I Married a Demon Page 21

  Keeping in her grandmotherly character, Mrs. Wipp tisked at him. “Don’t get your tail all twisted. I have my offer right…here!” She struck out with the force of a professional boxer, knocking the demon in the head with her purse and sending him crashing against the glass display case. The bracelet flew across the room. Grimsley slumped to the floor but, thanks to the protective safety glass, the case remained intact.

  Taking her lead, I executed a roundhouse kick and shouted a loud, “Kee-ah!” My aim was dead on, striking Buzz’s balls exactly where I’d intended. My tae kwon do instructor at the Society would have been proud. Buzz folded into a fetal position, hitting the floor next to his friend with a satisfying thud.

  Mrs. Wipp yelled, “Geronimo!” and shoved Grimsley to his back with her foot resting on his chest. She grabbed her knitting needle off the counter and fell on top of him, hitching up her flowery dress and straddling him. “Get the bracelet, Jenny.”

  Heeding her call, I landed another kick on Buzz’s mid-section for good measure, then raced to the other side of the room and grabbed the bracelet. “I’ve got it!”

  “Good.” Mrs. Wipp’s smile left her lips. She glared at the demon who struggled under her weight, which was planted firmly on top of his chest. “Say goodbye, Grimsley.” He screamed, emitting a terrible high-pitched sound. With a warrior’s cry, she jabbed the needle into his throat. The scream changed into a gurgle and she hopped off the quickly morphing body. “Oh, my, how I’ve missed this. Don’t get me wrong. Baking is a wonderfully creative outlet, too, but it can’t compare to the rush I get when I take one of these vermin out of the game.”

  Grimsley’s body changed, going through a rapid metamorphosis, adopting one body image after another of all the humans he’d possessed during his existence. I counted at least seven people of various ages and ethnicity until his body finally became the skeleton of the very first person he’d ever possessed. The bones shortened, shrinking to a petite-size skeleton, and finally crumbled to dust.

  “His first victim was a child.” The tone in Mrs. Wipp’s voice matched the pain in my heart. “At least her soul can rest easy now.”

  “Yeah.” Spotting Buzz attempting to crawl behind one of the counters, I rushed over and grabbed his foot. He shrieked and tried to kick my hand away. “Sorry. I hate to be a buzz-kill, but it’s your turn…dude.” Weaponless, I called for help. “Mrs. Wipp?”

  She correctly interpreted my need and tossed the knitting needle my way. I caught it in mid-air and flipped it around to put the pointed end in between Buzz’s shoulder blades. “Actually, I lied. I’m gonna love being a Buzz-kill.” Using all my strength, I jabbed the needle into the back of his neck. Listening to the hissing sound of air leaving his body, I sprang out of the way and watched him disintegrate. Unlike his friend, Buzz’s body didn’t morph into the remains of different victims, but quickly changed to skeletal form and into dust.

  “He was a young demon.”

  I nodded. “Good. Better to get them young before they work their way through too many people. Hey! Where’d Mr. Yang go?”

  Mrs. Wipp took the needle out of my hand, picked up a jewelry cloth from the counter, and wiped it clean. “The scumbag ran out of here so fast he broke the sound barrier. Never mind. We’ll send reinforcements to take care of him later. Let’s take a look at that bracelet.”

  I’d almost forgotten about the bracelet I still clutched with my other hand. Holding it up, I checked for an inscription and felt my pulse throb faster when I found one. Squinting, I read the message out loud.

  Peek-a-Boo, I See You!

  “To Gloria from Alex.”

  I had to reread the inscription several times before it finally sunk in. This wasn’t the Bracelet. “Dammit, dammit, dammit, double dammit.”

  “Really, Jenn. A lady shouldn’t curse.”

  “Oh, ho! I see Partner’s still the same conservative at heart. You dream of a wife in the kitchen, pregnant and barefoot, don’t cha, Partner?” Mrs. Wipp laughed. “Jenny, don’t let this minor bump in the road bring you down. Even if we didn’t find the Bracelet, at least we’ve rid the world of two demons. It beats the hell out of baking brownies.”

  I tossed the useless bracelet on top of the counter. Fighting the frustration building inside, I rubbed the toe of my shoe in Buzz’s dust and pondered my situation. If push came to shove, could I do the same to Blake? And what if he found out I was a Protector? Would he understand and accept my role as a demon exterminator? Would he have any remorse killing me?

  “Go home, Jenny. You need to find out what Blake and Demogorgon have planned. If you can’t kill Demogorgon, you need to stop him from getting the Bracelet.” Her arm slid around my shoulders to lead me out of the store. “As for Blake, you can’t let him in on your secret. Not until we have the Bracelet in our possession. Once you’ve completed your mission, it’s your call, but a Protector married to a demon? It simply can’t work.”

  We walked out of the jewelry store, leaving it in almost the same condition we’d found it, except for a couple piles of clothing and ashes. The Society’s Psych Squad could take care of Melissa—providing she was human and not demon—but I was ready to bet Mr. Yang was already gone and would never show his face around town again. After all, not only did the Society know about him now, but he’d failed to get the Bracelet for Demogorgon.

  Pulling me around to take both my shoulders, Mrs. Wipp looked me in the eyes, making me aware of the seriousness of the situation. As if I didn’t already know! “You’re going to have to make a choice. Either you stay on with the Society or you stay with your husband. You can’t go on as you have. Not once headquarters finds out what he is.”

  She hugged me to her, smothering me with the mixed aroma of cinnamon and demon dust. “Take care, Jenny. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice.” With one last squeeze, she turned and walked away.

  The ride home was both the longest and the shortest ride I’d ever taken. Although I wanted to get home and find some quiet time to reflect on my next move, I dreaded the possibility of seeing Blake. Could I do what Mrs. Wipp suggested? Could I pretend not to know about Blake and act naturally around him?

  I pulled into my driveway to find Myra sitting on my front porch. Leaving the strangely quiet Partner on the passenger seat, I left my car and shuffled over to sit next to her.

  “Long day, huh?” She leaned into me to push against my shoulder with hers. “Anything exciting happen?”

  Myra desperately wanted to be a Protector and loved hearing about my missions and the Otherworlders. Most of the time, I enjoyed telling her about my adventures, but tonight was different. This mission hit too close to home for an easy tell. “I’m sorry, Myra, but I’m wiped out. I don’t have it in me to talk shop. Do you mind?”

  She bumped me again. “Of course not, as long as I get a rain check.”

  A vision of the rain check I’d gotten from Blake was in and out of my mind in a flash. “Deal.”

  “I went shopping.” She lifted her large tote bag and jiggled it. “I bought a whole purse full of great costume pieces.”

  “That’s great, Myra.” I knew I wasn’t being a very supportive or interesting friend, but I was simply tuckered out. My mind just wouldn’t kick into gear.

  I shook my head, letting my mind wonder to thoughts of Blake. How could I have married a demon without knowing it? And now that I knew he was a demon, how could I find out what he had going with Demogorgon? Myra continued to rattle on about who knew what, blissfully unaware of how off-kilter my life had gone.

  An image of Blake sauntering over to me on the beach shot raw emotion through me, twisting my gut into a tangled mess. I sighed, remembering the blazing sun making his skin glisten when the light hit the water on his body to create sparkling beads. Oh, how I’d wanted to lick those drops before they could shimmy along his tight abs. Thing is, I’d gotten to lick them off, along with his thorough licking of my body. Had I been too consumed with sex, making me miss the signs of
demonic possession?

  “Anyway, I have bigger news.”

  The part of my consciousness keeping track of Myra’s ongoing conversation alerted the rest of my mind to the change in topics. I broke free of my remembrances of Blake and did my best to concentrate on my friend’s words. “Yeah?”

  Myra reached over and pulled the hair on my arm.

  “Ow! Since when did you get violent?”

  “Since you deserved it. I knew you weren’t listening to me blabber on.”

  I made a guilty face and tried to beg forgiveness. “Shoot, Myra, I’m sorry. You know I like hearing about your life, but the—”

  “I know. I know. The weight of the world is on your shoulders.”

  I smiled, thankful she had no clue how close she’d come to the truth. “Yeah, the weight of the world right here, sister.” I patted my shoulder and slumped over.

  “No problem. I understand. But listen for a sec, okay?”

  The excitement in her eyes piqued my interest and I forced my full attention her way. “Yes, ma’am. Spill. What’s the big news?”

  “You remember George, right?”

  The grin spreading across her face reminded me of the one I’d had when I’d first met Blake. “Hmm. Let’s see. Big guy, right? Lives in the woods? Likes fish? Eats more than ten men?” I placed a finger on my chin in the classic Jack Benny pose. A pose I knew Myra wouldn’t connect with the well-known older comedian. She never watched the black-and-white shows like Blake and I did. The cozy picture of Blake and I snuggling under the covers, laughing at the old movies, threatened to send a pain to the center of my heart, but I pushed it away before the emotional dagger could strike its mark. “Nope. Can’t say I remember.”

  “Jenn, stop kidding around.” She gave me a playful slap. “Come on. I can’t wait to tell you.”

  “Okay, okay. What’s up with the big guy?” I hadn’t thought to check with Myra after the impromptu dinner party the other night. “I guess you two have gotten together since the other night?”

  A pink hue flushed into her cheeks and added to the happy glow on her face. “Uh-huh. In fact, George came home with me and never left. He’s staying with me.”

  I paused, letting her startling news sink in. Myra was Ms. Proper Behavior. For her to take a man home within hours of their meeting was amazing. I glanced up to the sky to check for any signs of winter weather moving in. Hell had to have frozen over.

  “Wow. George is staying at your place. Wow.” I squinted my eyes and dived in for the real dirt. “Myra Shuster, are you telling me you’re shacking up with a man you hardly know? Myra, are you getting busy with George the Great?”

  “If you’re asking if we’re having sex”—Myra tucked her head, peeking at me through long lashes—“then yes. I’m having sex with George.” She giggled. “Funny you should call him ‘George the Great’…because he certainly is.”

  I laughed and hugged her to me. At least someone’s life didn’t stink. “Wonderful, Myra! I’m happy for you. Shocked and amazed, but happy.”

  “And here’s the best part.” She took a big breath and waited for me to coax her.

  “Tell me you’re not getting married.” Having a fun time in the sack was one thing. Marriage, on the other hand, was serious business. And rushing into marriage? Well, I knew how disastrous that could be.

  She blurted out the rest with her exhale. “George wants me to come with him to his home in the woods. He says he wants to tell me something important.”

  Being a suspicious person by nature—except, I guess, for my lapse with Blake—I couldn’t help but analyze her words. “He wants to tell you something important. Not ask you something important. I’m thinking he’s not talking about marriage.”

  Myra’s enthusiasm died a quick death. “Why are you picking apart everything I say? I don’t know what George wants to tell me, but I’m damned sure going to go and find out.”

  I tried to backpedal without giving up an inch. “I’m sorry, Myra, but you’ve got to admit, you haven’t had much experience in these matters.”

  “Oh, great. Now you’re not only acting like my mother, but you’re calling me naïve and gullible. Thanks a lot.”

  “I’m not trying to mother you or call you names. I’m trying to be your friend and watch out for you. You hardly know the man.” Again, Blake’s face flashed in my mind’s eye and I knew I’d already done exactly what I didn’t want Myra to do. “Why not slow things down a little? Take your time to get to know him better, here where you’re safe.”

  The hurt expression on Myra’s face didn’t help matters. Yet it was better than the accusatory tone of her voice. “You’ve never liked George much, have you? I could tell by the way you acted the other night. You got all fidgety. Like he was one of those creatures you hunt.”

  The hair on my neck stood up, ready to call out reinforcements. Not all supernaturals were horrible creatures and Blake was living proof. Or at least, I hoped he was. “Not true, Myra. I like George. How can I not like him? He saved my butt. I’m only saying you might want to take things at a more leisurely pace and enjoy yourself. What’s the rush?”

  Myra was on her feet and moving down the sidewalk. “I can’t believe you’re acting like this. George and I found each other and I don’t care if we haven’t known each other very long.”

  She wheeled to face me, causing me to bump into her. “You don’t understand, Myra. I’m trying to help.”

  She poked me once in the chest, let out a frustrated grunt, and whirled around again. “Shit, the kettle is calling the spoon black.”

  “It’s ‘the kettle calling the pot black’.” Again, she spun to face me and, again, I bumped into her. “Give me some warning when you’re reversing directions, will you?”

  “What? What about a pot?”

  “It’s a pot. Not a spoon.” I grinned, hoping to find the normally affable Myra inside this red-faced, spitting woman. Instead, I had to deal with Myra the Maniac.

  With a snarl, she pushed me backward, pivoted and stalked several feet away before I realized my peaceful friend had shoved me.

  “Calm down.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Hardgrave doing a piss-poor job of pruning her rose bushes. Pruning is hard when your concentration is on the fight going on across the street. “Myra, you’re causing a scene. Mrs. Hardgrave is eating this up with the spoon you mentioned.” Okay, so maybe I should’ve shut up about the spoon.

  I realized a little too late this wasn’t a good time for a joke. She backtracked to tear into me. “If you don’t watch out, I’ll give you a spoon right up your nose. I will not calm down. Not until you apologize. Just because you’re a big-time Protector doesn’t mean you can run other people’s lives.”

  Enough was enough. I grabbed Myra’s arm. Putting my thankfully spoonless nose close to hers, I hissed my words, hoping to bring the volume of our argument down. “Dammit, Myra. Do you want everyone to know what I do? Knock it off. You’re not thinking. Will you come inside and let me explain?”

  Myra stopped to scan the rest of the street. I could almost see the steam coming off her. At last, she started to cool the fire of her rage. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said…you know what.”

  I let out a huge breath of pent-up air and emotion. “Me, too. Could we please talk about this rationally?” I moved my eyes in a quick motion toward Mrs. Hardgrave and back. “Away from eavesdropping neighbors?”

  Myra nodded and let me pull her along with me. A shout startled us, making Myra jump. A man wearing a hooded mask bolted from behind the bushes separating my yard from my neighbor’s. He shouted again, brandishing a long dagger at me.

  The Protector in me took over and I leapt in front of Myra, pushing her out of range of the lethal-looking knife. Executing a roundhouse kick, I doubled the man over. (When I tell this story later, I won’t mention how I’d missed my real target—his knife.) At least I’d connected, but he wasn’t down for the count. Growling my frustration, I tried
to parlay my kick with a blow to his head, but he thrust out his other hand, blocking my attempt.

  I went down hard, striking my shoulder against the sidewalk pavement. The stun gun he’d used grazed my hand. Pain shot up from my arm, forcing me to stay on the ground, trying to regain my senses.

  The attacker, seizing the opportunity, snatched Myra’s purse before throwing the knife at me. I rolled seconds before the blade pierced the ground beside me.

  “Thief! Help! Thief!”

  Managing to push up on my throbbing elbow, I waited for the world to stop spinning. But even my addled mind couldn’t have dreamed up the sight of Mrs. Hardgrave streaking across the street, intercepting the fleeing robber. She struck out with her rake, but he sidestepped her. Like the desperate-housewife version of a knight of the Round Table, she swung her garden-sword into action. I had to admire her spunk and skill. Without a regard for her safety, she chased the man several yards before he sped around the corner and vanished from view.

  Puffing, Mrs. Hardgrave joined Myra in helping me to my feet. “Jenny, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” My dignity had taken more of a bruising than my body. Although I was loath to admit it, I’d been saved by Mrs. Hardgrave. Still, the woman deserved praise. “Way to go, Mrs. H. You ran him off, but good.” With my unhurt arm, I patted her on the back, giving her one of the few genuine smiles I’d ever shown her. “And about the other day…” I was working my way up to a belated apology, but Mrs. H. headed me off at the pass.

  “Oh, piddle-poop, honey. Don’t worry about it.” Mrs. H. gave me a pat of my own.

  “You were amazing, Mrs. H.” Myra cast me an apologetic look. “You, too, Jenn. You totally took the brunt of the attack by shoving me out of the way.” She wrapped an arm around both of us. “You’re both my heroes.”

  Mrs. H. grinned and waved off Myra’s tribute. “Shouldn’t we call the police?”

  “No!”

  Myra and Mrs. H stared at the crazy woman─me.