Devil May Care

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Devil May Care Page 9

by Patricia Eimer


  “Discretion is something they can’t grasp, is it?” I threw the car into park and looked at my older sister, sighing.

  “Nope.” Hope unhooked her seatbelt and popped her door open. She slid out of the car and hurried off toward our parents before I had the engine shut off. She smacked my father across the back of the head and grabbed him by the earlobe, pulling his face close to hers for a brief conference.

  Matt pulled his black sedan into the other side of the parking lot and came over, clearly frazzled, with Brenda trailing after. I narrowed my eyes at Brenda, making them flash red. Let her be afraid. Up until now I’d been nice. But I’d hit the limits of my patience with her. She was from Bassano’s little community, that meant she was his problem now.

  I met Matt at the front of my dad’s car and stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “How did it go?”

  “Can your parents adopt me?” he whispered back. “Please? She spent the entire ride here nagging about how I need to leave you and marry her. She even suggested we move back to Biloxi so we could be closer to our mothers. To make it even worse, she’s already started thinking about decorating. She wants to do our living room in shades of pink and mint green. With flowers.”

  “I’m sure it will be a lovely home.” I struggled to keep the black power that wanted to erupt along my arms in check and did my best to make a joke out of it. Brenda was delusional and I wasn’t going to let her see that she was getting to me. Even though she was making me seriously homicidal. “I bet she can even find you a recliner and the cat to snuggle with while she gets your pipe and slippers each night.”

  “Not funny.” My do-gooder, angelic half frowned at me. “I’m traumatized here and you’re making jokes.”

  “Matt.” My father opened his arms wide and wrapped them around both of us in one large bear hug. “It’s good to see you, son. How’s my favorite defender of the little guy doing?”

  “Couldn’t be better.” My boyfriend wheezed, the air knocked out of him by my father’s punishing grip. Caught between two men who were both over six feet tall, my toes scraped the ground and my ankles were going numb. “But your daughter is starting to turn purple.”

  “Crap, sorry.” Dad dropped both of us and ran one tanned, well-muscled hand through his black hair, his emerald green eyes twinkling. “I keep forgetting my own strength. This form is very deceptive.”

  “Yeah,” I croaked, leaning over to catch my breath. “Sure it is. Go introduce yourself to my super special houseguest Brenda. Hug her good and tight for me.”

  “Right,” Dad said, patting me on the back before turning to Brenda. I felt Matt’s large hand on one shoulder and my mother’s smaller one on my other shoulder, and both of them helped me to stand. Mom turned my face toward hers and pushed it first to one side and then to the other, checking my makeup.

  “You look gorgeous,” she assured me. Her blond corkscrew curls were tousled and her cherry red lipstick was smeared. I spotted a bright red blotch on her neck and tried not to roll my eyes. I couldn’t believe my father had given my mother a hickey. Wait a second. I ran my finger along the mark and it smeared. Lipstick transfer. Ugh. That was almost as gross.

  “You’re dressed a bit more conservative than normal, but it’s still lovely. Your brother and Lisa said they’ll be here but they’re running a bit late. They’ve got some wedding errands to do. So don’t worry, all of us are here for you today.” She smoothed her hands over her own flowing black peasant skirt and the gold bangles on her wrist tinkled. Between the bracelets, the poufy white blouse, and with the flaming red scarf she had wrapped around her waist, she looked like a cross between a hippie and one of those carnival fortunetellers. She pulled me into a hug and pressed her cheek against mine.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I whispered. Sure, Mom was always sort of hands-on with her whole pseudo-Wicca stuff, but she was rarely supportive.

  “I feel fine,” she said. “You relax and enjoy lunch. Hope texted your father and I about that nasty little angel who’s infested your apartment with all of her positive energy. If she tries anything today your father said I could trap her inside of a pentagram of dark crystals and use her power as an additional boost to my spell work. I might even relocate her into Purgatory so I can try some of the more complicated spells I’ve been working on.”

  “You’re going to hex someone into Purgatory?” I pulled away to look at my mother. “I thought you didn’t believe in all of that?”

  “Well a girl is allowed to change her mind.” Mom sniffed. “And only a stupid woman doesn’t learn from her mistakes when they’re shoved right in front of her nose. It’s rather hard to deny the existence of Heaven and Hell when your new vacation home is sitting on a lake of fire, with naked, sunbathing imps lounging nearby.”

  “You have a point there.” I glanced at Matt, giving him a brief smile. Apparently Mom had decided to be a bit more open minded to the whole the father of your children is the devil thing. We’d probably never get her to give up the whole Wicca-Earth Mother bit, but if she quit considering me an abomination against nature, I’d go with it. Hell, I’d even chant if that made her happy.

  A ball of blue-black, flaming phase portal flared to life in a shadowed corner of the parking lot, and a leggy redhead in a black leather miniskirt and turquoise blouse appeared. To make it worse, her arms were wrapped around an angel, well into middle age. The angel sported a sagging belly and a light brown mullet coupled with a receding hairline, and he had his hands on her too-perky-to-be-natural ass.

  My shoulders slumped and I tried not to groan. Even if I hadn’t seen a picture of him on Matt’s computer I would have known the guy with a handful of demon ass was Matt’s dad, Bassano. All I could do was wonder how in the names of Chaos and Evil had someone that icky fathered the so-hot-he-made-my-bed-smoke angel standing next to me?

  “Aw man.” I got a better look at the demoness and realized it was my dread demon in drag.

  “What? Who?” Mom turned to stare at the vixen sauntering toward us. “Mal? Sweet Goddess of All Things, you look amazing. I mean, you seriously have the ass of an eighteen-year-old. A really hot eighteen-year-old. Not that I’d look or anything but, I just, well wow.”

  “Your Majesties.” Mal bowed, flourishing her hands dramatically in front of her and ignoring my mother’s rather clumsy compliment. “You both look lovely. Engagement agrees with you splendidly, my future queen. And may I say I’m anxiously awaiting my role as head of security for your impending nuptials? It will be the second greatest honor of my service, only after being trusted with the care of your darling child.”

  “Bassano.” Dad stuck his hand out, ignoring Mal’s obvious ass kissing techniques. “It’s wonderful of you to join us.”

  “I wouldn’t have dreamed of missing it.” The angel shook Dad’s hand without flinching but his eyes stayed focused on Mal and his now pretty much infamous backside. “I’d heard my son had aligned himself to your daughter. I wasn’t sure which one it was, though.”

  Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders, hauling me forward and against his side. “Bassano, this is my youngest child, Faith. Faith, this is Bassano, a member of your uncle’s cherubic choir.”

  “Enchanted.” Bassano turned his eyes back to me and Dad before he leaned forward to kiss my hand, sniffing the inside of my wrist as he brushed his lips across my knuckles.

  “Dad.” Matt snatched my hand away and stepped in front of me, shielding me from his father’s gaze. “Please quit trying to hump my girlfriend’s leg. We have a surprise guest joining us. I’m sure you remember Brenda?”

  Bassano’s attention turned to Brenda, and gave the nephilim a cold stare. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?”

  “I-I-I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered and took two steps backward, her eyes fixed on the ground, while her shoulders hunched forward protectively. “Aren’t you happy to see one of your followers?”

  The waves of fear rolled off of her like caramel corn left ou
t too long after Halloween. Something wasn’t right, and suddenly Bassano’s meeting with Dad seemed a lot more ominous than a quick lunch and a chat about how to behave now that their kids were dating.

  “I’m sure you know exactly what I mean since you’re so close to the immortal hag I’ve unfortunately aligned myself with for all eternity. But you, obviously, know what I’ve come here to warn Louis and his family about. Don’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She cowered even more. She was almost in a standing version of the fetal position, trembling in fear, and the smell of stale candy was so thick that everyone was clearing their throats. Even Mom shifted uncomfortably, and she normally didn’t notice those sorts of subtle emotional shifts since she was still mortal. “I came to talk to you today about finding a place for myself outside of the compound.”

  “Liar.” Bassano glared at her. “We both know better.”

  Hope stepped in front of Brenda, sheltering her from Bassano’s wrath. “Then why don’t we go inside and you can explain it to the rest of us? Right now your little intimidation scene is keeping me from a cold beer and, if I have to put up with angels, beer is going to be necessary. ”

  What the Hell? I knew she couldn’t do evil but that didn’t mean she had to go all momma bear protecting her cub where Brenda was concerned, either. Last I checked my sister didn’t even like Brenda.

  “What are you up to?” I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the restaurant, letting the others trail behind us. “Are you trying to cause trouble?”

  She pointed to herself. “Can’t do evil, remember?”

  “Okay, so what gives?”

  “Nothing makes me hungrier than a bully.” She opened the restaurant’s outer door and stepped inside the cool interior of the former vestibule. “And if I can’t torture him for days and eat his soul to teach him how it feels to get picked on by someone stronger than you, then it doesn’t seem fair to let him get away with it, either.”

  She nudged my shoulder with hers and pushed open the inner doors, grimacing at the carving of the Crucifixion above it. My father had stepped through the doorway sideways, avoiding the touch of any of the religious carvings, keeping his eyes fixed forward.

  A jolt of hellfire raced along my fingertips and I took a deep breath, trying to control my instincts. The brewery was a decommissioned church, without an altar or any of the blessings to protect the grounds from demonkind, but the memories of both still tingled around us. The collective faith of the people who’d built the building acted like a catalyst in the air, forcibly preventing our entrance. Heat radiated from the carvings and I inched away from them, knowing that if my skin even brushed across one of them I would be severely burned.

  “Do they bother you?” Brenda asked, a sharp edge to her voice.

  “Does what bother me?” I stepped through the door sideways, my back almost resting against the far doorjamb.

  “The carvings made depicting the glory of our Faith?” Brenda straightened her shoulders and I could see her mentally rebuilding herself after the dressing down she’d taken from Bassano. As much as she annoyed me, I had to give the nephilim in front of me props—she was a lot tougher than she looked.

  “I’m not real fond of the Crucifixion, but it’s not like you can blame me. Who wants to look at pictures of their only cousin being tortured?” I tried to sound flippant but I could hear the tension in my voice. If this place didn’t have the best pierogies and beer in town I wouldn’t set foot inside. But when it came right down to it, my stomach always prevailed over my common sense. Not that I’d tell her that.

  “It’s a sign of the glory and the power of the Heavenly Order. It is a marker to show us that we are on the right path to destroying your kind and bringing a new age of wonder and righteousness to Man, ruling them with the authority of the right.” Brenda glanced back to make sure that Bassano wasn’t paying attention to us and then let her eyes glow, doing her best to taunt me. Which would have been sort of pathetic if she didn’t already have me completely on edge.

  Hope sucked in a breath behind me, and my skin started to crackle. I tended to leave people to their beliefs and I never—ever—got into a religious debate because, come on, the ways of the Celestial world aren’t exactly a mystery to me. But the Crucifixion was something we were all a little sensitive about. Especially J. He didn’t talk about it and we didn’t ask. No one mentions the fact that he disappears on Ash Wednesday and shows up looking worse for wear on the Monday after Easter. If anyone’s got the right to some mental health time he might be top of the list.

  It was also the one sore spot in our family when it came to the holidays. To be fair, the Alpha hadn’t ever intended for J to spend time in this plane. Before J became fascinated with mortals, we didn’t mix. Well, they didn’t mix. I hadn’t even been alive yet. And I wouldn’t have ever been a thought in anyone’s lust-fueled brain if the no mixing policy had stayed in effect. That’s not the point, though. The point is, J got intrigued, convinced Tolliver to get involved, and the two of them came to Earth, got into a bit of trouble, and that’s where the family fight started. Because the Alpha is always hands-off, with our love lives and everything else. Including living symbols of mortal faith on a hilltop near Golgotha.

  I glowered at Brenda and narrowed my eyes. “You think that carving is a depiction of a good thing? Something that should be celebrated? How about we get your brother Tony here and let you guys have a real live, breathing, screaming symbol to follow for a while instead? You’ll only have about three days to get your rebellion going, but who knows? He could hold out longer. What do you say? Want to turn your big brother into a living symbol of your faith?”

  Her face went white and her eyes widened as she stepped away from me. “I think…”

  “Go away,” Hope snapped, her sympathy for the other woman gone in an instant. Instead of waiting for Brenda to answer her, she stepped around me, slamming her shoulder against Brenda’s so hard the other woman stumbled across the vestibule. She stalked up to where Matt was talking to the host and tapped him on the shoulder. “Have you gotten us a table or not? Some of us have places to be after this.”

  “They’re getting a couple of the bigger tables put together now.” Matt looked at me and raised his eyebrows. Apparently the sensitive-caring-woman’s rights crusader was gone and my bitchy big sister was back. I’d have sighed in relief, but even though she couldn’t do evil she still scared the imps out of me.

  “I’ve got them set up,” a young man in black said, his voice cracking as Hope turned her best satanic glare on him. He grabbed a stack of menus and tried to smile at us; his lips were wavering at the edges, and I could see that his jaw was trembling as he tried not to cry at the sight of the pissed off demoness in front of him. “If you’d all like to follow me I can seat you now.”

  “Wonderful.” Matt came back to stand beside me, and wrapped his arm around my waist. He pulled me to the front of the group and we followed the host down what had once been the main aisle, toward the decommissioned altar, and let him lead us to a large, heavily carved cherry wood table as the smell of incense and food wafted around us.

  My father took a spot at the head of the table and Bassano at the foot. Dad motioned for me to sit on his right and my mother took the spot on his left. Matt sat beside me and Hope slid into the chair next to him, shooting Brenda a triumphant grin when she beat the other woman to the spot. Instead of rising to the bait, Brenda walked to the other side of the table and sat beside my mother, across the table from Matt.

  “Can I get you anything? Some beers to start with?” The scrawny host tugged at on the blond hair curling behind his ear and shifted back and forth on his feet like he’d rather be anywhere but here, dealing with us. Not that I blamed him.

  “We’ll need six Pious Monk beers, pint-sized if you don’t mind, and a glass of water.” Dad smiled at Matt. “My daughter’s boyfriend doesn’t like to drink at lunch.”

  “Actually�
��” Matt cleared his throat, and the waiter stopped. “I think today might be an exception to the rule. If I could have a beer, too, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Right,” the young man said. “Seven beers. I’ll be right back with them and your waitress should be here soon if you have any questions with the menu.”

  “I would prefer water,” Brenda announced. “I don’t believe in drinking demonic spirits.”

  “Neither do I.” My father laughed, obviously thinking she was making a joke. “It makes it hard for them to work later.”

  Bassano rolled his eyes at Brenda. “Loosen up and have a beer already. Have two, in fact. Who knows, maybe we can get you buzzed enough to remove the stick my immortal beloved implanted in your ass. Just think how much better you’ll feel afterwards.”

  “Since you brought your darling consort up…” Dad coughed. “You mentioned during our phone call that there was something that you needed to discuss with me?”

  “Oh right.” Bassano smoothed back his mullet and winked at me before he reached over to wrap an arm around Mal’s shoulders, his hand dropping down to give her breast a quick grope. I felt my stomach lurch and tried not to shudder. Was it possible that Matt was adopted? “I was hoping to have a few more beers before we had this discussion—ease into it if I could, but that’s not possible, is it?”

  “I doubt it.” Dad shook his head in annoyance, acting like he was dealing more with a naughty puppy who kept piddling on the rug rather than an ancient member of the Celestial Choir. “So? What did you do now?”

  “I haven’t done anything.” Bassano held his hands up and gave Dad what I thought was supposed to be one of those hapless I’m-a-dumb-guy-what-can-you-do? looks, but instead it just looked like he had gas.

  “Have you lost control of a civilization again? What’s the problem?” Dad sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Problem?” Bassano gave a forced laugh. “No problem. Unless you consider that I know for a fact Matt’s mother Valerie has been in contact with a certain young lady sitting at our table.”

 

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