So I Married A Demon Slayer

by Love, Kathy; Fox, Angie; George, Lexi

  “No.”

  “You’re a liar, Rafe Dalvahni.” Angry tears filled her eyes. “You love me but you’re afraid to admit it.”

  “A Dalvahni warrior does not know fear. A warrior—”

  “Please, no more lectures on the mighty Dal. I’ve heard enough.” She turned her back to him. “I want to go home. Mama and Daddy are expecting us.”

  Her parents were throwing a welcome home barbeque in their honor that afternoon. It was supposed to be a joyous time, a celebration with family and friends.

  Yeah, right.

  Bunny walked over to the car and got behind the wheel. A moment later, the passenger door opened and Rafe got in. She backed the caddy out of the driveway and drove north toward Hannah.

  They rode home in silence.

  The honeymoon was over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time Bunny parked the Cadillac in front of her parents’ house later that afternoon, her nerves were raw. The silent, tense drive home had seemed endless. She and Rafe were having their first fight, unless you counted the scene in the rose garden at the church, which she didn’t. That hadn’t been a fight. That had been more like an explosion of surprises culminating in Bunny getting the hell out of Dodge.

  Or Hannah, to be more exact.

  This was a fight. She was furious with Rafe for a number of reasons.

  For one thing, she was pretty pissed off about not being human anymore. Not that she’d rather be human and dead, which is what she’d be if he hadn’t saved her. But still, when one person knocked another person clean out of one species and into another without so much as a by your leave that ranked as a major pisser-offer in her book. Especially if she was the one being relocated.

  As for the whole Super Friends aspect of the new and improved Bunny, she hadn’t wrapped her brain around that one yet. She couldn’t pat her head and rub her stomach at the same time, but now she had powers? Puh-leeze.

  Still, she was starting to think there might be something to it. She was good at denial, but too many strange things had happened in the past few weeks to continue to ignore the possibility. What if she lost her temper and hurt somebody? The thought horrified her.

  As for Rafe’s refusal to admit his feelings, that made her insane. He loved her, she was sure of it. It was in his eyes when he looked at her. It was in his touch. She heard it in his voice when he said her name. She read it in his expression when they made love. The big dope loved her, but refused to admit it.

  Cooper waved at them from the front porch. “Hey, you two lovebirds, get out of the car. Everybody’s out back. We got brisket and butt and ribs on the grill. And Mom’s made tater salad and Audrey brought a big old pan of baked beans and we got us a keg. Strap on your feed bag and head for the trough.”

  Bunny’s stomach did a nervous flip-flop. How in the world was she supposed to smile and make nice around her family and friends when she was so unhappy?

  “Hope you saved your hungries.” Audrey breezed off the porch and onto the sidewalk. She wore a pair of khaki shorts, a white linen top, and brown polka dot flip flops. Her dark, shiny hair swished around her shoulders as she walked. “We got enough food to feed an army.”

  It always amazed Bunny that her burly, rough-around-the-edges brother and sweet little Audrey Jones, kindergarten teacher, soprano in the choir at the First Baptist Church, and Mary Kay consultant extraordinaire, ended up together. They were like Jack Sprat and his wife in reverse. But at five-foot-two and one hundred and five pounds, Audrey ruled the roost and the rooster. And the rooster loved every minute of it. Coop adored Audrey and their two kids and Audrey adored them right back.

  Bunny wanted that. That’s what she thought she would be getting when she married Rafe. But he claimed he didn’t love her, couldn’t love her. She didn’t believe him, but it still hurt. Oh, man, did it hurt.

  A dull ache formed in her chest. Any second now she was going to start bawling like a baby. She had to get out of here. Food, she needed food, massive quantities of it, if she was going to survive this evening.

  She jumped out of the car and dashed up the brick sidewalk past Audrey.

  “Welcome home,” Audrey said as Bunny streaked past.

  Bunny mumbled hello and kept going. Behind her, she heard the car door slam and the murmur of voices as Audrey greeted Rafe. He called her name, but she barreled up the sidewalk. Her nose quivered like a hound on the scent. The sweet, smoky smell of barbeque was in the air, tantalizing, mouthwatering. She smelled bacon and the caramelized onions in Audrey’s baked beans. Even at a distance, her new and improved super sniffer detected the faint whiff of mustard in the potato salad. And somebody—some wonderful somebody, probably her sweetheart of a mother—had made banana pudding.

  She dashed around the side of the house and through the gate. Her parents’ backyard was long and narrow and partially shaded by towering oaks. They had a pool and a state-of-the-art outdoor kitchen with a fireplace, a hybrid grill, a pizza oven and refrigerated drawers. Her parents loved to entertain.

  And what better excuse to entertain than a welcome home party for their newly married daughter? Their only daughter and the baby of the family.

  Bunny had tried to talk them out of it. The thought of seeing some of her parents’ friends after her disaster of a reception gave her hives. She needn’t have worried. Rafe had assured her Brand would take care of everything.

  According to him, the Dalvahni were duty bound to make things right under something called the Directive Against Conspicuousness. Apparently, there was a wheelbarrow load of directives the Dalvahni were supposed to follow. Round up rogue demons. Protect lesser creatures from the djegrali. Clean up after yourself so the locals don’t get freaked out.

  Don’t fall in love.

  Brand must have done a good job with the cleanup, because the only memories her parents seemed to have of the reception were glowing ones. Thank goodness.

  Mama had called them at the beach all excited because there was a nice write-up in the paper about the wedding. There was no mention in the article of skinny-dipping geezers or a cloud of demon dust hanging over Hannah, or anything else unusual. It was like the weirdness never happened.

  Mama had expressed her disappointment that Bunny and Rafe had left the reception early.

  “But I do understand,” she had said on the phone. “Believe it or not, I remember what it’s like to be young and in love.”

  Brand even planted memories of the wedding cake in everyone’s minds.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mama had said before she hung up. “They went through that cake like a horde of locusts! It’s a good thing I had the caterer make an extra tier and put it in my freezer. Otherwise, you and Rafe wouldn’t have any wedding cake to eat on your first anniversary for good luck.”

  Her first anniversary? At this rate, she and Rafe wouldn’t make it to the end of the week. She was losing him.

  Maybe she’d never had him.

  Oh, God, where was the chow? How was she supposed to deal with a broken heart on an empty stomach? She needed something to eat. She needed it now.

  She looked around. Coop’s boys were doing cannonballs into the pool. Allison, Cam’s teenage daughter, sat in a lounge chair listening to her iPod and pretending to be bored. She kept stealing envious, sidelong glances at her younger cousins frolicking in the water. Over by the grill, Daddy was drinking a beer and talking to some of his friends while he did the manly cook-the-raw-animal-flesh-over-a-fire thing.

  Bunny followed her nose. There, under the roofed dining area, was a cloth-covered table loaded with food. Yesss!

  She made a beeline for it, only to be drawn up short by the sound of her mother’s voice.

  “You’re home!” Mama hurried over to give her a hug. “My goodness but you look pretty in that dress! Where’s Rafe?”

  “He’s out front talking to Audrey,” Bunny said.

  Her mother squeezed her arm. “Marriage agrees with you, sweetie. W
hy, you’re practically glowing!”

  Great, you’re glowing, Smart Bunny said. Stick a battery up your ass and call you a nightlight. Pregnant women glow. People are going to figure it out pretty soon. Your MOTHER’S going to figure it out. Are you going to tell Rafe about this baby or let him read about it in the paper?

  Bunny wanted to scream at Smart Bunny to leave her alone. Instead, she ignored her, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything devastatingly clever to say.

  And because her mind was on barbeque sauce.

  Her daddy made two kinds of sauce, a thick, sweet tomato-based concoction with brown sugar, garlic and black pepper, and a tangy, thin mustard sauce with cider vinegar and chipotle flakes. She liked them both. Should she put the mustard sauce on the ribs and the sweet sauce on the brisket or vice versa? Or maybe she should mix the two?

  Her mother’s next words brought her thoughts of food to a screeching halt.

  Leaning closer, Mama said, “Honey Bun, I can’t stop looking at you. It’s like you’re lit from within. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  Hah! Smart Bunny crowed. Told yah!

  “What is this?” Rafe materialized at Bunny’s side.

  “Mercy, Rafe!” Mama swatted him on the arm. “You scared the life out of me. Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a person like that?”

  “Bunny?” Rafe stared at her with something like panic in his eyes.

  He was very pale beneath his tan. He knew. Oh, God, he knew. It was all over his face. He looked like somebody had kicked him.

  Smart Bunny was making rude noises in the background. Bunny tuned her out. This was not how she wanted to tell him. She didn’t know how she wanted to tell him, but this wasn’t it. Not standing on her parents’ lawn at a barbeque. Oh, by the way, Smoochie Muffin, I’m preggers. Would you pass the coleslaw, please?

  “Mama’s right, Rafe,” she heard herself say. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

  Bloop. Rafe disappeared.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rafe stalked out of the burning bar. Behind him, he heard coughing and cursing as the last of the humans stumbled out of the smoke and flames and into the parking lot. The smart ones took one look at him when he walked in the door of the seedy tavern and fled. Those less intelligent or those too drunk to notice him—or both—stayed. One of these, a beefy, tattooed fellow sitting at the bar, had foolishly commented on Rafe’s warrior garb.

  Looking up from his beer, the man eyed Rafe’s leather breeches.

  “Look-ee what just walked in,” he said, with a dismissive sneer. “Move it on down the road, mister. This ain’t no pansy bar.”

  Rafe processed the strange term. Pansy: A hybrid garden plant derived from wild violets. Also a disparaging slang term used by human males to indicate weakness or effeteness in another male. Similar terms with same meaning: Wuss, wimp, candyass.

  Translation: Insult.

  Rafe threw the man out the window. The barkeep charged him and Rafe threw him out the other window—the squat, tin-roofed structure boasted a grand total of two. The skirmish that followed between Rafe and the remaining patrons was brief and unsatisfactory, ending when the ceiling and walls inexplicably caught fire.

  He looked around, itching to continue the fight. The human males who encountered his gaze slunk away into the darkness. He suppressed a surge of annoyance. This was the third alehouse he’d visited tonight in search of a fight. A real fight, not what passed for battle in this dimension. The men of this time were no match for a Dal. Not that they ever were, but human warriors of other eras had some skill in hand-to-hand combat. He’d fought alongside some of the best of them: Persian Immortals, Romans, Vikings, and Crusaders. And against them as well, when they were possessed by the djegrali.

  At least a demon-possessed human presented something of a challenge with its superhuman strength, wily intelligence, speed, and ability to shape-shift. An ordinary human, on the other hand, was no match for him, even armed with modern weapons. So far this evening, he’d been shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, axed, and hit over the head with any number of objects, including a chair, several beer bottles and something called a tire tool.

  He welcomed the pain. He reveled in it.

  It never lasted long enough.

  The physical discomfort was fleeting and of no moment. The cuts healed almost as soon as they were inflicted. His body repelled the foreign projectiles the humans fired at him. Their meager blows were no more bothersome to him than a stinging insect. But the momentary distraction helped him forget Bunny’s startling pronouncement this afternoon, if only for a heartbeat.

  She was with child.

  In his eons-long existence he’d been in combat countless times, witnessed firsthand the aftermath of war, famine, death, disease and despair on the innocent. But it was as if he viewed these things from the other side of a curtain, shielded from the pain and sorrow other beings felt.

  He had not experienced emotion, other than battle rage and lust . . . until he met Bunny.

  She stripped away the curtain, leaving him susceptible to a bewildering onslaught of feelings he was unprepared for and did not understand. He vowed to deal with them. He refused to succumb to the madness that had felled Brand. He would enjoy Bunny’s body and the delight of being with her, but he would remain detached and aloof. He would not lose control. He was a Dalvahni warrior, strong and invincible, invulnerable to the weaknesses that plagued lesser creatures. He would conquer this insanity.

  He had succeeded for the most part, though it had been vastly harder than anything he’d done before. She was so open and giving, so full of light and love and laughter. He hungered for her as surely as the djegrali, drawn to her goodness like the proverbial moth to the flame. He fought it. Being around her was a constant pleasure-pain as he struggled to maintain his indifference. He told himself he could take what she offered without being affected. He was mistaken. Somehow, she had penetrated his defenses, leaving him weak and vulnerable.

  And now this.

  A child.

  He could not love her. He did not know how. The Dalvahni were not constructed for emotion.

  As for being a father, he had no notion of where to start. His earliest memories were of training in the Hall of Warriors. No mother or father, only endless fighting exercises and harsh discipline. The Dalvahni did not love and they certainly did not sire children. Such a thing was unheard of. Under the Great Directive, the Dal spent their lust on thralls, sterile, emotion-drinking sex slaves. They did not couple with human women and they did not have children.

  They did not marry, either. But he had married Bunny out of duty, not love.

  Hadn’t he?

  In the distance, he heard the wail of sirens. Something hot and ugly still churned inside him, undiminished by the encounter in the bar. The suffocating rage and frustration boiled to the surface. He flung out his hand and an empty car exploded. He made a fist with his other hand and two unoccupied trucks crumpled like paper. He gestured, and the ruined vehicles flew through the air and smashed into a line of parked cars. The noise of metal bending and glass shattering was terrific, but not loud enough to drown out Bunny’s words. I’m pregnant, Rafe. We’re going to have a baby.

  We’re going to have a baby. He made a chopping motion with one hand, slicing a car in two. Baby. He gestured and a tree at the edge of the parking lot burst into flames. Baby . . . baby . . . ba . . .

  He raised his arm to strike another blow.

  “Enough,” a deep voice said out of the darkness.

  Rafe lowered his arm. “Well met, brother.”

  Brand stepped out of the shadows. His face was an expressionless mask, but his green eyes blazed. “I cleaned up the last two messes you made. I will not clean up a third. Take care of it, or else.”

  “Or else what?”

  “Or else I will not fight you. A fight is what you want, is it not?”

  Fierce exultation swept through him. “Yes,” Rafe said.


  “Meet me at the abandoned quarry outside of town.” Brand raised his brows. “When you are done with your temper tantrum, of course.”

  He turned and walked away.

  The sirens drew closer. Quickly, Rafe smothered the flames that consumed the beer hall and the blazing tree and restored the tavern to its former state. He did the same with the broken vehicles. One of the trucks was little more than a ragged heap of metal before he destroyed it. Now it looked like new. Oh, well, some human would be happy this night.

  He made himself invisible and waited. Three black and white cars screeched into the parking lot, lights flashing and sirens wailing. The words Hannah Police were written on the side of the vehicles. Uniformed men got out of the cars and looked around.

  “Damn if it ain’t another false alarm,” one of the officers said. “Third frigging one tonight. If I catch the joker doing this, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

  Men and women trickled out of the darkness in twos and threes. Rafe muddled their memories of the fight and the fire. As an afterthought, he started a small blaze in the kitchen and set off the smoke detectors. The fire would be easily contained and would allay the suspicions of the authorities, a precaution needed in case he overlooked someone who was in the bar. Satisfied he’d set things right, Rafe slipped into the night.

  The old quarry was located five miles outside of town. Rafe visited the place once with Bunny when the two of them went for a long drive. Her grandfather had worked at the quarry and Bunny had regaled Rafe with its history. The quarry had operated for several decades, pumping sand out of the Devil River to be used in glass and concrete production, until increasingly stringent environmental restrictions and rising permit costs shut it down. The dredges, front loaders, and crushers were sold off to other companies but the mountains of sand remained, silent white sentinels guarding the bank of the river. In the daytime, Bunny said, it was a popular hangout for bored teenagers, who liked to run the dunes in their pickup trucks. But at night the quarry stayed deserted. Strange things happened at the quarry after dark, and people stayed away.