I Married a Demon Page 25

  “Woo-hoo! Way to go, whoever you are!” Damned impressive driving, if you ask me. I just hoped I’d be able to thank the driver one day.

  “What? Tell me what you’re talking about?”

  Taking the first exit, I slowed down, stopped at a crossroads and glanced to my passenger seat. Huh? “Where are you?”

  “Down here. I told you you’d throw me off the seat.”

  Leaning over, I peered under the seat to find Partner stuck between an empty coffee mug and an assortment of crumpled snack packages. “Oh, quit bitching. I’m the one having to do the fancy driving. All you had to do was hang on.”

  The expression on the cowboy’s face made me bite my lip to keep from laughing. He, obviously, didn’t find this situation as amusing as I did.

  “’Hang on’, she says.” He let loose with a stream of beeps and whistles loud enough to make me cover my ears. “Really? Is that what you suggest I do? Hang on?”

  “Huh? Uh, yeah.”

  “Then tell me how I’m supposed to hang on with no arms.”

  I sputtered, caught with the truth of his statement. “Oh, uh, well…” My nonexistent answer trailed off.

  “Oh, uh, well what?”

  “This.” When in doubt, do something. Any action is preferable to no action. Following those two rules of thumb, I sat up and threw the car into gear. “I guess you’re stuck on the floor until we arrive home. Sorry, Partner, I’ve no time to chat. Gotta rush home and get demonized.”

  Aw, Hell. Cow’s Brains Again? Whatever Happened to Meatloaf?

  At some point, I knew I’d have to give in and bring Partner into the house and out into the open. Besides, after telling him about Blake’s and my plan to tell Michael I was a newly indoctrinated demon, thus convincing him to spill his guts—not literally, please!—I knew I couldn’t leave Partner in the garage any longer. I made him swear to keep his sound turned off, then agreed to his recommendation to record the evening. Who knows? Maybe one day I’d teach a Society class on How To Trick a Ghoul and Partner’s record of the evening would come in handy.

  Yeah, I know. I’m justifying.

  At least that’s how I rationalized it as I sat down to eat with Blake to my right and a very suspicious Michael staring at me from across the dining table. I smiled for what seemed like forever before deciding to give my face muscles a break. Instead, I sipped my wine. One sip. Then two sips. On to three sips and I suddenly realized my sips had grown into long swigs.

  “I’m glad you decided to join us tonight, Michael.” Blake smiled at his younger brother and offered him the serving bowl of green beans. After all, even ghouls should eat their vegetables.

  “Yeah, well, I promised I’d make up for the last time when I left unexpectedly.” Michael took the bowl and dished a pile of green beans onto his plate. “You make sure you keep your promise.”

  At the mention of a promise I gulped, sending the smooth Cabernet down the wrong pipe. Coughing, I waved away Blake’s hand and eventually managed to speak. “Promise? What”—cough—“kind of promise?”

  Blake waved away my question like I’d waved away his help. “Nothing much. I said we’d keep certain topics off the table.”

  Having no clue what he meant, I gave my husband a questioning look which he answered with a pointed one of his own. I interpreted his look as asking me to trust him so I closed my opened mouth, my brain storing the question for later. Unfortunately, sometimes my mouth works all on its own.

  “So, Michael, what have you been up to lately? Still working for Demogorgon?”

  Michael froze with his spaghetti-wrapped fork halfway to his mouth.

  Blake let the piece of bread in his hand drop to his plate. “Shit, Jenn. What about my promise?”

  I glanced between the two men and faked an innocence I knew neither one of them would buy. “Oops. Did I mention one of the off-topic topics?”

  Michael cocked an eyebrow at me and lowered his fork to his plate. “I don’t know what, or who, you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, come on, Michael. We’re all family here. You know, like the Addams Family or the Munsters. You can tell us. What’s the old fart up to? Ow!” Blake’s kick landed squarely on my ankle. “Hey, knock it off or you’ll end up with noodles all over your noodle.”

  “I’ll stop when you stop.” Blake gave me another, albeit lighter kick on the shin.

  “Maybe I should leave.” Michael started to rise from the table, not giving me time to think. “Thanks for a less-than-yummy meal.”

  “Huh? You’re leaving because I’m a lousy cook?” I reached over to lift the bowl of meatballs sitting in front of him. “Did you know I made the meatballs out of cow’s brains? Do you know how hard it is to find cow’s brains? They don’t carry them at the local grocery, you know.”

  Cow’s brains are a delicacy for Otherworlders. Granted, they prefer a human’s gray matter over a cow’s, but the bovine kind is a close second. I hoped he hadn’t noticed the lack of meatballs on top of my spaghetti. My willingness to do anything for the Society and the safety of the world didn’t include eating gunk like brains.

  “Come on, fratello, have some of my meat-a-balls-a. Like I said, we’re family. Consider us the supernatural version of the Mob.” I adopted a big grin at my politically incorrect imitation. Italians everywhere, please forgive me.

  Blake’s low growl told me not to push it.

  “Cow’s brains, huh? You definitely have one strange sense of humor, Jenn.” Michael obviously shared his brother’s opinion of my less-than-comical wit and stood to leave.

  I hopped up, determined to save the night and our plan. “No. Stay. Please. I’ll keep quiet, I swear.” I crossed my heart and held up three fingers in the Girl Scout salute.

  “Michael, stay.”

  Blake’s heartfelt plea must have won the argument since Michael nodded and returned to his seat. He picked up his fork and resumed eating, although his eyes had grown darker, meaner. I gave him a little bow of apology and sat down, too.

  “I think it’s time to give my brother the good news. Don’t you, Jenn? You’ve already given him enough hints.”

  I acted uncertain, but that didn’t stop Blake from starting Phase One of our plan. “Oh, but wouldn’t our news fall into one of those taboo areas?” I forced a mix of concerned and happy expressions on my face. “Still, it would be nice to get the good news out into the open.”

  Michael remained leery, stopping to check Blake’s reaction. “What good news do you have?” His gaze fell to my stomach, even though the table blocked his view. “Are you…?”

  I followed his gaze, searching my new silk top for spaghetti sauce stains. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d ruined a new outfit with my sloppy eating. But my top looked shiny and new. “Am I what?” Blake and I exchanged curious glances.

  “You know.” Michael’s mood lifted for the first time since sitting down at our table.

  I frowned at him and slashed my hand in the air space above the top of my head. “Nope. Sorry. Your question flew right over me. Am I what?”

  “Uh-huh. Okay, I’ll play along. Are you two pregnant? Am I going to be an uncle?”

  I shivered at the thought of a murdering ghoul for my child’s uncle. Of course, having a father who’s a demon wasn’t the best start in life, either. I could already hear the conversation at our first parent-teacher conference. “Mr. Barrington, we can’t have your son sucking the brains out of the other children’s heads. Little Lambs and Turtles Preschool simply won’t allow unruly behavior of any kind.”

  Blake’s amused chuckle didn’t help matters much. “Pregnant? Wow. Think of it, Jenn. Us as parents.”

  Me? A mom? Oh, wow. I wonder if there’s a Young Protectors Program? “Trust me. I’m thinking, all right.” I had to remember who my husband was on the inside. I had to hold on to the idea of his good spirit prevailing over his evil urges, despite having demon DNA inside him. Still, I didn’t want the misconception continuing for a minute l
onger. “Okay, stop right now. Talking about my being pregnant—which I’m not—isn’t my idea of pleasant table conversation. No, Michael, I’m not pregnant.”

  From the way he acted, I think Blake was as disappointed to hear I wasn’t pregnant as Michael was. What was with these two? Did going ghoul and demon stir their fatherly instincts into high gear? Could twisting a man’s head off and ripping his heart out go hand in hand with feelings of parental nurturing? Before this conversation, I would’ve doubted it.

  “Then what’s the news?”

  Blake rose to stand behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them, sending me a show of support. “Well, as you know, I’m a demon.”

  Michael’s features didn’t change a bit at Blake’s announcement. “Go on.”

  “And I’m a Protector.”

  He remained silent and stone-faced. Did anything throw this guy for a loop? Unless, of course, he already knew about me.

  Blake squeezed my shoulders again to urge me to continue. I guessed it was time to jump in with both feet. I said a quick silent prayer and hoped I didn’t land in quicksand.

  “Did you hear what I said, Michael? Blake’s a demon, which you already knew, and I’m a Protector.” Come on. Earth to Michael. Say something.

  Blake stepped to my side and took my hand. “More accurately, she was a Protector. Although she hasn’t officially resigned yet, she will soon. She’ll have to, of course.”

  Michael’s cold assessment of me made warm sweat slide down my spine. I’d confessed to being his worst enemy and he didn’t have a reaction? Too weird.

  Blake gripped my hand tighter, then prompted his brother. “Say something.”

  “Let me see if I have this straight. You’re a demon and she’s a Protector which I’m assuming is some kind of special agent or hero type.” Michael raised his glass in a mocking toast. “Quite the marriage you two have, what with making up stories together. But I always thought married people saved the pretend characters for the bedroom.” He slumped in his chair, yet despite his nonchalant attitude, his body language conveyed one big challenge. “Tell me. Do you dress up in a monster suit while Jenn gets dolled up in a Wonder Woman outfit? Kinky, guys.”

  “Cut it out.” Blake dropped my hand to move to his spot at the table again. But he didn’t sit. Instead, he gripped the back of his chair and leaned toward his brother. “Jenn knows everything. Including the part about you being a ghoul.” He gritted his teeth, straining to keep control of his emotions. “I know it’s my fault. You’re right to blame me. God knows I do.”

  Michael’s laugh startled me. What did this guy find funny? At this point, I couldn’t even force a smile.

  “And there’s more.”

  His mirth evaporated in an instant and the cold, suspicious Michael came back. “Okay, bro, I’ll bite. What more is there?”

  Blake’s hard expression told me to take the lead and I did. “I was a Protector. But now I’m a demon.”

  Michael didn’t laugh this time. Instead, he seemed to consider my words, weighing them with slow deliberation. “You’re a demon.”

  I laughed and Blake’s smile gave his brother confirmation of my statement. “Yup. I found out about Blake and you. Once I did, I had to make a choice between my work and my husband.” I took a breath and said out loud the commitment I’d, until then, kept unspoken. “I chose Blake.”

  “Ah, how sweet.” Michael feigned a saccharin smile for us.

  Okay, now he’d pissed me off big time. A cold anger built inside me. Fortunately for him, I resisted my urge to slap him silly. “Yeah, it is.” I turned to Blake, who stood looking at me with all the love in the universe showing on his face, and I knew right then and there I would give up the Society for him. Hell, I might even become a demon─a good one, that is─for him. Maybe. Of course, my first choice would have him becoming mortal again.

  “We want you to know you don’t have to hide what you are from her any longer. We’re all in the same company. We really are the same family.”

  Blake continued working the plan and I tried to squelch my desire to gut the ghoul smirking at me. Brother-in-law or not, he was one obnoxious jerk. “Agreed. Let’s can the pretence, okay?”

  Michael lifted his wine glass to his lips and downed every drop. “You two sure know how to throw a dinner party. I have to say, the entertainment is much better than the actual food.”

  “That does it.” I got up and dashed around the table toward my rude dinner guest. “Granted, I’ve never claimed to be a good cook—”

  “I’ll say.” Michael covered his mouth and puffed out his cheeks in a perfect imitation of someone gagging on a nasty bit of food.

  “—but you could at least appreciate the effort involved. I mean, hell, I’m talking making meatballs out of cow’s brains. Yuck and double yuck.”

  “I thought you liked cow’s brains.” Michael’s narrowed eyes saved him from getting a fat lip.

  “I-I do. But they’re a lot of work.”

  “I take it you want a medal for your attempt?”

  Could this guy get any more annoying? “I’m warning you, bro, if you slam my cooking one more time, I’m going to push your face into your spaghetti until you breathe sauce through your ears.” I’d cooked for a damn ghoul and he wasn’t about to get away with ridiculing me.

  “Easy, Jenn.” I reached for Michael, but Blake dashed between us, thwarting my move. “He’s getting to you. Besides, your cooking isn’t what we need to discuss. Remember?”

  I let the steam inside me bubble from a simmer to a boil. “Yeah.” I twisted around Blake to point at Michael. “But I’m not going to let some two-bit ghoul talk trash about my cooking in my own home.”

  “Babe, calm down. Can’t you see he’s trying to change the subject?”

  Was Blake right? A rush of realization swept through my body. Michael had baited me in order to change the subject and I’d taken his lure like the last fish in a dried-up mudhole.

  The flash of red in Michael’s eyes said it all. “I say it as I taste it.”

  Blake kept his hold on me and pushed me backward. I flailed but not before I caught a glimpse of Partner, silently flashing his lights wildly in an attempt to gain my attention. Dammit, not now, Partner. I knew I should’ve put him in a drawer instead of placing him behind the silk plant on the buffet table. I have enough on my plate without having to deal with an attention-seeking, glorified PDA.

  Letting go of me, Blake whirled on his brother. “Let’s stay on track with the real conversation. We know who you’re working for. All we want is a piece of the action. I work for the same high demon lord, you know, and I’m trying to find the same piece of jewelry you are. Why not work together?”

  “I haven’t got a clue what you’re raving about.” Staying calm—at least outwardly—Michael poured himself another glass of wine. “I think you two must’ve shared a few bottles before I showed up. Forget this crazy talk about ghouls and demons. Why would I care about some bracelet?” He held up his jewelry-free hands. “I’ve never liked jewelry.”

  I growled much like a real demon would do and made a lunge for him. “Let me at him, Blake. We don’t need him for the Bracelet.”

  Blake, however, wasn’t ready to have me take his brother out of this world. “Why are you denying you’re a ghoul, man? It’s okay to admit it in front of her. She’s one of us now.”

  For a moment, I could see Michael considering Blake’s words. Instead, his face grew even more guarded. “She’ll never be one of us.”

  Was this his way of admitting the truth? I stopped fighting against Blake and waited. I should’ve known it was useless, though.

  “I mean, she’ll never be one of our class. You married down, bro.”

  The top of the volcano inside me blew off. First, he insults my cooking and now he insults me? Someone tell me this is not happening. “Why you lousy, brain-sucking asshole.”

  “See how crude she is?” Michael took another sip of wine.
“Need I say more?”

  I was so flabbergasted I couldn’t speak. Worse, Blake didn’t say anything, either. Why doesn’t he stick up for me? I glared at him, challenging him to say something in my defense.

  Yet, instead of defending me, Blake kept trying to get his brother to admit the truth. “We can help you find the Bracelet. If you’ve already found the Bracelet of Invincibility, then great. We’ll help you put it to good use. You’re going to need our help if you plan on crossing Demogorgon.”

  “Admit it, Michael. You’ve got the Bracelet. In fact, I think you found it when you broke into the thieves’ house.” I had no proof, but who knew what a little bluffing might uncover?

  Michael’s laugh was anything but lighthearted. “You’re something else. First you accuse me of being some kind of a monster. Then you go a step further by accusing me of breaking and entering into someone’s house. What is with you?” He glared at me. “I read about those men in the paper. Are you accusing me of murder, too? When do the accusations end?” He pointed his index finger at his head and circled it around. “I think your little woman’s gone off the deep end, bro.”

  Little woman? Where the hell does he get off calling me a little woman? Talk about insulting! I fisted my hands and forced myself to keep them at my side.

  “We want to work with you. Help me get the Otherworlders off Jenn’s back, and we’ll use the Bracelet together. What could be better? Us back together along with my wife, the ex-Protector-turned-demon?”

  Although he’d spoken in a soft tone, Blake’s calm voice didn’t soothe my rattled nerves, much less cut my anger. Not one bit. In fact, I was miffed he hadn’t stood up for me, claiming me to be his equal in every way. Especially after the “little woman” crack. I opened my mouth to blast both my nineteen-fifties-thinking brother-in-law and my non-protective hubby. But Michael’s demeanor shifted, throwing me off balance.