More Than Fiends

by Maureen Child

  He sucked in air, and his chest swelled to amazing proportions. The frown on his face was enough to terrify anybody else. But my daughter’s life was at stake here, and it was going to take more than Mr. Scowly Face to scare me off.

  Besides, he’d had a perfect opportunity to kill me—when he was lying on top of me—and he hadn’t taken it. I figured I was safe. At least for the moment.

  Reaching out, he grabbed my upper arms and hauled me up close to him. Okay, maybe not safe safe. Smoke lifted and twisted in the air between us as the spray came into contact with his body. But he didn’t seem to mind. If it was actually burning his skin, he had some great self-control, because I couldn’t see a trace of pain in his eyes. Just pissed-off male.

  “I told you already. I like you,” he said, grinding each word out as if he were spitting bullets. “I’m working for the judge. I’m not going to help him kidnap your daughter, and I’m not going to let him kill you.”

  I swallowed hard, and damned if I didn’t feel tears at the backs of my eyes. How stupid was that? For some damn reason, I really appreciated that little speech. I only hoped I could believe it.

  “Thanks,” I said when I was pretty sure the tight knot in my throat had dissolved enough to allow for speech.

  His gaze was still locked on me, and I heard him sigh in exasperation. “You don’t believe me.”

  I thought about that for a minute. Sure, he said he was on my side, but how did I know that? Take his word? The word of the demon who had the guy who’d crashed into my car working for him? He hadn’t exactly fired him or anything. How did I know that Devlin wasn’t still working for the judge and just trying to keep me off guard?

  How did I know that he was really a “good” demon? For all I knew, he could have been plotting against me like crazy.

  “I’d like to.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  His hands on my arms were still tight. I could feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin, right through the fabric of my sweatshirt. And the twists of smoke were twining about our heads like misty wreaths.

  “Just the demon thing,” I admitted.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Guess I’ll just have to find a way to convince you I can be trusted, then.”

  “Firing the guy who tried to run me down like a dog would be a good start,” I pointed out.

  “Firing him wouldn’t help. I can’t keep an eye on him if he’s not here, now, can I?”

  True. But how did I know that he wasn’t keeping him around to make sure the demon’s next plan worked better? Oh, I had such a headache. I just wasn’t made for intrigue, you know? Give me a dirty house, and I’m your girl. Give me problems to solve, and I had to go lie down for a while.

  “Fine, then,” I said on a sigh. “If you won’t fire him, then how’re you going to convince me to trust you?” I pulled in a gulp of air when his hands left my upper arms and moved to cup my breasts. “Oh man…” I think I actually whimpered, but I really don’t want to admit that. “That is so not playing fair.”

  His thumbs moved over my nipples, and despite the sweatshirt and my bra, I swear I could feel his skin on mine. My hoo-hah trembled, clearly remembering the last time we’d been here with Devlin, my legs quaked, and the edges of my vision blurred.

  He smiled.

  “I want you again,” he said, dipping his head to nibble at my earlobe. His teeth caught the edge of the silver hoop in my ear and gave it a tug.

  Swear to God, I felt that tug all the way down to my toes.

  “I…um…I…” God. Brilliant, Cassidy. Is it any wonder you’re such a freaking demon magnet?

  “You want me, too,” he whispered, his breath as hot as his mouth against my neck.

  “Um…I…” Somebody help me.

  “The spray won’t stop me,” he whispered, teeth nibbling at my jugular.

  Jesus. He was just a demon, right? Not a vampire?

  Did I care?

  Not at the moment.

  “Doesn’t it hurt at least?” I moaned as his tongue swept across my skin. “The spray, I mean?”

  “Burns like hell,” he admitted and grabbed my breasts in a tight, firm grip, squeezing until I was whimpering for more.

  Holy crap.

  The slut puppy was back.

  Standing in a hallway of an exclusive sex club, I wanted Devlin to pull off my clothes and take me against the damn wall. Oh boy…

  “Devlin—”

  “Cassidy…” Carmen called for me from down the hall, and her voice was like a bucket of cold water dousing me from head to toe. I grabbed hold of Devlin’s wrist and oh so reluctantly pulled him off me. Seriously, the Duster strength? Pretty impressive.

  “I have to go see what she needs,” I said, backing away while I still could. I made a mental note to buy Carmen a cinnamon roll when we were finished here. She really had called me just in the nick of time. Whether she knew it or not.

  His eyes narrowed, and he huffed out an impatient breath before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Fine. We’ll continue this…discussion, another time.”

  Oh, boy howdy. I swallowed hard, turned and walked quickly away. Frankly, I’m surprised my knees worked.

  “Cass?” he said, and I stopped, swiveling my head to look at him. “Don’t use the demon spray on the windows in here,” he said and gave me a half smile that jittered across every single nerve ending I had. “Some of my customers might not be as…forgiving about the scent as I am.”

  “Right.” Then the hereditary Demon Duster scurried for the safety of Carmen’s scowls.

  Thea was at the mall with Zoe, and I was in the backyard training with Jasmine. The late September air was cool, and clouds were rolling in off the ocean in a thick, black bank that promised rain later. I was so damn grateful the heat was gone that I wanted to hit my knees and thank the weather gods for the reprieve.

  Unfortunately, I was a little too busy.

  Jasmine’s sharp, dark gaze followed me as I jumped and lunged and stretched my way around the yard, feeling like an idiot. For God’s sake, did it matter how much I trained? Every one of the demons in La Sombra had been demons a hell of a lot longer than I’d been a Duster.

  But then I thought about Judge Jenks and his threat against Thea, and I knew that I’d have to train to be able to protect her. Unless Devlin did what he promised and set up a truce meeting with the judge.

  Truce.

  Was that even possible?

  Did I even want a damn truce with a demon who was trying to hand off my baby girl as a sex slave? Nah. What I wanted was the old goat’s disintegrating heart in my hand. Hence the stupid training.

  My head was pounding, and it didn’t help hearing Jasmine shouting instructions in a loud voice completely at odds with her appearance. Then Sugar started barking, and my headache blossomed into Brain Tumor mode.

  Just as I turned to shout at the damn dog, though, a tall, thin woman with dark blond hair, bright red eyes and knife-blade-sharp fingernails about a mile long leaped over the white picket fence and charged me.

  “Whoa!” I shrieked. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. Hey, you face down a demented woman in a paisley wrap dress determined to gouge your face off, and see if you can keep from screaming!

  The bitch came at me like a freak in a horror film and shouted, “Die, you cow!”

  Cow?

  Excuse me?

  I grabbed the closest thing at hand—Sugar’s slobbery Frisbee—and pitched it at the woman, hitting her square in the throat with enough strength to dent the Frisbee and make her pause long enough to catch her breath. She gagged a little, and I used the distraction to jump straight up and over her. Like Wonder Woman, I’m leaping around the damn yard like I’ve got springs on my feet.

  I heard the bitch snarl as she turned for a second go at me. She was bent over at the waist, running at me, and I hit her stomach with my shoulder, lifting her up and over me like she was a grain of salt I was throwing for good luck.
r />   Damn, I was getting good at this. Suddenly, I wished for a video camera to capture my greatness and show to doubting Logan so maybe he’d believe me when I told him demons were running rampant in his little town.

  A second later, though, I was through thinking and trying to stay one step ahead of the demon woman. She had grass clinging to her upper lip from where she’d hit the yard on her fall. She spit it out, narrowed her gaze on me and made another lunge. I swung from the shoulder, my fist hit her chin, and she flew back like somebody had a rope around her waist and gave her a good tug. Hell, my knuckles didn’t even hurt.

  I was good.

  “Stop playing with it and kill it,” Jasmine shouted from the sidelines. I shot her a look. Backseat Duster.

  Demon Woman hit the ground hard a second time, and her ugly-ass dress hitched up over her legs to show off thigh-high nylons. And she was wearing sandals. For God’s sake, nobody had standards anymore.

  She pushed herself up from the grass, wiped her hair out of her eyes with those dagger nails of hers, and spit out another mouthful of grass.

  “Ew,” I said. “Gross out.”

  “You’re ruining everything!” the demon bitch spat. “He won’t look at me until you’re dead.”

  “Hey,” I countered, “I didn’t go into your backyard and call you a cow. I didn’t even say anything about that ugly-ass dress or your tacky nylons.”

  Her eyes went wider and hotter. Hard to believe, but they did. Like I said, I have this effect on people. Apparently, even on demons.

  “With your death, I’ll have his attention again.”

  “His?” I asked, crouching and watching her every move, trying to figure out how she was going to come at me before she did it. See? I can learn. “You mean the judge, right? He’s the one you want paying attention?”

  “With you around,” she snarled (and here I mean actually snarled—not a pretty sound), “he thinks of nothing but you.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” Okay, that was enough. She was pissed, and the trick, I thought, was to make her even madder, so she’d lose control and I could win fast. Shouldn’t be tough. I studied my fingernails with as much of a casual air as I could manage. “Gee, guess you’re just not demon enough to keep him interested, huh?”

  She spit again, and I made a mental note to hose down the yard. Demon cooties.

  “I’ll kill you and he’ll reward me.”

  “What? You’re doing this for credit?” I shouted, throwing both hands high. “I thought this was a demon jealousy thing.”

  She choked a laugh.

  “So you get brownie points for killing me?”

  Jasmine shouted, “Stop talking and kill it!”

  But this was just getting interesting.

  Demon Woman snorted and tossed her hair back. Pretty hair. Good highlights. “He’ll give me San Diego for this.”

  I glanced at Jasmine. “They can have whole cities all to themselves?”

  Jasmine only shouted, “Will you simply kill it? Now.”

  The demon charged again, and this time, I remembered the demon spray on the patio table. I grabbed it and whirled around, dropping into a crouch as I moved. She sailed past me, landing right in front of Jasmine. The old woman kicked her dead in the face, tossing her back at me. She landed on her feet this time and was preparing another pounce when I gave her a long squirt of the bottle, the liquid splashing over her face and across the top of her head.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” I said, just before I slapped my hand through that ugly dress, ripped out her heart and watched her wide, surprised eyes as she poofed.

  I was actually feeling pretty good.

  Until I looked at Jasmine.

  Her head was smoking.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “No. Fucking. Way.”

  Jasmine didn’t move. She just stood there, her head smoking, twists of gray spiraling in the cold, ocean wind, her gaze never leaving my face. Was she afraid to move? Afraid I might leap at her and rip out her heart? Damn it, a part of me wanted to.

  She’d lied to me. Made me trust her as the one person with answers in my strange new world, and now I find out she’s one of the monsters?

  “You’re a demon.”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “That’s it? Just yes?” Why wasn’t she spilling her guts? Trying to explain away her lies and keep me from killing her?

  Because she knew I wouldn’t. A real pisser for somebody to know you that well. I tossed the demon spray at a nearby chair and yanked at my own hair in frustration. “For chrissakes, Jasmine, don’t you think I deserve a little more than that?” I was shouting by then and didn’t really give a damn who heard me. “Maybe an explanation? Something along the lines of ‘Hey, did I forget to mention I’m from South Hell?’”

  Her lips pursed. Serious lipstick lines. “You’re becoming agitated.”

  “Boy howdy.”

  “There is no need.”

  “Hah!” I gave my hair another yank, then winced at the pain and told myself to knock it off. Being a Demon Duster was bad enough. Being a bald Demon Duster would just be ugly. So I walked off the mounting aggravation by stomping around my backyard until Sugar slunk away up to the porch and huddled next to the door. Great. Now I was scaring cowardly dogs.

  I stopped and faced the little old lady who looked more like a woman ready for a hot night of bingo than an ambassador from a Hell dimension. “You can’t be a demon. That’s not how it works. I can handle Devlin being a demon because, well, I just can, and the sex was pretty incredible—”

  Jasmine shuddered.

  “Hey, demon lovers are acceptable. It’s even been on TV and in the movies. But not you. You’re my guide. In the movies, you’re the wise old man who can read all the weird books written in a language nobody’s ever seen before! You can’t be a demon. That’s not how this is supposed to work. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  Jasmine sighed, pulled an embroidered hanky out of the cuff of her long-sleeved gray shirtdress and wiped what was left of the demon spray off her forehead.

  “Cassidy, I am on your side,” she said, moving over to perch gingerly on one of the lawn chairs. “I have been a guide to the women in your family for more than a hundred years.”

  “But—”

  “I’m also a demon.”

  “So you’re a good demon.”

  She smiled slightly. No more than a twist of her lips, really. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say good, but certainly not evil.”

  Well, that had the ring of truth to it, at least. Had to admit, she’d never struck me as the Pollyanna, goody-two-shoes type. Anyway, Jasmine was no saintly figure. More like a really determined drill sergeant.

  “Okay,” I said, taking the seat opposite her. “That’s honest.”

  “Of course it’s honest. I haven’t lied to you.”

  She actually had the nerve to look offended. Like I’d hurt her little demon feelings by not trusting her. Believing her. For God’s sake, bizzaro much?

  “I don’t see why you get to be the cranky one. You know, I’m the one with the list of complaints here, Jasmine.”

  “As you insist on reminding me every day of your training.”

  Fine. So I whined a little once in a while. I thought I was due. “There’s no reason to get nasty.”

  “You’re only upset because this is coming as a surprise to you.”

  “You think?” I countered and heard the really annoying shrieky tone to my voice but couldn’t seem to stop it. “So what you’re saying is, I shouldn’t be pissed or ripping out your heart because you didn’t lie to me. You just didn’t tell me stuff!”

  I could pretty much feel the top of my head getting ready to fly off, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, because what good would that do me?

  Sugar sneaked (at least, she considered it sneaking, but nobody could miss a dog of that size moving) down the steps and across the lawn to take a seat beside Jasmine. I glared at her. App
arently the dog had forgotten just who was in charge of the kibble around here.

  Jasmine, though, blew out an irritated breath aimed at me and dropped one hand to the top of Sugar’s head. The traitorous hug addict snuggled up to the old woman/demon and dropped her head in Jasmine’s lap.

  “I would have told you eventually,” Jasmine said.

  “Gee, that’s great. Thanks,” I said, flopping back in my seat and hitting the back of my head on the top of the Adirondack chair. I winced and straightened, giving her a glare. “That makes it all better. Hell, that’s right up there with Noah treading water and God saying, ‘I was going to tell you about building a boat eventually—and, hey, meant to tell you about the flood.’”

  “You are a trial,” Jasmine muttered, her black eyes narrowing a bit. “Your grandmother was never this much trouble.”

  “Excuuuuussse me.”

  “There is no need,” she said, as if I’d actually meant that sarcastic apology. “It’s not your fault entirely. You were unprepared for your duty. Your grandmother should have prepared you, and if your mother had survived—”

  “Back off, Bertha,” I snapped and got her attention in a flash. “Stop trying to make my mother sound like a deadbeat for dying and ruining your demon-killing plans.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah, you did,” I said and pushed my hair back out of my eyes. “And it’s not the first time you’ve done it. Maybe Gram should have told me, but the point is, she didn’t. So as soon as you knew I was in the dark, you should have told me everything.”

  I watched her for a long moment, wondering if she was actually going to try to defend herself, but finally, she nodded. “You’re quite right,” she said, and I wondered why in the hell a demon sounded like a Sunday school teacher. “I should have told you everything right from the beginning. I meant only to ease you into your duties.”

  “Fine,” I said. Hey, I can be magnanimous in victory. “I’m officially eased. So tell me now. And start with why a demon is helping me to kill demons.”

  The storm clouds were rushing in overhead. California didn’t have four actual seasons like most places, but when fall finally decided to arrive, it could get cool and rainy. Looked as if we were going to see a good storm for a change. All around us, the yard seemed to quiet, as though nature were taking a breath before the rain hit. As if maybe even the trees and bedraggled chrysanthemums in my garden were waiting to hear what Jasmine had to say.