The Naughty List

by L. A. Kelley

  Her heart stopped. “David said what?”

  “To keep them in the backyard. He said not to bother you.”

  Must. Kill. E.L.F. “What if they tell someone?” Rosalie sputtered.

  “Struck full power by a medusa is disorienting,” revealed Sadhri. “The condition is easily mistaken for an alcoholic bender or a drug overdose. Of course, any toxicology screens come back negative, but,” she got right up in Ms. Gilbert’s frozen face, “who will believe any story they tell?”

  “A static is not a pleasant existence,” remarked Carlos mildly, “frozen in place, bearing the elements, bugs crawling all over you. You want to yell for help, but can’t. You want to run away, but can’t. You want to scratch your ass, but can’t. You get the picture.” He prodded the statue with his toe. “Isn’t that right, chica?” If an unresponsive statue could give off the impression of pure, unadulterated terror, Ms. Gilbert certainly did.

  I should protest this, thought Rosalie fiercely. This isn’t procedure. This isn’t how it’s done. Now you sound like the Baal, countered a little voice in the back of her head.

  “What exactly did Ms. Gilbert steal?” she asked.

  “Gina Gilbert,” Sadhri reported in a condemning tone, “slipped a necklace from the jewelry department into her oversize purse, followed by three shirts from Juniors. She aided her male companion in the theft of a jacket by serving as a lookout. After which Gina Gilbert and her male companion went to the coffee shop and pocked a tip left for one of the waitresses. Once they were apprehended we found merchandise from two other stores in her purse with the price tags on and no receipts.”

  “David checked her name in The Book,” added Carlos. “She also steals money from her grandmother’s purse when she’s low on funds. Even though,” he glowered at the statue, “her abuela is on a fixed income.”

  Rosalie studied the girl. What was it about her? Why did Ms. Gilbert look so familiar? Then she noticed the tattoo. Clearly visible under the edge of a push-up bra peeked a butterfly tinted in shades of stony gray.

  It’s so wrong to feel this much satisfaction, but I do.

  Rosalie whispered brightly into the statue’s ear, “I’ll bet you wish now you never returned that damn blender.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  David dashed away into Rosalie’s apartment. She sat waiting for him with arms folded. “You are the trailer park,” she growled. “I am the tornado.”

  “Whatever I did,” he gulped. “I’m sorry.”

  Rosalie backed him into the corner. into tursothree shirNeed I remind you, today is the twenty-second of December. Not the sanest time for retail. Also, I have an enthusiastic cupid dogging me. I didn’t finish the reading on the Pan-Hellenic Interregnum and I’ll flunk her quiz.” She jabbed at his chest. “I don’t need any additional stress in my life.” Rosalie proceeded to describe in colorful detail the discovery of her new security department’s containment policy.

  She glared razor-sharp daggers at him. “You knew all along Carlos zapped people. Don’t deny it. You said you kept tabs on all of them in The Book and Carlos also told me he had you look up names.”

  Pinned against the wall, David shuffled uneasily. “Well, you see, The Book generally doesn’t approve of unauthorized blasts from a medusa, but since Carlos used his powers against criminals…I warned you they were enthusiastic,” he offered weakly.

  “Don’t you think the fact that Billy and the others kidnapped a bunch of lowlifes and stacked them in his backyard is something you should have mentioned?”

  “I-I was gonna…soon,” he floundered. “You totally accepted all the other Integral stuff.”

  “Just because I’m okay with it,” she said, her voice growing louder with each word, “doesn’t mean you can dump more on me without my permission. You kept things from me that I should have known. I had a boyfriend who used to do the same thing. I’m never going there again.”

  Her words hit home. David looked stricken. “I didn’t think… You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m under all this pressure.”

  Rosalie stamped her foot. She had a full head of steam now. “Don’t give me that. So am I. My work is less momentous than chasing down demons, but the responsibilities are important to me. I take them seriously. I’m trying to juggle two worlds, David, and you’re not making it easy.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad and send them away. Then they’d be my problem again. The truth is I wanted one less thing to deal with.” His expression gave away his embarrassment at the admission.

  Rosalie was hurt. “You should have more faith in me.”

  “I know.” He put his arms around her. “I was wrong. I swear, I will never do it again.”

  “You were a jerk,” she mumbled in to his shoulder. “I’m staying mad at you a little longer.”

  “You should. I am a jerk. Complete and total. Just ask Dominic.”

  She looked up at him. “I’m serious, David. If our relationship is to work, you have to accept I won’t give up one world for the other.”

  “I don’t want you to,” he answered firmly. “I swear, I want us to live in both. I mean that. Anytime you think I don’t take your life seriously, kick me in the pants. Still angry?”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “A little less, but you’ll make it up to me.”

  “Anything.”

  “I promised Marty I’d clear out the storeroom by morning, so we move Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend tonight. Afterwards, you’ll come back here and help me cram for the test.”

  “No dinner?”

  She grabbed his hand. “Now.”

  They dashed-away to Central Receiving. Billy and Sonia waited inside the storeroom. They had already covered the human statues with tarps. The four of them loaded the statics into the back of a van and drove along the darkened streets. Every time the vehicle hit a bump, Rosalie flinche osaman statd.

  “Don’t worry,” David assured her after her fourth nervous glance in the back. “Nothing will snap off. They’re as solid as Mt. Everest.”

  “Yeah, Carlos is a pro. None of them will so much as a twitch,” Billy said.

  They had a little trouble unloading the van as Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend were tangled up together with a seatbelt. Rosalie held her breath as David and Billy gave a few good yanks before they came free. Despite Billy’s reassuring words, Rosalie did a surreptitious survey of the interior of the van for stray body parts. Happily, both statues remained intact.

  Carlos waited for them in the backyard. Rosalie picked out a particularly mucky pile of mulch and they buried Ms. Gilbert and her boyfriend face down. Although nighttime, the medusa handed Rosalie a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “I’m about to free a guy here for a few days. The glasses will protect you against the mystic discharge. Even though I’m pulling the power back in, watching will give you a nasty headache.”

  Rosalie slipped on the shades and gasped. “I see everything.” They didn’t affect her vision at all rather displayed every detail of the surroundings in high def.

  David, Billy, and Sonia uncovered a young man in jeans and a hoodie. They lifted the statue to his feet and then backed away and averted their eyes. Rosalie watched in fascination as a misty glow formed around Carlos’s head. His braided hair fluttered about the medusa’s shoulders even though she felt no wind. The air filled with static energy, dancing across the skin on Rosalie’s arm, and cultivating shivery goose bumps. Without warning, an energy blast propelled from Carlos’s eyes, impacting the face of the young man. The stony texture of his skin morphed to a normal hue. Color flooded back into the clothing as material became soft and pliable. The once-still static gaped at the medusa in horror and staggered back on wobbly legs.

  Billy brushed past the others. He grabbed a handful of hoodie around the neck of the young man. With one arm he hoisted him into the air until dead even with the hellhound’s face. Billy inhaled. “Mason, I have your scent.” His voice drip
ped out with a raspy brittle edge. “I’ll find you anywhere. Stay on the Nice List or I will hunt you down and drag you to hell. I will be watching.” He opened his fist and dropped the man dismissively at his feet.

  Wild-eyed with terror, Mason froze in place. His mouth opened. He let out a high pitched sound somewhere between Graaak! and Eeep! He shot straight up, stumbled out of the yard, and vanished into the night.

  Billy dusted off his hands. “Anyone for dinner? I’m starved.”

  Despite Rosalie threats not to feed David until she finished studying, they were cajoled into staying. “Aunt Sadhri is cooking tonight,” Billy said. “She makes a dynamite curry.”

  He spoke the truth. Rosalie lavished praise which Sadhri acknowledged with a pleased smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. I haven’t had the opportunity to cook for more than one for a while. Of course,” her eyes glistened, “feeding hellhounds is no challenge. All you need to decide is canned or dry.”

  Billy rolled his eyes. “Very funny. Like we’ve never heard that joke before.”

  Poof.

  Everyone jumped back from the table as Ms. Jankowski appeared. “There you are, Rosalie,” she scolded. “You’re late for your lesson.”

  “Damn it, cupid,” snapped Sadhri as she mopped up water from a spilled glass. “Are you trying to give us heart attacks? You could call first.”

  “I don’t have your number,” she sniffed.

  Rosalie stood up. “I’m sorry, Natalie, I forgot the time.”

  “That’s all right, dear, although,” she glanced around the table with a look of concern. “You should have notified me. Any social engagement involving you and the E.L.F. requires a chaperone.”

  Sadhri stared icily. “Does it? Well then, I’m the chaperone.”

  Natalie raised an eyebrow. “You? You’re joking.”

  “Trust me,” cracked Billy. “Aunt Sadhri has no sense of humor.”

  David half rose. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Absolutely not,” the cupid admonished. “Curfew is long past. However,” she brightened, “you can kiss her goodnight.”

  Billy leaned back in his chair and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Go ahead, David. Don’t mind us. Lay a big fat juicy one on her.” The others looked on with amused interest, calling out additional suggestions.

  He scowled at them. Rosalie decided the E.L.F. had suffered enough. With a sly look, she laid a big fat juicy one on him instead. The others applauded. Sadhri let out a rousing battle cry. Rosalie waved cheerfully goodbye and then disappeared with Natalie.

  ****

  “He is such a dear, sweet, E.L.F. isn’t he?” Ramesh twittered with an exaggerated sigh. “Look at the way he let Rosalie completely overwhelm him. I thought for sure he’d faint, but he didn’t.”

  “I always thought sweetness was one of his best qualities,” agreed Billy with a straight face. “He’s so…so… manly sweet.”

  David banged his head on the table. “Have I mentioned how much I hate cupids?”

  “Too many times to count.” Billy punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. Rosalie’s handling it. Better than you, I might add.”

  David’s phone rang. He glanced at the display and groaned. “Perfect. The Baal needs to see me ASAP at the repository.”

  He heard Billy yell just before the dash-away took hold. “Give him my love, you dear, sweet wonderful E.L.F!”

  David spied Dominic pacing outside the repository. “I want to thank you ONCE AGAIN,” the E.L.F. growled, “for sic-ing a cupid on me and Rosalie.”

  The Baal’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth as if to snap back.

  David clenched his fists. The demon was a head taller and thirty pounds heavier, but he so wanted an excuse right now to punch him in the nose.

  Without warning, the demon backed down. “I didn’t intend… I thought…” The words came with obvious difficulty. “I didn’t expect Stephen to assign a cupid. I assumed your parents would be delegated as monitors. Cupids,” the Baal added stiffly, “are a pain in the ass.”

  David raised an eyebrow. “No lie. Stephen doesn’t think so, though. His sister married one.”

  “I forgot. However, your human—”

  “Rosalie.”

  “Rosalie appears to be handling the situation well. I know, monitoring is difficult for her, but the cupid’s reports are very positive. She’s earned quite a bit of respect.” David stared at him. His words almost sounded like an apology.

  Dominic gritted his teeth and spit out. “Ms. Jankowski prints her updates on pink scented paper. All the ‘y’s are decorated with little curlicues on the ends and the a pa anic gri’s’ are dotted with hearts. They look ridiculous. Where did she even find that font?”

  “I hear you man.” David felt an unexpected rush of sympathy. “They have no clue how annoying they are.”

  “Their denseness is unbelievable. How do they not know?”

  The conversation lulled in an awkward pause. “So…you called me…?”

  “Yes.” Their shared moment dissolved. Dominic cleared his throat and straightened up. “I created a partial way through Pearce’s shields, but I need The Book.”

  David led the way into his family vault. Dominic reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two small vials of a powdery substance. The material swirled inside each one emitting radiant sparks. The grains plinked against the sides of the containers as if frantically hunting for a way out. He handed them to David.

  The E.L.F. held one of the vials up to the light, examining the contents. Even through the glass the charge of active magic prickled against his fingertips. “What is it?”

  “A counterspell. Anthony used a demon-based shield to hide his activities, but then he created modifications to cloak a medusa, a hellhound, and a kulkucan; three separate Integrals, three different variations. Fortunately for us, inter-Integral alterations also make a spell unstable. Pearce is a damn good adept,” he admitted reluctantly, “but even a preeminent spellcaster needs several months to lock in the magic. He didn’t have the time, so he cut corners. When you do that, a weak point is always left leaving the spell vulnerable to attack. I deduced the process examining Salazar’s chain. The powder will be effective against either Kaplan or Darby.”

  “What about Pearce?”

  “Unfortunately, the original spell is tougher. I’m still working on it.” He motioned toward the Book. “Sprinkle their pages.”

  David called up Kaplan’s page first. As before, no updates appeared, just a giddying swirl of barely visible letters. He flicked off the stopper from one of the vials and dribbled the contents over the top. The glittery sand made contact, spread out, and effused the paper with a soft glow. The Book stirred under David’s fingertips as if shaking off a too-long sleep. He stifled a shout as new words immediately appeared.

  Dominic peered over his shoulder. “Stole a car…abetted in the robbery of a pharmacy south of Decatur on the night Salazar was captured…”

  David frowned. “Nothing since? I hoped—”

  “The magic takes time for the counterspell to sink in,” the Baal assured him. “The Book will read the oldest offenses first. Eventually, all traces of Pearce’s shield will disappear and the record will be up to date.”

  “How long?”

  “Hard to say…a few days—maybe sooner.”

  David sprinkled Darby’s page. “The same pharmacy robbery—at least we know they stuck together.” He looked up eagerly. “Can the hellhounds track them?”

  “They may begin to get a trace scent, but they won’t key in completely until the pages are scrubbed completely clean.”

  David’s eyes drifted over the open volume deep in thought. Why did the location of the robbery bother him so much?

  “What is it?” asked Dominic.

  “South,” he murmured. “They were headed south. The entrance to the interstate is nearby.”

  “Not necessarily. Georgia was only the last update. They could be anyw
here by now.” re th. The Unconsciously, Dominic clenched his fist.” Notify me as soon as you get something concrete on their location. I’ll activate all the hellhound packs. Pearce won’t escape this time.”

  The look of fierce intensity surprised the E.L.F. “He really pissed you off, didn’t he?”

  The Baal stared glumly at the wall. “He was under my command. He betrayed me. What do you think?”

  David shrugged. “I think your ego is bruised. Face it, Dominic, you gave him the idea. Frankly, the thought crossed my mind and others, the only reason you’re so angry at Pearce is because you didn’t think of the plan first.”

  The Baal said nothing.

  His attitude ticked David off. How could The Book believe Dominic was making amends when he didn’t show a shred of remorse? “You know what else I think? Your uncle would approve of Anthony. Hell, he’d probably pin a medal on his chest. A few false accusations, a couple of human assaults, and the death of a lesser demon are a small price to pay in return for the greater good of the clan.” Dominic loomed over the E.L.F. For an instant it looked as if the bigger stronger Integral would throw the first punch. David braced himself.

  The storm left the Baal’s eyes. “Whatever you may think of me, I never wanted this. Liang’s murder is on my shoulders now.” He strode off, but his steps faltered at the vault door. He glanced back. “I’m not my uncle.”

  David waited until the demon exited the repository. “Dominic Schiller,” he commanded The Book. As if a mysterious breeze wafted through the vault, the pages rippled to a stop. The Nice List heading appeared although the green words were heavily tinted with red. The indecision amused him. “You can’t quite make up your

  mind about Dominic, either,” he muttered.

  The E.L.F. shut The Book. Even through the ornate cover, he sensed the prickle of the counterspell taking effect. Soon Kaplan and Darby’s location would be secret no longer. No way in hell they were perfect little angels all this time. Something they did since Decatur would trip them up. The Book would know, and then the hellhounds would lock onto the scent again.