious contents smashed on the tiled floor.
“No!” I twisted around and grazed my elbow against the second front burner. “Shit!” I hurried away from the stove to stick my aching elbow underneath the water faucet.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!”
“Shit, fucking shit, this hurts!”
“Crap, crap, crap, crap!”
Our verbal tirade ran together making it impossible to tell where one word ended and the following word started. I could almost see my mother turning in her grave even though she’d had her own fairly colorful mouth. Forget the holy water. Forget whether or not Blake was a demon. All I wanted was relief to the pain searing through my elbow.
Blake joined me, sticking his ugly burn mark underneath my arm to catch the water flowing off my skin. “Crap. What the hell happened? How did we both end up getting burned?”
The cool water eased the pain throbbing from my elbow to my shoulder and, at last, I could get my mind back on business. I checked out the red mark on Blake’s hand. Although I could see the outline of where the burner had scorched his hand, I couldn’t tell where the holy water had hit him. Dammit.
Had I seen the whole thing correctly? Had he jumped because he’d touch the burner or because the holy water had scalded his skin? Had his double whammy on the burner been a freak accident or an attempt to cover the evidence from the holy water? Had he covered the burn of the holy water by intentionally scalding his hand again? I’d have to redo my test to be certain.
I frowned at the small puddle of holy water on my kitchen floor. Maybe if I could get him to help me clean it up, he’d blister himself on the water and I’d have the proof I needed. “Blake? Help me clean up the spill—”
I stopped in mid-sentence as a dishtowel plopped on the floor, covering the holy water and soaking up the precious liquid. Myra squatted down to wipe up the remaining splashes on the stove and floor.
“Don’t worry about it, Jenn. I’ve got it.” She stood, towel in hand, and widened her eyes at us. “How in the world did you both get burned?” George stood behind her, his hands placed possessively on her shoulders. “At least we know you’ve both been to sea.”
“What?” I stared at the towel, certain Myra had mopped up my last chance for happiness. “Sea?”
“Yeah. Because you both know how to cuss like sailors.” She giggled at her joke until she started to inspect our wounds. “George, you’ll find a first aid kit in the right hand drawer over there. Would you get it for me?”
George nodded and started digging around in my junk drawer. “George thinks they’ll need band aids, too.” He brought the kit over to Myra who was already busy cleaning the wounds under the cold water.
“I think you’re right.” Channeling her best motherly instincts, Myra warped into high speed, spreading cooling ointment on Blake’s hand and my elbow. With one last Mom-knows-best blow, she covered our burns with a clean bandage.
“Myra, you’re really good at taking care of people, aren’t you?” George watched my friend at work, his eyes lighting up in wonderment. Hell, you’d think he’d never seen anyone perform minor first aid.
Myra blushed at the compliment. “It’s nothing. What caused the accident anyway? Or should I say accidents?”
Blake leaned into me, giving me a comforting and apologetic hug. “I’m not sure, but I think it was my fault. I got too close to the burners and, since we were hugging, I pulled Jenn too close at the same time.” He pressed his lips to my cheek in a tender kiss.
My gut clenched and I tried to think of this kind, caring man tearing an innocent’s heart out. Granted, demons are well-known for their ability to fool people, acting like normal humans to trick victims into their evil traps, but I had a hard time believing the love coming from this wonderful man was false.
“It doesn’t matter how it happened. Let’s finish our meal, okay?” I walked out, determined to get through the dinner. How I would get through the night was another problem. Could I sleep in the same bed as a demon? My Protector instincts had kicked in, confirming what my head already knew. Blake was a demon. Yet, my heart kept sending me another message. My heart, ignoring the warnings going off in the rest of me, chanted its own refrain.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
By the time the others had joined me in the dining room, I’d decided to stick it out until I could find the nerve to confront Blake. Was I afraid of him confirming what I already knew? Was I afraid to lose the man I loved once he changed into the demon inside him?
For the rest of the evening, I remained stoic, pretending to listen to Myra and George prattle on about everything from dog collars to apple pie. At last, Myra declared she had to go home and get ready for work in the morning. Fortunately, George took the hint and said goodbye. Being a gracious hostess, I wished the stranger-than-fiction couple well and watched them stroll down my sidewalk together. Odd, however, wasn’t how Blake saw them.
“They make a good couple, don’t you think?” Blake waved at George and Myra until they turned the corner and was out of our sight. In what normally would’ve been an easy gesture of familiarity, Blake started to slip his arm around my waist. His touch, however, left me feeling lost and alone.
Without warning, I left him standing in the doorway and escaped to the bedroom. Blake, playing the role of caring and helpful husband, took care of the cleanup job in the kitchen before strolling into the bedroom. I was already in bed, covered to the tip of my nose with the comforter.
“Jenn?”
I didn’t answer, but he knew I was awake. Truth was, I didn’t think I’d ever fall asleep. Not until I could figure out what to do.
“Are you all right? Do you feel well?”
Was his concern real or a demon ploy to keep his stupid wife in his control? I wanted to believe the worry I heard in his tone, but cautioned myself not to trust him. Hadn’t I played the part of the fool long enough?
I ran through several options in my head, trying to decide if I should sleep in the same bed or not, and decided to stay put. Blake, unaware of my dilemma, went through his usual bedtime routine of brushing his teeth, changing into his pajamas, and pumping through fifty sit-ups. He joined me in bed and I pulled the comfor
ter tighter around me. Even so, he managed to run a hand down my back.
“Did I do something wrong? Are you angry with me?”
I shook my head, hoping my non-verbal response would end the conversation, yet knowing Blake wouldn’t let a problem go unresolved if he could help it.
“Then what?”
I had to give him a reasonable answer. “I’m tired. Nothing else. I just want to go to sleep, okay?”
“Sure, honey. If you’re certain there’s nothing you need to tell me.”
I could ask you the same thing, buster. But I didn’t. Instead, I sighed with relief, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep.
“Jenn?”
I moaned a half-answer, hoping he’d take the hint.
“I love you, Jenn. You believe me, right?”
A tear traveled down my cheek to wet my pillow. Part of me wanted to keep quiet, knowing he’d interpret my silence to mean I wasn’t sure of my own love for him, but a greater part of me couldn’t do it. I had to tell the truth.
“I love you, too.”
***
The sun shining brightly through the window did nothing to lighten my dreary mood. My husband, the man I’d trusted with every ounce of my soul, was a demon. Amazingly, my heart still fought a battle with my brain, wanting to sweep what I knew about him under the mental rug in my head and go on, pretending life was the same as the day I’d met him.
“Jenn? You awake?”
I rolled onto my back and called out to Blake. “Yeah, I’m awake.”
Hearing his normal morning sounds coming from the bathroom, I knew he was almost ready to go to work. Work? Did he really work as an investment analyst? The higher a demon climbed on the demonic ladder of success, the more the inhabitants of the Otherworld paid him for his services. Like in the mortal world, advancement had its perks.
“How’re you doing?” Blake peeked around the corner of the bathroom wearing the skimpy, threadbare towel I loved. “Feeling better? Do you need to see the doctor?”
My gaze fell from his smiling face to the part of him eager to help get me over my foul mood. Doctor Dick was ready to make a house call. I sighed, wanting to let everything I’d learned slide away and give my libido control. Yet I knew I couldn’t.
“I’m fine. I think the good doctor’s services aren’t needed.”
Blake’s disappointment registered across his features, but he didn’t allow it to seep into his cheerful tone. “Great. Glad to hear you’re feeling better. But if you need physical therapy…”
“I’ll pucker up and blow.” We both loved the old Bogart movie, but had changed the famous quote to mean something totally unrelated to whistling and more to do with Dr. Dick.
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ve got an early morning meeting, anyway.” He disappeared into the closet.
By the time he’d sauntered over to kiss me on the cheek, I’d come up with a plan. If Blake was a demon—and logically I knew he was—he had to be involved in demonic activity. Perhaps even involved in the Bracelet problem. Either way, I had to find out.
With Blake downstairs eating a quick breakfast, I dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and my favorite knee-high boots. To complete the ensemble, I grabbed a couple of knives and stuck them in the sides of my boots. Then I waited until I heard the door leading to the garage close. Not long after that, Blake pulled his car out of the driveway and was zipping off toward the highway. I wasted no time in flying down the stairs to the garage and hopping into my car. Revving the motor, I backed out of the drive, and propelled the Jag down the street.
“Partner, wake up.”
“Yo, bitch. Whassup? I ain’t never totally asleep.”
Halting at the stop sign for a few seconds longer than usual, I glanced over at Partner’s screen to find Scarlett gone and a young man dressed in black with jeans hanging precariously on his hips. “Where’s the Southern lady? And who are you supposed to be? A gangsta?” Where did he come up with these personalities, anyway?
“A gangsta? No, bitch. I’m a homegrown home boy.” He started strutting and rapping. “Partner’s a boy, a man who can. He hangs with his bitch and he ain’t no snitch. Protectin’s the game and Partner’s my name. So get off my back and cut me some slack.” Finished with his song, he crossed arms in the way rappers do on MTV and glared at me.
“A home boy and a rapper, huh?”
“That’s right, b—”
I jabbed my finger against his two-dimensional chest. “You call me bitch one more time and I’m going introduce you to a new term. Forget drive-by shooting, I’ll show you drive-by flying—as in flying out the window. Get it?”
“Ow!” He clutched his chest, dropping the tough expression on his face. “Watch it. I have very fragile circuitry, you know.”
A honk from the car behind me got me paying attention to my driving and I gunned it through the intersection. “Sheesh, why can’t I have the normal texting and driving problem? Instead I have to deal with a cell with an attitude. Switch back to the original Partner. Immediately.”
“Very well. If you insist. But I must protest. You’re not allowing me my personal growth.”
I knew the B-boy Partner was gone without having to look. “If you want personal growth, work for the Dalai Lama. Now tell me if you can locate Blake.” I darted in between cars on the highway, heading for Blake’s office. If luck was with me, he’d gone to work and not on a demonic mission.
“Task completed.” Partner’s gears whirred a little before he added, “A check at his building shows he used his identification card to gain admittance to his office.” Another whir and he came up with the question I knew he’d ask. “Why are we tracking Blake?”
I had no doubt he knew the answer to his own question. After all, he’d been with me when the gargoyle had outed my hubby’s demon persona.
A new dilemma raised its ugly head. Should I confirm Blake’s probable demonic identity to this machine? If I did, would Partner wifi the news to the main office’s central computer? I decided I needed to confide in someone before I went crazy, but I wanted a person with human emotions, human experiences, and a couple of boobs attached. Somehow talking to a machine didn’t seem right. I decided to lie.
“I think Blake is having an affair.” I kept my eyes straight ahead on the road, giving Partner less chance to see the lie in my eyes.
“Uh-huh. You’re kidding, right? Blake’s cheating on you?”
“You heard me. It’s too true.”
“And we’re following him to catch him in the act of cheating? And not because of what the ugly troll-thing said?”
The underlying sarcasm in his tone was far too evident to ignore. “You know gargoyles lie. What he said is ridiculous. Don’t you think I’d know if I was married to a demon?” I snickered, trying to sound confident in my answer. “Sorry. No demons to blame here. Just a cheating husband and the end of my marriage. Oh, and thanks for the rush of compassion.”
“Uh, sorry. Right. Oh, you poor thing.”
“Too little and too late.” Not that I really cared. I pulled into a parking spot across the street from Blake’s office building. “We’re here.”
“We are indeed here. What now, oh, lovely one?”
I risked a glimpse at Partner and saw he’d changed into the ugliest man I’d ever seen. I pulled away from him in a knee-jerk reaction. “What happened to you? Halloween isn’t for another few months.”
“Well, you know how it is. The tired old wifey gets dumped by the handsome hubby and ends up falling for the first sexy guy she sees. I thought I’d better ugly up to keep your lonely hands off me. We wouldn’t want one of those awkward co-worker relationships, would we?”
The giggles bubbled over making it difficult to speak. “Oh, my. You’re”—giggle—“kidding, right?” Giggle. “Ugly up? To keep me from wanting you? Wow.”
A dark cloud swept over Partner’s screen, turning the brightness level down to pitch black. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Clamping a hand over my mouth
, I tried to stop chuckling. “I’m sorry, but you’re kidding, right? I mean, you and me? Together? Don’t you think our having an affair would rank right up there with the chances of my winning the lottery?” The screen didn’t lighten, making me wonder if he’d turned off. “I mean, come on, Partner. We’re not even the same species. Hell, we don’t even have the same basic elements in common. I’m flesh and bone, and you’re metal and plastic. It would never work out.”
In a flash of light, the screen lit up with the image of the cowboy. “Darlin’, can’t you tell when I’m joshing you? Us as a couple? No way.”
Could a machine get embarrassed? I stole another look at Partner and knew the answer was a big-time yes. I decided to go with the flow. “Oh, sure. Wow, you really had me going. Good one, Partner.”
The cowboy pushed his hat back on his head and grinned at me. But the grin never reached his little mechanical eyes. “Yeah, I do love a good joke. However, we’d best mosey on back to business ’cuz your hubby’s in his car in the basement garage and heading out.”
Blake’s car exited the underground garage and turned into the traffic. Hitting the gas pedal, I slid into the same lane a couple of cars behind his. Although a Jag isn’t an easy car to blend into traffic, I didn’t think Blake would suspect anyone of following him. With any luck, he wouldn’t see my vehicle tucked behind the van ahead of me.
“He didn’t stay at work long, did he?”
I knew what Partner really meant and I said it for him. “I guess he’s hot and horny to see the slut he’s messing with.”
“Hey, how come I can’t call you a name, but you can call her one?”
“Because if she’s screwing with my husband, I can call her anything I want.” I hated lying to Partner, but I couldn’t confess what I knew about Blake. At least, not until I had to.
“Good point.”
I followed Blake’s sedan through downtown and out into the commercial area of town. The traffic thinned out and it got harder and harder to stay out of sight. I was about to call it quits rather than get busted, when Blake did a hard right-angle turn and pulled up outside an old warehouse. I slammed on the brakes, sending Partner sliding toward the edge of the seat, and caught him in mid-air, sailing toward the dashboard.