I Married a Demon

by Beverly Rae

  “Why not? We need to report the robbery. The thief took off with your friend’s bag.” Mrs. Hardgrave’s tone sounded less concerned than smug. Too bad I couldn’t let her bring the police in on this, but something about the man had seemed familiar. Familiar like in one handsome hubby’s brother. But why would Michael want Myra’s purse?

  “I meant Myra should call them.” I shot Myra a look I hoped she’d interpret. “After all, it was her purse.”

  “Jenn’s right. I’ll report the robbery.” I tipped my head toward my house and she caught my silent message. “I’ll take Jenn inside to lie down and call them.”

  Mrs. Hardgrave, however, wasn’t about to give up on more drama. “I truly don’t mind. Besides, I’m sure they’re going to want to speak to me.”

  I tugged Myra along with me, starting for the house, and got the last word in. “No thanks, Mrs. Hardgrave. We’ll take care of the report. Thanks again for your brave assistance.”

  Myra and I hurried inside, leaving a sputtering and disappointed neighbor on the front lawn. I headed for the phone on the desk in our entry hall.

  “Are you really calling the police?”

  “Absolutely not.” Instead, I dialed Blake’s cell phone number. It rang several times before he picked up. “Blake, I need you home. Now.”

  Myra silently questioned me with gestures which I silently ignored. Instead, I listened to him try and make excuses. “No, Blake, no excuses. It’s time to set the record straight once and for all.”

  After Blake agreed to meet me at home, I replaced the receiver. Was this a huge mistake? Could I confide in him? “Blake’s on his way.”

  “I’m confused. You’re calling Blake for help? What’s he supposed to do? The thief’s already long gone.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he is. I called Blake because I want to quit hiding my identity.” What little strength I had left flowed out of me and I slipped into the seat next to the phone desk. I leaned against the chair and closed my eyes.

  “You’re kidding. You’re going to tell him you’re a Protector?” Myra crossed her arms and planted her feet in front of me. “Isn’t telling anyone against the Society’s rules?”

  “I told you.” I opened my eyes and lifted an eyebrow.

  She lost a good dose of her bravado, uncrossing her arms to link her thumbs in her pockets. “I see your point. But the fewer people who know, the better, right? Why tell Blake now?”

  I sighed and prepared myself for whatever reaction she gave me. “Because it’s time for the truth to come out and it’s only fair we both spill our guts. Figuratively speaking, of course.” Yes, it was definitely time for our own version of Show and Tell. Especially since I had a sneaking suspicion that Michael was our mugger. But that was more than I wanted to think about right then. The bigger problem still remained. “I have to tell Blake about me…because he’s going to tell me he’s a demon.”

  I’ll Show You Mine, If You’ll Show Me Yours.

  Myra took the news better than I thought she would. After explaining how I hadn’t known Blake was a demon at the time of our marriage, she was all sympathetic hugs and tears. I knew she could understand how I felt. Myra had my back like she’d had it all the years I’d known her.

  “Oh, Jenn, I can’t fathom what you’ve gone through.”

  “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I found out.” I managed a weak smile and shrugged. “Maybe I could go on Oprah or Dr. Phil. I bet I’d get better ratings than the wife who found out her husband was a closet transvestite with a secret family living right next door.”

  Myra didn’t crack a smile at my joke. “Honey, what are you going to do? Do you still love Blake? Even after finding out the truth about him?”

  “Well, you’ve nailed the two million dollar question on the head.”

  “It’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question, Jenn. Not two million.”

  “Trust me, Myra. This question is definitely worth two million.”

  After a moment of silence, she reached over to take my hand. “Whatever you decide, I’ll stick by you.”

  I squeezed her hand, grateful to have a friend like her. “Thanks. I know you will. I may need you to keep me sane.”

  The sound of the garage door opening signaled Blake’s arrival. I grimaced at my friend and stood, ready for action. “If you don’t mind, I need to do this without any witnesses. Okay?” I managed a weak grin. “Not that I’m planning on exterminating him or anything.”

  Myra accepted my request, but not before checking. “He’s not dangerous to you, is he? I mean, we are talking about a demon.”

  She was right, of course. You never knew what to expect from demons. Yet, instead of using my head as my training had taught me, I went with my heart. “No. Blake won’t hurt me. I believe he loves me and I still love him.”

  I could hear him in the kitchen now, dropping his briefcase by the back door like he did every evening. “You’ve got to leave, Myra.”

  “Jenn? Where are you?”

  He rounded the corner sooner than I’d expected, meaning he must’ve moved with demon speed. “Are you two all right? Mrs. Hardgrave stopped me outside and told me about the mugger. Shit, a mugger on our street? It’s hard to believe, but I guess it’s a sign of the times.” He glanced between us, searching for an answer. “Did anyone get hurt? Are you two okay?”

  Leave it to Mrs. Hardgrave to bushwhack Blake with the news. Yet, unlike I usually did, I didn’t feel any animosity toward her. I couldn’t get mad at her any longer after she’d helped me fend off an attacker. “We’re fine.”

  “Have you called the police?” He kept running his gaze over both of us, trying to make sure we were uninjured. Yet I couldn’t help but think I saw something else in his eyes. What it was, however, eluded me.

  “Not yet. I’ll explain why in a minute.” I started for the door, taking a gawking Myra along with me.

  “He’s really a demon?” Myra whispered and I hoped Blake was too preoccupied to hear her.

  “Later, Myra, okay? Do you have your car keys?” Myra always carried a purse for her purchases along with a fanny pack. It wasn’t fashionable, but it did come in handy─like now. She nodded and patted her pack. “Good. I’ll call you, okay?”

  With one quick hug, Myra opened the front door, paused for a last questioning look, then left after my quick nod. I knew my world would change before I saw her again. The only question was…how much would it change?

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Blake drew me to him, wrapping his strong arms around me. I snuggled against his chest and prayed this wouldn’t be the last time I’d feel like getting close to him. “You’re not trying to hold anything back, are you?”

  I tensed, wondering what he meant. Yet, instead of questioning him, I shook my head and took it as an opening. “No, Blake. I’m not holding anything back any longer.” I knew he didn’t recognize my reference to my secret—his secret—but he’d find out soon enough.

  “Good. I’m relieved. Still, you should’ve reported the robbery to the cops. Mrs. H. said he got away with Myra’s purse, right?”

  Again, I nodded, breaking out of his embrace and turning away from him to shuffle through the mail. I hated procrastination, but this time was different. “He did, but she never carries anything valuable in her purse. Mainly junk. Not even a credit card or money. She wears that fanny pack for those important things, remember?”

  Blake’s deep laugh made me tingle. Would I hear him laugh after I told him the news? Or would he turn violent once I revealed his secret?

  “I’d forgotten about her fanny pack. Yeah, she’s one of a kind, our Myra.”

  I struggled to keep the tears in check and was glad he couldn’t see my face. His calling her “our Myra” nearly broke my heart.

  “Let’s lighten the mood, okay?” Blake’s arms encircled around my waist and pulled me close. “Hey, good-lookin’, whatcha got cookin’?”

  For a second, I allowed myself to pretend nothing had c
hanged and he was still my very sexy, very mortal husband who liked to tell lame jokes. “You are such a cornball. Who says that kind of stuff nowadays?”

  “What? Men can’t call their wives good-lookin’? Or are they not supposed to assume she’s got something cookin’? Am I being a male chauvinist pig?”

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touch of his lips against the nape of my neck. After tonight, would I ever feel those lips against my skin? “Blake, we need to talk.” I knew it sounded cliché, but I didn’t care.

  He dropped the playful attitude and turned me toward him. “Okay, I give up. What’s wrong, Jenn? I get the impression you’re upset about something besides the mugging. Am I right?”

  My laugh sounded more like a hacking cough. “Yeah, I am.” I decided to get straight to the point. “I have a secret.”

  His gray eyes melted my heart with their surprised concern. “You do? Is it a bad secret?” His arms slipped down my torso to lock together at the base of my spine. “You’re all right, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not about to tell me you’ve got a horrible disease, are you?” He bent down to get an even closer look at me. “But if you are, don’t worry. We’ll get through it together.”

  How could I not love this guy? And yet, how could such a good man be a demon? The whole idea of Blake as a demon didn’t make sense. Yet I knew the truth now and I wasn’t ready for another trip to Denial Land—no matter how much nicer it seemed there. “No, Blake, I’m fine. Physically, at least.”

  “Good. But you’re making me think you’re not fine. I mean, other than physically.”

  I broke apart from him and tugged him along with me to the living room couch. “Sit with me.”

  “Oh, this can not be good.” He chuckled, still trying to lighten the mood, yet I heard the nervous tone behind the words.

  I released his hand and scooted farther away from him. He noticed, but didn’t try to close the gap.

  “Let’s have it, Jenn. What’s bothering you?” The lines in his forehead wrinkled. Yet, instead of making him appear older, they made him even sexier than before. “Do you want a divorce?”

  “No.” The word was out of my mouth before I could think. Was my answer the right one? Even if I didn’t want a divorce, would the Society insist on one? I gazed into the face that meant everything to me and spoke the truth. “No, I don’t want a divorce.” He grew serious and deadly calm. Deadly or undeadly? Urgh. Jenn, you really need to choose your words more carefully.

  “Whew, what a relief. Then what’s up? Go on and spit it out, babe. Like I said before, whatever it is, however bad it gets, we’ll tackle it together. Please, tell me what it is.”

  I took the biggest breath of my life and let it out. “I’m a Protector.”

  Blake’s expression didn’t change which, of course, confirmed he already knew my secret identity. He may have fooled Demogorgon into thinking he didn’t know, but he couldn’t fool me. He cleared his throat and kept up the pretence. “You’re a what?”

  I resisted the urge to shout, then gritted my teeth and kept my voice even. “No, Blake, don’t. Don’t pretend you don’t know what a Protector is.”

  “I’m sorry, babe, but I don’t. What’s a Protector?” His poker face adopted a sincere, yet confused expression.

  “Blake Barrington, I know you know about the Society, the Protectors and everything going on.”

  “Jenn, I swear—”

  “Don’t!” I grumbled a few choice words, stalked across the room to expel more of the energy boiling inside me, and whirled to confront him again. “Don’t lie to me, Blake. I’m sick of the lies. I’d rather know the whole truth, no matter how ugly it is, no matter how it changes our lives. I’m finished living a lie and hiding what I am.” I glared at him, letting him know I knew everything. “And so are you.”

  He stood and faced off with me, neither one of us blinking, neither one of us wanting to be the first to break the heated silence. But, as always, someone finally did.

  Blake took a step toward me before apparently changing his mind and backing up. “Are you sure? Are you sure you want to bring all of this—everything—out into the open? Because once it’s out in the sunlight, we can’t shove it into the dark again.” His eyes deepened and I swear I saw a flash of red in them. This time, unlike the previous times, I didn’t ignore the telltale demon color in my husband’s eyes.

  Was I sure I wanted the truth to come out no matter what the consequences? I swallowed and forced myself to say the words. “I’m sure.”

  “You’re a Protector.” Again, his eyes flashed fire and I knew he was fighting to maintain his human form.

  “How long have you known, Blake? Did you marry me knowing I was a Protector? Or maybe because I was a Protector?” Is our marriage part of your scheme to help Demogorgon? I wanted to ask the question, but couldn’t bring myself to reveal that secret yet. I wanted him to confess to me.

  “I found out right after we returned from the honeymoon.” Blake let out a rush of air, walked over to the liquor cabinet, and poured a stiff drink. “I didn’t know who you really worked for before I married you.”

  He downed the drink and reached out for me, but I refused to take his hand. Frowning, he dropped his hand to his side. I knew it hurt him, but I just couldn’t go to him. Not yet. Not until everything was out in the open.

  “I had a friend of mine at high levels of the government check you out.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Jenn, but I knew you couldn’t be a realtor. You hardly ever sell a home and you’re really lousy at the job. I’m surprised Swindle keeps you on.”

  I stood where I was, keeping my hand firmly on the nearby bookcase. Without something to hold on to, I’d fall to the floor. “Are you kidding me? Are you going to stand there and act like you’re the average married man who happened to find out his wife works for a top-secret organization?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t consider myself average when I’m married to a spy. Besides, being married to you—no matter what your job is—makes me luckier than the average man.”

  Was he for real? Did he think I’d buy his flattery? “Blake, stop it. Are you trying to tell me you don’t know what the Society does?”

  “The Society? I’m sorry, Jenn, I don’t. The best my friend could uncover was to say your job was very important and confidential. What is this Society, anyway? Wait.” He held up his palm. “If you tell me, will you have to kill me?” The following chuckle lacked true warmth and I didn’t laugh with him.

  “You’re full of shit.”

  He feigned a surprised look, tilting his head toward me as if wondering whether or not to call for the men in white coats. “I don’t understand why you’re getting all worked up. How am I full of shit?”

  I clenched and unclenched my fists. Forgetting my Protector training on how to stay calm, I pulled a book from the highest shelf in the bookcase and grabbed the vial of holy water I stashed there for safekeeping. “Blake, you’re going to knock off the bull or else.”

  “Or else what?” He acted as though he didn’t know what I had in mind, but I saw the glint of alarm cross his face before he regained control. “Are you planning on throwing that on me? Is it acid perhaps? What’s wrong with you, Jenn?”

  “You know damn well what it is. This is holy water and it’s going on your face if you don’t cut the crap.” I popped the lid off the vial and took a menacing step forward.

  “Come on, babe. You’re losing it. Take a deep calming breath.” He sidestepped, keeping a safe distance between us.

  “I’m going to count to three, then I toss it.” I moved closer and Blake held his ground. “One. Two.”

  “Stop it, Jenn.”

  “I mean it, Blake.” Raising the vial, I slowly pulled back my arm and prepared to fling the blessed liquid at the man I loved. Could I really do this? Fortunately, I didn’t have to find out.

  “All right. You win.” Blake held his hands up, imploring me to stop. “I’ll tell you.”

  Once I�
�d lowered the vial and replaced the lid, he poured another drink and downed it. He raised his empty glass to me in an offer to fix me one and lowered it at my refusal.

  “I guess since this is confessional day at the Barrington household, I need to tell you something, too.” The corners of his mouth curved upward. “You’re right. You’re not the only one living with a secret.”

  I nodded to encourage him.

  “I’m not as successful as you think I am.” Blake ran his fingers through his thick hair and averted his gaze from mine. “Business has gone down the tubes lately, which is why I’ve been working those odd hours. In fact, I’m sorry to have to tell you—”

  “Shut up! Stop telling me lies.” I removed the lid and moved to throw the liquid. “Quit messing with me, Blake. You have one more chance. Make it the truth or you’ll regret it.”

  A shadow fell over his face and his gray eyes met mine. “In a way, I guess it’s good you’re a Protector.” His chuckle sounded bitter. “If you were any other woman, you’d never believe me.”

  “Goody for me. Now tell me everything.” I couldn’t say the word demon. Instead, I wanted him to say it for me. For both of us.

  “I’m a…”

  “Yes?” I held my breath and said a silent prayer, hoping he’d say anything other than what I knew he’d say. I may have suffered through a long phase of denial, but no longer. My demon radar was on full alert and blaring out warnings.

  “I’m a…demon.”

  We both released pent-up air with his admission as though he’d pronounced himself free from cancer. Like we were both somehow relieved to get the truth out in the open. At least I was for a moment. Then the vision of the world around me tilted. My loving husband, the man of my dreams, began to change.

  Blake shifted, transforming into a person I’d never seen. His eyes flashed red and his body wavered, losing its human form. Strong, muscular arms contorted into scaly dark green skin with shreds of flesh dripping from his elbows and armpits. His handsome face morphed, altering into someone─some thing─I didn’t recognize. I gasped, seeing my husband for what he really was, and the horror threatened to crush my chest. Long deadly teeth sprouted from his mouth. His silky black hair disappeared into tuffs of gray, leaving large areas of his scalp raw and exposed.