Demons, demons everywhere.
The only bright spot was that Jasmine hadn’t been around to torture me with training. She was off doing whatever ancient, crabby demons did in their downtime. But, hello? Demon queen after me. You’d think my trainer would be concerned enough to stick around. But whatever.
I had Devlin calling me all the damn time, and I was getting tired of hanging up on him. (Points for him on persistence, though.) Logan had stopped by once or twice, but every time he looked at Brady his head exploded, so he never stayed long.
Thea and Brady were practicing cheerleader routines every afternoon in the backyard, and I had the stupid jingle stuck in my head.
How funky is your chicken? How loose is your goose?
What does that have to do with football?
Anyway, Thea’s as physical as I am, which is not saying much, so she was doing a lot of complaining. But she wasn’t quitting. Apparently Ryan Butler was plenty motivating.
Me, I was just trying to keep my head down. I was busy with the denial thing, the reward for my tortured, mutilated body was up to twenty-five thousand and I still had to deal with Carmen and her cousins.
“My cousin Teresa is willing to do the Chambers house now that the ghost is gone.” Carmen’s voice sounded clipped and businesslike over the phone.
“Good. Mrs. Chambers makes me nuts.” Ella Chambers is about a hundred and ten, and when you’re there cleaning her house she follows you with a white glove and a Q-tip. She checks every crevice, every nook, and God help you if she finds a speck of dust. Fortunately she had us in to clean only once a month. And she was so old she’d probably die soon.
You’re wondering why I didn’t even mention the whole ghost thing that Carmen was talking about. Well, turns out the demon spray I’m perpetually squirting people with is not only great for identifying demons and cleaning windows so well they shine like diamonds, it also cleans ghosts out of haunted houses. Apparently ghosts are no fonder of the scent of oregano than demons are. Who knew?
Amazing that I’d gone my whole life not knowing about any of this otherworld stuff. And now my whole life revolves around it.
Maybe amazing’s not the right word, here.
Maybe screwed is.
While Carmen was talking, scheduling my working life, I walked around the kitchen nibbling on a cinnamon-and-brown-sugar Pop Tart and dodging Sugar every other step. They’re my dog’s favorite, too.
“Olympia says she will not use the spray anymore because she is half-demon and it will give her demon cancer.”
“What?” I stopped at the window overlooking the backyard and stared blindly at Brady and Thea, working on their cheerleader routine. Brady could really kick high. “Demon cancer?”
“This is what she says.”
Ouch. Watching Thea kick was painful. “Is that even possible? Is there such a thing?”
“Pfft.”
This was Carmen’s favorite expression. I have no idea what it actually means, but she uses it all the time.
“So what do we do about Olympia?”
“I will tell her that if she does not use the spray, you will fire her.”
“God, I’m a beast.” I rolled my eyes, then realized Carmen couldn’t see me, so what was the point? Besides, we both knew I didn’t hire or fire anyone in my own business. Carmen did that. Technically she worked for me. The reality was, Carmen was in charge and occasionally let me think I was. The situation worked for both of us.
I used to have trouble keeping workers. I mean, come on, cleaning houses can be disgusting. But since Carmen started hiring her cousins, no more employee troubles. They’re all too afraid of Carmen to quit. Still, maybe I should look into liability insurance against demon cancer. Oh, God.
“Hmm. Be fired or get demon cancer. Wonder which one she’ll pick?”
“There is no demon cancer,” Carmen pronounced. “Olympia only wants more money, which she cannot have. I’ve already told her that you will not give her a raise.”
“Well,” I said, nodding and wincing a little as I watched Thea try to do a split. “I am a tough boss.”
“Yes. So Olympia will work or I will send her back to her mother in Mexico.” Carmen huffed a little in disgust. “Trust me when I say that she will choose working for you over such a possibility.”
How this tiny person got to be in charge of everybody was beyond me. But she’d survived a bad marriage and three teenage sons, and now had a ten-year-old boy who made the older ones look like saints, so I figured God had made her tough just for self-defense.
Then He sent her to me to keep life interesting.
“After all, you know that many hands make light work,” Carmen intoned, and I groaned and thunked my forehead into a kitchen cabinet.
Sugar whimpered in sympathy, but I think mainly to remind me she was still there and still hungry.
I sighed a little and said, “But if Olympia’s worried about the spray…”
“She will take one for the team,” Carmen muttered.
The clichés were coming fast and furious now. But I was feeling bad for Olympia. I didn’t know if there was such a thing as demon cancer. After all, the demons I squirted with the spray either got dusted by yours truly or they ran for the hills and I never saw ’em again.
If oregano gave ’em demon cancer, what would be their equivalent of chemo? Basil?
“If Olympia doesn’t want to use the spray anymore, then don’t make her,” I said, using my firm voice that occasionally got a response from Thea. “Send her out with one of your nondemon cousins and—”
“Most of the mountains we have in life are ones we build ourselves,” Carmen said, sounding sort of like a short, Mexican Buddha. Clearly my firm voice had no effect at all on her. Of course, I’d known that before I tried it. “Olympia will work and she will stop complaining.”
I took another bite of my Pop Tart. “So why did you tell me about this at all?”
“Because it is your business, Cassidy. I only work for you, so I must bring you the problems.”
“And the solutions.”
“What does not kill Olympia will make her stronger.”
“Okay, then. Thanks for calling.”
“I will see you tomorrow at the clinic?” Carmen asked.
“Oh, you need me, do you?” I grinned, set the Pop Tart down on the kitchen table and reached for the coffeepot. I poured a cup, turned around to pick up my Pop Tart and was in time to see Sugar swallow. Perfect.
“And bring more spray with you,” Carmen said. “I’m running low.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sarcasm was lost on Carmen. She hung up, and I stood there for a second, debating whether I should have another Pop Tart. Talking about work made me hungry.
“MOM!”
Thea’s scream lifted every hair on my body and seemed to slice right through my heart. I didn’t think. Didn’t bother to look out the window. I just threw the door open and started moving.
I grabbed a bottle of spray off the washing machine and hit the back door running.
Sugar ran outside with me, made it a few short steps, then skidded to a halt and slid three feet on her butt. I tripped over her hundred pounds of quivering terror, sprawled on the grass and looked over to see my watchdog cringing back and trying to hide under a dead chrysanthemum.
Let me just say, elephant behind a fire hydrant. But I totally understood why she was going for it.
Brady was standing in front of Thea like a big, brave Faery. Thea was peeking out from around him, eyes as big as Moon Pies, staring at the demon that had just jumped our fence. (Mental note: Do something about the fence situation. Clearly it wasn’t enough to dissuade every demon in the county from jumping into my yard whenever they felt like it. Maybe razor wire? Broken glass? Electricity?)
This demon was pretty damn impressive. It was yellow, for one, with pale green spots like overgrown freckles dotting its face. It didn’t have hair, but it did have white, rubbery dreadlock-look
ing spirals shooting back from its skull. It also had the requisite red eyes and a full set of teeth displayed through a gleaming pool of drool.
Ew.
“You,” it said, nodding at Brady. “I take you or the Duster. Then I’ll have the whelp.”
“Hey!” I pushed off the lawn and went charging into the fray. “Nobody’s taking anybody! Thea, get inside.”
But she wasn’t moving. I think she was just too stunned to do what I wanted her to do. I mean, she’d seen a few demons, but this one was a prize. It had to be seven feet tall, with long, scaly ape arms jutting out of its Dodger-blue T-shirt. Great. A baseball fan.
“Brady,” I told him, never taking my eyes off the big guy, “get Thea inside.”
“I won’t leave you,” he said, glaring at the demon with fire in his eyes. “It is my duty to help. To offer assistance—”
God knows how long he would have gone on in that vein if the demon hadn’t interrupted him. It jabbed a bony finger toward me and said, “You harbor the Faery. All bets are off now, Duster. I will kill you and take the girl.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t get any madder. Jasmine had explained all of this to me a month ago, when I was having some serious doubts about Thea’s safety. She had assured me that it was absolutely impossible for a demon to attack a Duster before she came into her powers. Which gave Thea, in theory, another sixteen years of relative safety.
Of course, this rule hadn’t prevented the judge from kidnapping Thea and planning to sell her off into demon sex slavery. Apparently it only kept the bastards from actually killing her themselves. They could hire it done—as I’d discovered the judge had done to my own mother.
Now this guy was standing in my yard, threatening my kid? Oh, I so didn’t think so.
I gave him a squirt right between the eyes and smiled when his howl roared out around us. “Listen up, buddy. You can just keep your scaly-ass tentacles away from my daughter. I know the rules. You can’t touch a duster until she’s come into her power. That means Thea’s off-limits to you.”
“It is a rule!” Brady shouted.
“Mom…”
“Get inside, Thea.” I still wasn’t looking at her, but I could feel her fear pulsing in thick waves that joined with mine.
The demon hissed and swiveled its head, sort of like a lizard does, in a slow, smooth move. It looked at me and ran its tongue across its fangs in anticipation, sort of like Sugar when she first sees a bowl of popcorn.
“Once you’re dead,” it said, “she’s mine. You can’t save her, and no one is here to stop me.”
See, the demons just can’t seem to get this one thing: Nobody threatens my baby. I thought I’d made that point to the whole demon community the month before, when I’d ripped out Judge Jenks’s heart. But apparently they were slow learners. I don’t care what you do to me—I’ll take the bumps and bruises and the occasional broken heart, but mess with my baby girl and you’re gonna be a pile of lint so fast the wind won’t be able to catch you.
I gave it another squirt just for the hell of it, then lunged. It was still screaming when I hit it square in the middle with my shoulder. Jasmine has tried to pound all these sophisticated moves into my head, but the only judo shit I’m ever going to know is what I picked up from watching the DVDs of Buffy and Angel.
But when it came right down to it, I just jumped in and started beating the crap out of that damn demon. I was beyond mad. I was so far over the edge I slammed everything I had into this guy and never took a breath.
The demon put up a hell of a fight, determined to get its hands on Brady and Thea. I took a shot to the side of my head that had bells clanging around inside. I bit my cheek and my mouth filled with blood, which was just so disgusting I fought even harder.
Sugar was barking like a maniac, Brady was running in a wild circle around us, trying to help and not sure when to jump in, and Thea was making like a cheerleader already.
“In the head, Mom!” she shouted. “Elbow. Right. That had to hurt. Okay, now his eyes. Fingers in the eyes!”
Even in the midst of the fighting I remember thinking, Ew. Where did she come up with that stuff?
The demon grabbed hold of me and lifted me high over its head, and for a moment, I thought I was going to fly. Then I grabbed hold of its dreadlocks—slick and slimy; I had to fist them around my hand to keep a grip on them—and when the demon flung me like a five-foot-seven Frisbee, it came along for the ride.
It landed hard, face down in the dirt, and I was on it in a second. It was big and it was mean and it was determined, so I didn’t have any time to waste. I sat on its butt, shoved my hand through its back and ripped its heart out, and the damn thing exploded right out from under me.
Adrenaline was still pumping inside me, but my breathing was coming along a little better. My heart rate was steadying out at about two hundred beats a minute, and if I didn’t stroke out I might just live out the rest of the day.
“Duster,” Brady said, giving me a bow.
“That was SO cool,” Thea said, smiling despite the fear still shining in her eyes.
WOOF. Sugar had a comment too. And then she peed on the pile of dust. I thought that about said it all.
“A Terrasco demon.” A very familiar, crabby voice spoke up, and I swiveled my head to watch Jasmine stroll into the backyard. The wind was brisk, kicking at the hem of her ugly gray dress, but her steel gray hair didn’t budge. Her sharp blue eyes were fixed on me, and her already grim mouth took a turn for the worse. “The queen sent one of her best killers after you.”
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?” I shouted, and scrambled to my feet. “This guy was going to kill Thea.”
She snorted.
“I would not have allowed that,” Brady said, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.
“Faeries,” Jasmine muttered.
“He was seriously huge,” Thea pointed out, and walked a wide berth around the puddle of pee-stained dust.
Jasmine looked at Thea. “He could not have harmed you. There are rules and—”
“Yeah, he looked like a real law-abiding citizen,” I said.
“Attacking Thea would have killed him.”
“Damn straight,” I said. “And it did.”
“No,” Jasmine countered, walking to Thea and dropping one bony, amazingly strong arm around her shoulders. “Whether or not your mother had succeeded at destroying the demon, he would not have been able to harm you.”
Thea didn’t look convinced, and, hey, neither was I. “Why not?”
“To harm a duster before her time is forbidden. The gods would have killed him.”
Hmm. Gods? “Small G or big G?”
“Small,” Jasmine said with one of her rare smiles. “There are otherworld gods who maintain the balance between the worlds. This demon would have been destroyed by them had he directly attacked Thea.”
Yeah, well, she could believe it if she wanted. But I figured that gods, small or big Gs, were too busy to handle the day-to-day crapola. And who was to say they’d be paying attention when Thea needed help? But then, protecting Thea was my job, and I trusted nobody else with it. Heck, I didn’t even trust Logan with it completely, and he was her father.
“Cassie?”
“Crap!” Speak of the devil.
“Out here,” Thea shouted before I could scream, Nobody’s home!
Logan came through the house, stopped on the back porch and looked at all of us. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“A demon attacked,” Brady said.
“Mom killed it,” Thea told him.
“A Terrasco,” Jasmine said, always a stickler for details.
“Oh, for…” Logan’s blue eyes narrowed on me. “You’ve got everybody playing the demon game now?”
“Yes, Logan,” I said, brushing off what was left of Dreadlock Boy from my jeans. “This is all a big conspiracy to make you crazy. Is it working? Will you go away now?”
�
��No and no,” he said, and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re really up to, Cassie, but I’m not falling for it. Thea’s my kid too, and I’m not going to stop coming around just because you want to act like a loon.”
“Very nice,” I said.
“MOM IS NOT A LOON,” Thea said, and I saw Logan wince at the tone and the capital letters. When Thea’s crabby she can make a point pretty fast.
“I meant loon in a nice way,” he said, backtracking right away.
Sure, I thought. Loon in the party sense, not in the Hotel-Funny-Farm kind of way. I frowned at him, but Logan forced a smile. True, he didn’t want to piss off his daughter, but the whole truth was, that smile was for me, too.
“Anyway,” he said, “I didn’t come to get into this. I came by to see if Thea wanted to go with me to pick out some paint for my new house.”
Ah, yes. The one he was moving into. Across the street from me. Could this day slide any farther down the drain?
“Can I?” Thea asked.
“Go ahead,” I said, taking small comfort in the fact that Logan was sure to be sorry for stopping by. Thea’s taste in paint colors went really wide of the beige I was sure Logan would want. It would serve him right to have a purple living room and an orange bathroom.
As for me, I wanted a beer and a bottle of aspirin. Not to mention a chance to lather, rinse and repeat to get what was left of Dreadlock Boy out of my hair.
Brady made spaghetti—always a hit at my house, although pretty much everything is, so there was no way for him to lose. But while we were eating at the kitchen table, Jasmine was talking. And talking. And talking.
About the queen, of all things. Almost enough to make me lose my appetite.
Almost.
“She’s losing patience,” Jasmine said.
“She’s not the only one,” I told her, and reached for the last slice of garlic bread. Thea beat me by an inch and shouted “Ha!” in victory. Fine, fine. Didn’t need a third slice anyway. Instead I concentrated on more spaghetti and another meatball.
Sugar moved under the table and sat on my foot, reminding me that she was hungry too. Kibble doesn’t count as food in my dog’s world.
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