by A and E Kirk
Tristan nodded a tight smile. He didn’t look like he thought it was great.
“What do your parents do? Do they travel a lot?’
My brow wrinkled. “No, they don’t.” I was tired of the interrogation. “Do yours?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Do your parents travel a lot? Are they still married? How many in your family? How old are you? What classes do you have? Boxers or briefs? What’s your GPA? Do you always go around knocking strange girls off their feet and then hammering them with a barrage of personal questions?” I finished with a cocky smirk.
Tristan hid a grin behind his fist. Mr. Exotic leveled me a steady stare, a sly smile gaining momentum. “Do you always end up straddling the guys who do?”
Tristan choked. My smile froze. Crap.
“And as for the boxers or briefs.” One hand went to his belt buckle. “I’d be happy to…”
Double crap. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder toward my house. “I’ve gotta go.”
“No, wait.” He was laughing now. At my expense. “Just one more thing.”
I gave Mr. Exotic an expectant look, but while he bobbed his head toward me, he spoke to Tristan.
“Take care of it,” he said. “She had a bad run in.”
My neighbor lit up with interest. “With the—?”
“Yeah.” The guy twirled a long, slender finger around his temple. “So, you’d better—”
“Got it,” Tristan nodded.
“What are you guys talking—” Something smacked the back of my skull. Hard. My hand flew to my head and I whirled around to find—nothing. Right when I was trying to decipher what invisible force was playing hockey with my skull, a fresh wave of pain crashed through my brain. Knees buckled. I went down, a roar filling my ears.
A hand grabbed my shoulder. My head jerked up and took another whack. At least this one I understood. Tristan reeled back from my unintentional headbutt.
“Sorry.” I rubbed my head.
He waved off the apology, but his wide purple eyes watered from the blow.
Purple? I looked again. No, blue with a ring of violet around the irises. As I watched, the violet faded to lavender then only deep ocean-blue orbs held a worried expression. Too many knocks to the noggin must have given me a concussion because, unless these guys wore some funky contacts, eyes just don’t change color.
“Don’t worry about it.” Tristan reached a hand. Even with his slender frame he easily helped me to my feet. “You okay?”
The throbbing dissipated. I massaged the back of my scalp, surprised to find no lump, and nodded, still clueless as to what had transpired but ready to be rid of these two.
“Rora!” Luna screeched from the doorway of our house. My fourteen-year-old sister wasn’t known for subtle. For once I was grateful.
“Gotta go. See you guys later.” I walked backward and pointed at Mr. Exotic. “Keep your head up. I’d like to avoid another train wreck.”
The two boys shared a startled look.
“Wait, you—” Tristan began but stopped when Mr. Exotic raised a quick hand.
“Dinner’s ready!” Luna gestured an impatient arm.
I waved goodbye over my shoulder, glad to be away. What an odd pair.
CHAPTER FOUR
Luna sniffed as I came into the house. “You seriously stink. Who were you talking to?”
“The neighbors. Tristan and…” I realized the insolent hottie had never introduced himself.
“Are they cute?”
I smiled. “Smokin’.’”
My sister Selena launched herself into my arms, almost knocking me over. My theme for the evening.
“School tomorrow!” the five-year-old squealed. “Yay!”
“It’ll be fun.” I tickled her side to erupt giggles and cover my lack of conviction. New school, middle of the year, and demons trying to kill me? Forecast didn’t look sunny.
I squeezed through unpacked boxes in the dining room and settled Selena into her booster seat. She sang her latest made-up melody about “schools that have snools.” Already in his high-chair, one-year-old Oron had one fist stuffed in his mouth and the other banging his tray. Luna and her twin, Lucian, started a back-and-forth rising crescendo of “Am not,” and “Are to,” after Luna called Lucian a “perv.”
Some folks call it chaos. In our house? Welcome to dinner.
“Lucian!” Mom barked as she set out her famous shepherd’s pie, plying us with our Irish heritage comfort food before our first day at the new school. “Enough boob talk.”
I raised eyebrows at my hormonal brother.
“Mom claims,” Lucian said with a dubious look, “she doesn’t mind Dad seeing other ladies’ boobs. It isn’t like the city. This town is small. He’ll know them. The ladies—not the boobs.”
Selena sing-songed new lyrics. “Daddy sees boobs that look like snoobs…”
Dad jumped in with his standard lecture about surgeons concerned with saving lives not ogling women’s “private parts,” and Mom changed the subject.
“Aurora, have you met any old friends from before?”
I grabbed bread for dipping. “Mom, I was eight when we moved from here. Do you remember anyone?”
Mom shook her head, shoveling mashed potatoes into Oron’s mouth. “No. Clyde?”
“Nope.” Dad paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “Although, didn’t Aurora’s teachers call her Snow White?”
Selena chimed, “Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to work we go.”
“That’s right.” Mom paused a spoonful on its way to Oron who lost patience and plowed his hand into the spuds. Most of the mush made it into his mouth. “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs because she and those boys were always hanging out at school.”
“You had seven boyfriends?” Luna asked, impressed.
“No,” Mom said. “Not seven, just four or five. And they weren’t boyfriends, just friends. Aurora was a tomboy. She didn’t hang out with girls.”
“Should’ve stuck with that plan,” Lucian muttered.
A loud silence punched into the room. Mom, Dad, and Luna looked at Lucian like a landmine just clicked under his foot.
Here we go. Even now, mention of “the incident,” the reason we moved out of the big bad city, brought tension. I rubbed my shoulder feeling the rough scars underneath. Demons weren’t the only freaks that tried to kill me, just the most recent. In truth, they didn’t scare me as much as humans. At least hell’s natives were upfront about wanting me dead.
After Mom’s icy look and an elbow from Luna, Lucian apologized. Dad pulled my hand off my shoulder and held it tight, something he’d done a lot while I’d recovered in the hospital.
I looked around the table. “I’m okay.” I knew the damage still bloodying my psyche would take time to recover, but I’d sworn I wouldn’t be some pathetic tortured soul just because a bunch of loser friends had gone whacko on me. I smiled at Dad. “Someone once told me that just because you’re beat-up…”
“Doesn’t mean you’re beaten,” Dad finished his favorite motto. “Wise man. I’m sure he’s devastatingly handsome too.” He ignored our snorts of laughter.
Luna said, “So about those seven boyfriends,” and we moved on.
Mom shook her head. “They weren’t—oh, forget it. Do you remember them, Aurora?”
“Kind of.” I mined through the catacombs of my memory. Images flashed. “Did someone have horses?”
“Yes!” Mom nodded. “On a farm. You went riding a couple of times when the class went out on field trips. And there were twins. I remember because I had twins too and, oh, jeez, their mother was gorgeous. Hawaiian or something. Remember, honey?” Dad cleverly claimed ignorance on the hottie mom. “All of their parents kept to themselves, but so did we. I’ll bet at least some of them are still around. Want me to find out? You guys could hang out.”
“Mom, they could be mutant zombie serial killers by now,” Lucian warned.
“Enough with the mutant zombies. No more video games for y
ou.”
“Fine. Can I talk about boobs?”
I hadn’t told my family about my demonic detecting skills. They’re far too normal to understand, and I’m afraid I’d end up in the hospital again. Only this one would have padded walls. But today’s encounter had upped the ante in a game I wasn’t sure how to play. I needed answers and a plan before I earned myself and everyone I loved a one-way ticket to dead.
Author Bio:
This bestselling mother-daughter writing duo were in and out of inter-dimensional paranormal prisons until they finally quit making up cover stories for secret societies and started writing novels.
The Supernatural Continuum Warlords of the Supernatural Continuum Warlordian High Command had pity upon them, and instead of having A&E slaughtered by the slow, tortuous flesh eating underwater, earthworm squid, they transported them into a habitationally friendly dimension called OOARCHTOHUTHLAMADILFRUMP, also known as 21st Century Earth.