Cam-short-for-Cameron tried to blend too, making small talk with Cole mostly, while I went through the motions of rustling up grub for everyone. I tried to keep an eye on both him and Axel until I gave myself a headache.
The almost-priest seemed like an all right sort of guy, if a little strange. More than once, I caught him watching me, though he’d look away the moment he realized I was looking back at him. It did also occur to me that maybe he was just watching me to figure out why I was staring at him, too.
He had a very faint limp when he walked, like maybe his right leg wasn’t entirely sound, and when he wasn’t staring at me, he was very attentive to Dr. Bridget. The smiles they exchanged from time to time made me feel like a peeping Tom. It was that smile that said, “I’m totally head-over-heels in love with this person.”
I had to admit, it was a bizarre feeling, watching them, and I finally decided that this was how I’d feel when Annabelle started dating someday. If Bridget had warned me, I could have been cleaning a shotgun or something when they came in. “She’s my only daughter…” Which is probably why she didn’t warn me.
The burgers came off the grill and the brats and hotdogs went on, and the party partied on. If not for my own voice carrying across the patio as Axel laughed at someone’s joke, I might have even forgotten that he was there. Did anyone else notice the voice, I wondered. Or did he sound like me to only my own ears? It was almost disorienting, hearing myself speak from yards away.
Some clouds drifted across the sun, dropping the temperature by a few degrees, and we all started watching the sky warily. Esteban and I in particular had an aversion to stormy weather. That’s what happens once you get a firsthand look at the inside of a tornado.
The moment the first droplets hit the ground, Mira marshaled the troops into moving the party inside, everyone grabbing what they could. In moments, the backyard was empty, save for me and Axel. He lingered near the patio table, fingers walking across the neat tile squares in the tabletop. Marking out chess positions, I realized, from the last game we played. Before I’d packed the set up and taken it inside, of course. Because I was mad at him.
Being reminded of that made me feel petty, which then made me feel ashamed. And my response to shame is to get defensive, which comes out in a rather vicious brand of humor.
I smirked and asked him, “Not coming inside?” knowing full well that he couldn’t. Mira had long ago placed magical wards on the doors and windows, specifically to keep Axel out. I didn’t know what would happen if he tried to pass through them, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be pleasant.
Axel gave me a smirk in return, but it faded. We both stood uncomfortably in the rain, looking everywhere but at each other. Finally, he said, “How’ve you been, Jesse?”
“I’m still upright and breathing. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just asking. Been a while since I’ve had to try to make small talk.”
The rain picked up, the pleasant shower promising to become a downpour in short order. And since this was getting way too chick-flicky for me, I decided to cut straight to the meat. “What do you want, Axel?”
“What makes you think I want anything?”
“Because you always want something.” He always wanted one thing: my soul. Which was why I’d booted him out of my yard about six months ago. Big jerk nearly got me killed with his hints and taunts and sly smirks. “And what’s with the getup?” I gestured at his all-too-human body. Normally, his appearances involved possessed squirrels, and once a really nasty opossum.
“You ever think maybe I just wanted a burger? And a beer. Oh that beer was wonderful.” He paused a moment, a blissfully dreamy expression on his face until I cleared my throat. “It’s almost impossible to drink out of those bottles when you’re six inches tall, you know. And a beer-drinking squirrel is a bit conspicuous.” I just raised a brow at him. We both knew he hadn’t answered my question yet. “I was in the neighborhood, all right? Thought I’d swing by and say ‘hey’.”
I had to chuckle at that, and he gave me a surprised look. “Come on. You really expect me to buy that? You used to be better at this.”
For a moment he tried to find something to say to refute me, but. .. well, you just can’t. He finally chuckled and shrugged again. “Yeah, I did. Guess my heart’s not in it right now.”
“Maybe you need a vacation.”
“Ah, wouldn’t that be grand? Somewhere warm, with a beach…” There was that wistfulness to his face again, for all of about three seconds. Then something in his eyes became more… pointed, somehow. Sharper. “Aren’t you taking a vacation here soon? Your annual camping trip thingy?”
“Yeah.” He obviously knew, already. It wasn’t like I was revealing trade secrets. “We’re leaving day after tomorrow.” Immediately following the annual Dawson family barbecue and snarky T-shirt contest always came the annual guys’ paintball extravaganza, in the wilds of Colorado. Yet another attempt to make all the amends I needed to.
“That’s good! You should definitely go do that.” He did everything but clap his hands in glee. “A vacation might do you a world of good, and all that fresh air out in the middle of nowhere should be exhilarating…” He paused in his enthusiastic babbling when I frowned at him. “What?”
“Since when did you become a travel guide?”
“What, just because I’m a demon, I can’t appreciate nature’s bounty?”
I winced and glanced behind me, but they’d all gone inside. Only Mira remained in the kitchen, cleaning up and looking over her shoulder to check on me just a little bit more than necessary. I waved to her, but she didn’t wave back. Her gaze went to Axel, then back to me with a very clear “Get him out of here” message.
Yeah, cause I wanted to be standing out in the rain chitchatting with a demon. “You need to go.”
“Yeah, figured as much. She hates me.” He leaned to the side to look around me, offering Mira a smile that I know she wasn’t going to return.
“ I hate you.”
“If you truly hated me, you’d have had her ward the yard.” He grinned at me.
“I didn’t actually expect you to come back.”
“We always come back.” His smile vanished instantly, and his eyes flared red for a heartbeat. It seemed more an unconscious thing than his usual posturing. “You should remember that. We always come back, Jesse.” For a moment, I thought he’d say more; then he just stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered off around the corner of the house, shoulders hunched against the steady rain.
I waited for longer than was probably necessary, to make sure he was really gone, and Mira handed me a towel as I came inside.
“What did he want?” Worry warred with outright hostility in her green eyes. My wife was ready to go to war, if need be. God, I loved her.
“I don’t know. He was… being strange.” She raised a brow at me. “Stranger than usual. Did anyone else realize?”
“No. Why would they?”
And that was a huge relief, really. Even my friends who knew what I did in my spare time-Will, who patched me up; Marty, who crafted my weapons; and Cole, whose soul I’d saved-knew nothing about Axel. I suppose, deep down, I was ashamed of myself for even talking to him. I’d never told anyone but Mira. And Esteban now, I guess. The circle widens.
“Here, take these into the living room. They’ve got the football game on.” Mira plopped a bowl of tortilla chips into my hands and shooed me out of the kitchen.
Over the course of the evening I couldn’t forget Axel, but I did manage to push him to the back of my mind for the most part. I had more important things to do. Things like laughing at Will’s truly horrific impressions, teasing Marty about his upcoming foray into fatherhood, just spending time with my little brother, which seemed to happen so rarely anymore.
We watched football. We mocked the commercials. We discussed world events like grown-ups ought to. Seemed like there was something going wrong in every corner of the globe, lately. Riots. Droughts. Unr
est and discontent, fledgling conflicts that promised to grow into mini-wars and disasters just poised to strike. Is it any wonder that I’d been in a crappy mood for the last few months? Every time I flipped the TV on, the world was going to hell, and…
See, that’s what I’m talking about right there. The sudden dives into dark thoughts, the overwhelming sense of impending doom. Like there was this giant boot somewhere, and I was just waiting for it to drop on my head. It wasn’t like me, and even I knew it. That’s what I was supposed to be working on. I would enjoy my friends, dammit.
And if I fell into a brooding silence, I had Anna and Nicky there to clamber into my lap, chattering about anything and everything. It didn’t matter what. It was nearly impossible to be glum with the pair of them in close proximity.
I had Dr. Bridget there to threaten electroshock therapy (and of course the guys knew just where to get a spare car battery to make that happen, if she was serious). Her keen eyes watched me when she thought I wasn’t looking, the medical professional in her always analyzing, diagnosing. I couldn’t blame her. It’s what she did, and she was good.
I had Mira. And she was just perfect, hiding her worry much better than I did, touching my shoulder lightly every time she walked past the couch. More than anything, that tiny bit of contact did me a heap of good. Just that reminder that I wasn’t alone, and someone amazing loved me. I glanced over my shoulder to give her a grateful smile.
And somehow, somewhere, Mira and Bridget got their heads together, and before any of us realized just how it happened, Cam-short-for-Cameron had been invited along on our camping/paintball trip.
Oh how wonderful.
3
Nothing can put a dent in a man’s dignity so quickly as being forced to parade around a doctor’s examination room in nothing but a paper sheet. But after my injuries last spring, Mira insisted that I get Dr. Bridget’s okay before I went traipsing off into the wilds of Colorado. So, here I was doing laps while my friend the doctor watched me critically.
Not that I mind good-looking women staring at me, normally. Dr. Bridget was curvy in all the right places, even in the tailored suit she was wearing for the day. Funny how she looked so different here at her office, her dark hair all pulled back and tamed, than at my house with her hair in pigtails and wearing shorts and a smart-ass T-shirt. The two sides of Dr. Bridget.
“Are you having any more pain?” She jotted down some notes in my file as I hopped back up on the table.
“Nope. Everything seems to be fully functional.” Her hands were ice cold when she started groping my calf, and I jumped. “Geez, Bridge! Did you go juggle snowballs or something before coming in here?”
She smiled sweetly at me over the rims of her new glasses. “Iced them down just for you, Jesse dear.”
The scars on my calf were still nicely pink and hairless, circles the size of fifty-cent pieces adorning both sides where a crab-demon had stabbed me last January. I didn’t think that was a body-piercing fad that was going to catch on. Innocuous in appearance now, that wound had almost cost me my leg, the demon’s poison invading my body despite all medical intervention. Only my wife’s magic had kept me from having Stumpy as a nickname.
Of course, it was the torn muscle on the inside of that same leg that had landed me back in Dr. Bridget’s office. That particular injury was earned by falling on my ass on a wet floor (speaking of bruised dignity). Well, and the running around fighting hellhounds and dodging tornados after that hadn’t helped either.
But I’d been a good boy ever since, I promise! I’d given up walking with a cane (most of the time) only two months ago, and I’d been diligent with my physical therapy. I was hoping I’d get credit for time served.
I wasn’t sure what Dr. Bridget was looking for with the poking and prodding, but she found it. Or didn’t find it. Whichever one was the good one.
With a sigh, she stood up and leaned against the counter. “You know I’m not in favor of this trip, right?”
“You may have mentioned it once or a thousand times.” I put on my best begging eyes. Hey, it works on Mira. Sometimes. “C’mon, Doc, please? Pleeeeeeease?”
She tried real hard not to laugh, and finally managed to keep it to an exasperated chuckle. “You have no shame, do you?”
“None.”
“Yeah, I guess you can go. Just make sure you pay attention, and if it starts hurting, take it easy. Go get dressed.”
I gave a little “woo-hoo!” of celebration, and ducked into the tiny curtained alcove to get my pants back on. I expected to hear the door open and close as the good doctor left the room, and when that didn’t happen, I knew she wasn’t done with me. “Something on your mind, Bridge?”
“Mira says you’re still not sleeping well.”
“Why is it that I always seem to come up in conversation between you two?” Annoyance made the words a bit sharper than I’d meant. But dammit, why was my business everyone’s business? Deep breath, Jess. No reason to rip her head off, she’s just doing her job.
“She’s worried about you.” Even without seeing her, I could hear the frown in her voice. Part of it was the doctor in her, being irritated at a stubborn patient. Part of it was my wife’s best friend, being pissed at me for upsetting said wife. “Are those sleeping pills not helping?”
Fully clothed, I pulled the curtain aside so I could at least look at her while we were talking. “Wouldn’t know, I didn’t take them.”
She sighed again. “Jess-”
“No. Just, no. I’m not going to drug myself out of my gourd. It’s not that bad.” Truth was, I hated the fog the sleeping pills caused. I was still very aware that someone had tried to run me off the road last March. That person was still out there. I couldn’t afford to be anything less than alert.
Of course, the lack of sleep wasn’t helping that cause either. I always dreamed about my fights. It’s just the way my brain processes my bizarre excuse for a life. But in the past few months, the nightmares were getting worse. One of them was being particularly persistent, and when that one ripped and clawed its way through my head, there was no sleeping for the rest of the night. I called him the Yeti. It was almost four years ago that I’d faced him, and while he hadn’t killed me, I sure as hell hadn’t gotten out unscathed. There wasn’t a single night in the past month that I hadn’t woken up in a panic, flailing against something that wasn’t even there. In general, I was averaging about five hours a night. On a good night.
And doctor or not, it was none of her damn business. “Am I cleared for the trip?”
She eyed me for long moments, pursing her lips like she really wanted to say no, but eventually she nodded. “Yeah. Knock yourself out.” With one last scribble in my file, we were done.
I was bending to lace up my combat boots when she paused again. “Hey, Jesse?” There was a change in her voice. Hard to describe, but in my mind it always signaled her change from Dr. Bridget, to just plain Bridge. I looked up. “Thanks for taking Cam along. It’s been hard for him to meet folks here.”
This was the moment in those strained conversations where you either continued the argument, or let it go. I took a deep breath and opted to let it go. Part of me was absurdly proud of myself over that. I offered her a small smile, showing her I had no hard feelings, before turning back to my bootlaces. “He met you, didn’t he? How’d that happen?”
“Church.” That made me chuckle, though I carefully hid it. I was not surprised at all.
Finished with my boots, I stood up, flipping my hair out of my face. “Well, just remember, he does anything hinky and I’ll whup his ass. You just say the word.”
The doctor chuckled, and even blushed a little. “Thanks, Jess.” That even earned me a one-armed hug. Go me!
I followed her out to the front desk to do all the pertinent paperwork, signing my name with a flourish to celebrate my release from doctor’s care. I hadn’t had insurance for months, and while Dr. Bridget didn’t really expect me to pay full price, I felt g
uilty about shorting her any. I mean, this was her livelihood. Not her fault insurance companies didn’t cover demon slaying.
“Bridget!”
“Cam!” I looked up in time to see Cam-short-for-Cameron appear out of nowhere and sweep my doctor into a deep kiss. Quickly, I averted my eyes. Just… don’t wanna see stuff like that, y’know? After a suspiciously long time, I heard her giggle-actually giggle!-and assumed it was safe to look up again.
“I thought I’d see if you had time to go to lunch, since I’m here.” Mr. Romance. Ugh.
Bridget patted her dark hair back into place and straightened her shirt a little, blushing bright red. “Is Lisa done with you?”
The tall former priest nodded. “Clean bill of health. She says I should be able to get up and down the trail just fine.” Finally, someone remembered I was standing there. “Oh! Hey, Jesse!”
“Cameron.” I was polite. Civil. I even smiled. I just couldn’t bring myself to greet him with the same kind of enthusiasm he showed me. I’m sure it was some kind of psychobabble alpha male BS, but… I still wasn’t sold on Mr. Not-a-Priest. Not yet.
He looked my T-shirt over and chuckled. “TRUST ME, I’M A JEDI, hmm?”
“These are not the droids you’re looking for.” Look, I could joke, see? “You ready for tomorrow?”
“Yeah, looks like it. Marty said that he had some paintball equipment I could borrow. I’ve never played before, so I’m really looking forward to it.” His dimples showed when he grinned. Could he look any more preppy?
“We’re gonna head out real early in the morning, so be ready when we swing by.”
He nodded. “Marty gave me all the details. It sounds like a lot of fun. It’s great that his uncle lets you use his cabin.”
Marty’s uncle Douglas, though well beyond any age to go hiking into the wilds himself, was more than happy to let our bunch of miscreants crash there for a few days every year. We’d even made friends with the caretaker’s family, and they’d be joining us once we got up there. It usually made for hijinks and hilarity.
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