Oh, for crying out loud, what had I done this time? Instead of taking the bait, I settled for introductions. “Mom, this is Dominic Bellatore, aka my good friend and colleague from work. Dominic, this is Charlene McGee, aka Mom.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McGee.” Dominic, who wore black jeans so tight they shouldn’t be legal and a tighter black T-shirt, took her hand in his and leaned down to kiss her softly on the cheek.
Oh, yeah, he was trying to get in good, and it was working. The unflappable woman who’d given birth to me blushed—actually blushed—and did the whole hair twirl thing. With her flawless skin, perfectly coiffed hair, and long, elegant fingers, it worked for her. She was super pretty, with Celtic features courtesy of Grandpa and Grandma’s Scottish roots. Always had been, and Megan had inherited those looks. My tan, envy-inspiring olive skin was my gift from my father. Megan also got Mom’s height and other features that made men drool and women jealous. Without the burden of working multiple jobs while worrying about raising two daughters solo, Mom had blossomed into a stately and self-possessed mature woman.
I hoped I aged that well, though I would not make the mistake of mentioning that again.
“I’m pleased to meet you, too, Mr. Bellatore,” she said, her voice a little husky.
Wow, this was getting awkward. My mom was totally flirting with my almost boyfriend. I needed to get her a date, or possibly a male escort.
I shoved the bouquet of flowers into her hands, grabbed D, and dragged him to the living room. Megan hadn’t arrived yet, but her hubby, Brad, was there, decked out in his standard white shirt, boring tie, and slacks that screamed fiscal responsibility.
Brad didn’t bother looking up from his phone when I said hello, but he did a double take when he noticed D. He stood and took D’s proffered hand in a firm, no-nonsense grip that served as a civilized dick-measuring contest, at least from my point of view. D must’ve gripped Brad’s hand hard enough to pass whatever stupid alpha male test this ritual embodied, since Brad relaxed and offered to grab a beer for him.
Enticing aromas wafted from the kitchen, making my mouth water as a very unladylike rumble from my stomach echoed through the living room. D gave me a sidelong smirk while my mother shot a look of disapproval in my direction.
“Jane, have you been skipping lunch again?”
I cringed. That voice, that maternal glare, the judgment…it was like being five years old all over again, which was why I normally avoided visits. And it wasn’t that I’d skipped lunches growing up. I’d split lunches with D—on weekends, in the summers, on days off from school. Mom had been okay with nighttime snacks, but being on a tight budget, she’d drawn the line at the extra helpings during lunch and dinner. As soon as D was old enough to begin wandering the streets of Nashville, more food had mysteriously appeared in our pantry.
Before that, however, Mom just assumed I was too lazy or inept to feed myself when Megan and I were on our own. Not a big deal in the grander scheme of reasons I disappointed my mother, but given my raw nerves and general anxiety about being in Mom’s cross hairs, I wasn’t sure I could take it. Before I exploded with anger, D chimed in.
“We had a busy day at work,” D said apologetically. “Jane solved one of our biggest cases today.”
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I risked a glance at my mother. She was clearly surprised by D’s testimonial about my general competence. My chest went warm and tight, and my cheeks heated. I couldn’t help it. My demon had bragged on me. He winked and gave me one of those lopsided, dimpling grins that melted my heart and made my lady parts tingle.
Mom kept staring in apparent disbelief. Wonderful. She’d never taken my work seriously. Okay, she didn’t know what I really did for a living, but that wasn’t the point. She still thought of me as incompetent or as the troublemaker in the family, the jinx.
As if sensing my distress, D put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.
“Yeah, tough day, but I promise I’ll start brown-bagging it. Can’t go wrong with PB and J. So what’s for dinner?” I asked a little too brightly. We needed to get the ball rolling on this awkward dinner thing. I wasn’t sure how much of Momzilla I could take.
“I made honey lemon chicken with pasta.”
I gasped. It was my favorite. She did that. She always did that. She’d take a meat cleaver to my heart and then turn around and do something sweet and thoughtful to completely eviscerate me. Now I felt guilty for skipping family dinners for the past six months. I stared down at my well-worn cowgirl boots, at a loss for what to say.
Mom’s uncharacteristic, not to mention unladylike, snort brought me back to attention. I almost got whiplash from jerking my head up, which sucked since my neck still ached from Barbatos’s choke hold. I almost jerked again when my gaze landed on my mother’s face.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Don’t act so surprised, Jane. Give me a little credit. I know it’s your favorite.”
Before I could come up with a funny or snarky comeback, Mom floored me again. “Given how much money you’ve been sneaking into my bank account, I should’ve made you lobster thermidor.”
I froze. How had she found out? I’d had the twins make it look like some kind of compensation from the insurance company over a car crash we’d had when I was little. Had Megan ratted me out?
D’s steady hand on my shoulder was the only thing that kept me from bolting out the door. Crap. I didn’t know how I was going to lie my way out of this one. Brad, as usual, picked exactly the wrong time to saunter into the living room with two beers and bated breath. He loved our family drama, probably because it never involved him or Megan. Plus, I had a sneaking suspicion he was jealous of my cash stash. Not that he wasn’t doing very well himself, but ever since I’d said no thanks to his investment advice, stock tips, and offers to manage my portfolio, he’d been perplexed and a little angry that I was doing fairly well financially.
The last time I’d attended a famdamily dinner, he’d all but accused me of illegal activity. He leaned against the wall, smirk plastered across his frat-boy handsome face as he looked on. Jackass.
I considered lying. It was my standard MO when it came to Mom, but it was as much for her protection as mine. I couldn’t tell her what I did, what I was—or rather, what I had been. Technically, I wasn’t demon possessed anymore, but I was in too deep with their kind to get out now, especially with D.
Might as well try the truth, or at least some semblance of it. I held my hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. “Fine, you got me. I’ve been putting money in your account. You complained about how much I ate growing up. I figured I owed you.”
I’d been giving the extra food to D, but she didn’t know that.
Mom’s nostrils flared, and she opened her mouth but apparently thought better of rising to the challenge I’d issued with that last statement. But it was true. Yeah, we’d been poor, and yeah, she had no idea we had another mouth to feed, but she’d taken it out on me. The glares whenever she checked the pantry, the sighs, the silent tears when she thought Megan and I were sleeping.
She blamed me.
I blamed me, too. But the extra guilt trip had been a heavy burden for the kid I’d been.
Mom heaved a sigh. “Jane, you don’t owe me for feeding you. I’m your mother. It was my job.”
I should’ve dropped it, but again, being home brought out my inner five-year-old. And I was tired, and tense, and though I’d never admit it out loud, I was hurt. I’d never had a good relationship with my mom. I craved it, especially in the absence of my dad.
“Yeah, a job you resented every moment of every day.”
Mom flinched as if I’d slapped her across the face. Then she took a deep breath, visibly suppressing anger and outrage. She stood to her full height, accentuating my lack thereof, and narrowed her gaze. “Jane Aurelia McGee, that was uncalled for, unfair, and untrue.”
I tensed as if for battle, wh
ich was weird. I wasn’t in the field fighting demons for the lives and souls of unwitting humans. Still, this battle had been a long time coming.
“Jane.” D’s deep voice was gentle and held a note that sounded an awful lot like pity.
That did it. I jerked out of his hold and glared at my mother. “Uncalled for? Really? You made it crystal clear I was a burden. Megan was fine, but I know I was the bad kid you never wanted. You can stop pretending.”
Brad dropped his beer, D swore under his breath, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. Shit. Why had said that? This wasn’t like me. I wasn’t a petty, vengeful bitch.
Okay, I was, but only when it came to work and only when I couldn’t deflect with humor, sarcasm, or interpretive dance. Or when I couldn’t use my favorite strategy—avoidance. I never said stuff like that to my mom. It was way too confrontational. Crap.
“Forget it,” I said through gritted teeth and a forced smile that probably looked psychotic. “Bygones, right? Where’s Megan?”
“Here.”
I whirled around to face the bearer of the hoarse, broken voice. Megan’s eyes were wide and bright with unshed tears. She must’ve heard my tirade. She hated confrontation more than I did. I should’ve kept my big fat mouth shut. No need to make everyone miserable with my issues.
At least I’d kept them safe from my boss. They’d never know, but it didn’t matter. They were alive, their souls intact, and blissfully unaware of the dangers that came with being related to me. I should keep my distance and protect them from afar. It was better that way.
“You know, this was probably a bad idea. Long days at work make me crazy.” I used my best chipper tone. Maybe if I pretended none of that just happened, we could go back to the way things had always been.
I grabbed D’s hand and tried to tug him so we could execute a fast getaway. “Let’s try this again in a few weeks, okay? I’ll even wear some nice slacks and that sweater you bought me last Christmas.”
Mom was apparently less than impressed with my gesture. In fact, she looked…hurt. Damn my big mouth. She shook her head and said, “You’re just like your father, Jane. Always running away. Even when you were small, you never wanted me too close.”
Those words cut me to the core. I needed to get out of there before I said something else I’d regret later. “Come on, D. Let’s go.”
“No.”
We all turned to my sister. She stood in front of the door, hands on her hips, legs apart and braced as if ready to physically prevent me from leaving. Color me impressed. I’d never seen Megan this fierce, this determined, this—
Megan’s next words cut off my train of thought. “You don’t understand, Mom. She couldn’t help it. She’s been protecting us for years.”
Brad snorted. “From what? Drug dealers? Mercenaries?”
Megan glared at her hubby, which, to his credit, made him shrink back and mutter what sounded like an apology. Then, turning to our mother, she said, “Demons.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I froze. Oh God, this was my worst nightmare come to life. It was worse than my other recurring nightmare involving high school, no pants, and copious amounts of peanut butter.
Brad had dropped the other beer by now, and Mom looked back and forth between Megan and me as if we’d lost our minds. That was new. Not staring at me like that. I’d always been the crazy one, but not Megan.
“Oh, Meg,” I said, laughing a little too loud and yanking harder on D’s hand. He didn’t budge, apparently as shocked at my sister’s revelation as I was. Was I the only one with a clear head, master improvisational skills, and the ability to lie out of my ass as easily as breathing?
“She’s such a kidder.” By now, I was snort laughing, looking around at my family and hoping they would join in. “Earlier this week, I really had her going. I mean, seriously, she thought I might actually be a superhero. Can you believe it?”
I’d let go of D’s hand and had stumbled over to Megan in a fit of giggles. I slung an arm over her shoulder as tears streamed down my face. Damn, if Hannah had permanently vacated my premises, I could totally make it in Hollywood. I had mad acting skills.
Megan slipped out of my grasp and took me by the shoulders. “No, Jane. No more hiding. I know what you are and what you do, what you’ve always done.”
“Oh my God. You know, it was only one time, I swear. Okay, maybe three. They were cute, I’d had a few shots of tequila, and honestly, what else was I supposed to do with that much Nutella?”
I met her gaze and winked, my face contorted into what I hoped resembled a plea for mercy. How the hell had she found out about the demon thing? And how much did she really know? This was not happening. Not now. Not when I was close to freedom and, for the first time, normal.
“Stop.”
We all turned to face Mom. Her face had gone pale, and a fine tremor ran through her body. Dread pierced my gut like a thousand shards of broken glass. I’d seen my mother angry, of course, and frustrated, disappointed, sad, and scared, but I had never, ever seen her in the grip of sheer terror.
And that terror seemed to be directed at yours truly.
“What did he do to you?” Mom whispered. Then she looked away as she muttered, “I’ll kill that bastard.”
Wait, what? Someone did something to me? And my mom wanted to kill him? I was totally confused. Holy cow, I needed CliffsNotes.
Everyone started talking at once as I struggled to work out how my sister knew about the demon thing, understand my mom’s bizarre reaction, and figure out the quickest escape route. I was debating between sneaking out of the bathroom window versus heading for the back door when D’s booming voice commanded silence. Everyone stared at him in wonder, or maybe that was just me. He was so hot when he went all commanding.
Turning his dark gaze on my sister, he said, “How did you know?”
Oh, no, he did not just let the cat out of the bag. “D!”
As usual, they ignored me. Being the youngest really sucked sometimes. Megan jerked her head and said, “That guy who looks like the Terminator told me.” Then she turned to glare at me. “You know, the one you sent to follow us?”
I spotted Alexi in the background. For such a big man, he was doing a decent job hiding in the shadows. “Alexi, how could you?”
Alexi’s low growl rumbled. “I’m sorry, Jinx. They need to know. You are all still in danger.”
“I can’t believe you outed me to my sister. Dude, seriously—wait, what do you mean we’re still in danger?”
Alexi finally stepped into the light, and I gasped. He wasn’t fully wolfed out, but he didn’t look fully human. He was more like an oversize backup dancer for Cats gone horribly wrong. Wow, no wonder Megan believed him.
I shook my head and shifted back into fight mode. Family secrets and reckonings would have to wait. I apparently had more important things to deal with, and they probably centered on demons bent on rebellion and conquest. Why hadn’t dispatch called, and where was my boss?
Alexi bared his fangs. “The boss has your demon cornered, and the rest of the team is on their way. We have to go now.”
Megan had gone pale at the sight of Alexi, but she gave a quick nod when I glanced in her direction. I looked over at Brad, or rather, where Brad had been standing, but the poor man now lay in a crumpled heap on the ground. I felt sorry for him for about a nanosecond before turning my attention to D. His eyes glowed with red sparks, and his body had gone tense as a panther’s ready to leap on its prey.
Finally, I looked at my mother. She was surprisingly calm and collected, which was weird. The woman had just seen a half-shifted werewolf demon and my full-fledged demon boyfriend, who looked the part, and she’d been informed that her daughter was a demon hunter. Instead of being passed out on the floor with her son-in-law, however, she didn’t seem shocked or fear-stricken. If I had to guess, I’d say she was…resigned.
She walked toward me slowly and then surprised the hell out of me by taking both my hands
in hers. I must have flinched since she sighed and tightened her grip. “Janie,” she said. She hadn’t called me that since I was little. “Janie, go. I’ll save you a plate. We’ll talk later, about your father, about…everything.”
My father? What the hell did any of this have to do with my absentee parent?
“Jane.” This time, D spoke my name, his voice a low, rumbling growl. “Let’s go get your demon.”
Mom pulled me in for a quick and completely unexpected hug before giving me a gentle push toward D and the door. “Go.”
Still reeling from the evening’s revelations, not to mention the bazillion and one questions I had for and about my mother and father, I hopped into D’s muscle car. We violated at least twenty different traffic laws as he drove to HQ.
I practically leapt out of the car before D slammed it into park and took off running. I’d just made it inside and was debating elevator versus stairs when a pair of strong hands grabbed me around the waist. One moment I was in front of the elevator and the next I was staring at Barbatos’s empty desk outside the boss’s office.
“Holy shit!” I staggered out of D’s arms and spun around to face him. He’d teleported us. “I knew it. You’ve totally been holding out on me.”
D gave me a lopsided grin. “You’ve been holding out on me, too.” He pointed at my demon knife, which I’d unsheathed. It glowed blue—a brilliant, shining neon blue. Again with the blue, not to mention the purple, when I was supposed to be getting demon red—
I froze, realization dawning.
I pointed the knife toward the boss’s door and nearly went blind with the brilliant blue light. “D, it’s the celestials. They’re in there. What will they do with Hannah and the boss?”
Footsteps echoed in the stairwell like an elephant stomping. Alexi. He’d been right behind us and had managed to keep up on foot even after stopping to pee on a fire hydrant. Hey, a little rebellion was good for the guy. He burst through the door in full wolf demon form, followed by Mara and my roomies.
Catching Hell Page 25