Demon Ex Machina: Tales of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom (12 page)

BOOK: Demon Ex Machina: Tales of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
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At the same time, I burst up, head and knees rocking forward as I jerked to the side, managing to off-balance her so that the knife that had been aiming for my chest instead sliced my sleeve and drew a long line of blood.
I howled, a loud, raucous noise, and my head seemed to split open into flashes of red and white as Lisa leaped off me, looking around wildly at the crowd. She kicked out and got me in the ribs, knocking me back as I was trying to rise, all the while screaming for John-John to join her as she sprinted toward the exit.
He raced forward, limping slightly, the irritated toddler face now clearly revealing the malice of a fully grown man.
Or, rather, a fully grown demon.
Dear God, Timmy.
I was up in an instant, racing to the kids’ room, realizing as I flew that the red and white lights in my head weren’t from a concussion but from the fire alarm that someone had tripped.
I had no idea who, but I was desperately grateful, especially when I found my little boy screaming in the back room, complaining about the big noise, and his sister fighting back tears as she clutched him in a bear hug. “He had a pencil shoved in his ear and a thumb against his eye,” Allie said, switching her hug to me as I clutched tight to Timmy, my insides gone to liquid. “He was just a little kid, Mom. A baby.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of my own baby’s hair, trying to stop the trembling inside me. “No,” I said. “He wasn’t a baby. He was a demon. And we’re all lucky to be alive.”
Six
“Do you believe her?”
Laura asked, as she moved around my kitchen, randomly opening and closing drawers and straightening whatever out-of-place utensils got caught in her sharp, obsessive gaze. “That Lisa isn’t the She-Demon, I mean?”
“Considering she was about to kill me, I don’t really see the point of lying,” I said, with a glance toward Timmy, who was amusing himself by whapping my clean silverware on the floor. “So yeah, I’m thinking she’s only a minion.”
“A scary, horrible, freakish minion with a toddler consort. Ick. Major, major, major ick,” she added, putting her back into the scrubbing now, so much so that I almost reached out and made her sit down—her constant motion was making me jumpy—but I understood the reason for her movement. Nervous energy. And Laura, for better or for worse, didn’t get the chance to work hers off with a stiletto or a crossbow.
At the same time, Laura wasn’t the one with her arm stinging from disinfectant. I scowled and rubbed my hand over the bandage, still more than a little amazed that not only was I alive, but that all of the women in our group believed my off-the-cuff story about how Lisa was a plant to prove the point that even people who are skilled in self-defense (that would be me) can get their ass kicked if they’re not constantly on guard. The lesson was so creative and brilliant, in fact, that the group gave us a standing ovation.
In reality, Laura had realized the knife was real, completely freaked out, and had raced to Cutter’s office and yanked down the fire alarm, thus accounting for the red and white flashing lights I’d seen. The ladies, thankfully, had believed that was part of the fun.
As for Cutter, he’d come back after all the drama was over, but when Laura was still hyperventilating. “She okay?” he’d asked, and I’d responded with the completely irrelevant comment that Laura was thrilled we were doing the class since it gave her the opportunity to work out her aggressions.
“Divorce,” Cutter had said knowingly.
I’d nodded. “That and the guy she’s been seeing. Broke up with her,” I added, in response to his questioning expression.
It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a flash of interest. Since my thoughts were more in tune with attacking female demons and their toddler consorts, however, I’d paid it very little mind.
Now in my house with my thoughts free to roam, I had to wonder if there wasn’t a little spark between Cutter and my best friend.
I didn’t have time to ask Laura, though, because two sets of footsteps pounded on the stairs, and I heard Allie call out for Mindy. “Would you just wait? Mindy! Come on—”
“Come on what?” Mindy retorted, her tone sharp. “Come on and wait around while you make up some stupid story? I’m not an idiot, Allie. Something’s up around here, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. That’s just fine,” she repeated, since obviously it wasn’t fine at all. “I’m tired of the whole stinking thing.”
“Mindy!” Allie said, clomping after her. “It was just some freak. The kind of freak that’s the reason Mom’s having the classes in the first place.”
I caught Laura’s eye. Wasn’t
that
the truth.
“Just stay, okay?” Allie continued. “We’ve got finals soon and you promised to help me with algebra.”
“You know what would help?” Mindy shot back. “Studying. Wild and crazy, I know, but maybe if you studied instead of whatever else you’re into lately, you wouldn’t need me to cram with you at the last minute.”
Last minute?
I mouthed to Laura, but I could see from her innocent expression that she’d been impressing on Mindy that even months out from finals was last minute as far as she and their scholarship plans were concerned.
“But you have fun with whatever it is you’re doing. I already told you, I’m going to the movies with Bethany and Emily.” And with that, she slammed the door, just as Allie skidded to a halt in the living room, in full view of me and Laura, the misery on her face making my heart break a little.
“Allie,” I said softly. “Tell her.” I swiveled to look at Laura, who nodded once, then managed a watery smile.
“It’s time,” Laura said.
“Then you do it,” Allie said, surly. “She doesn’t want to hear it from me.”
“You’re exactly the one she wants to hear it from,” Laura said kindly.
Allie shifted from foot to foot. “She’s going out. The movies. And she’s gonna be pissed.”
“That you’re doing something she’s not?” I asked.
“That I didn’t tell her,” Allie said.
“The longer you wait, the more pissed she’ll be,” Laura said. “And I think she’ll understand. At least give her the chance.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Allie said. But instead of running after Mindy, she ran upstairs.
I caught Laura’s eyes. “That went well.” I drew in a breath. “You’ll be in the doghouse with her again, too,” I added. Laura had recently felt the wrath of Mindy when she and Paul had decided to delay news of their impending divorce until after the holidays. It hadn’t been pretty.
“It’ll be okay,” Laura said firmly. “This isn’t my secret to share. It’s yours and Allie’s. She’ll understand that.” She moved to the refrigerator and yanked open the door, then pulled out a sticky ketchup bottle and began to rinse it in warm water. “I think.”
I sat back at the table, feeling no guilt that my best friend was cleaning my kitchen. We all work off our stress differently, and I figured that not pitching in was my little contribution to Laura’s mental health and well-being.
After a few moments of scrubbing, she broke the silence with a sigh. “That kid.” She shivered. “That little boy.”
“I know,” I said. “But you need to remember that he’s not really a little boy. Not anymore.”
Laura’s eyes cut to Timmy, who was still making music with forks and spoons. “I know. But knowing and believing aren’t always the same thing.”
I pushed out of the chair and went over to my kid, who gleefully passed me a serving spoon so I could join the band. I whacked listlessly a couple of times, then couldn’t stand it anymore. I hugged him close and was rewarded with his chubby little arms going tight around my neck. “I like you, Mommy,” he announced, making me laugh. “I like you sooooo much!”
“Good to know,” I said. “I like you, too, Sport.”
“At least you have a lead now, right? You can figure out where they’re playing house, hunt them down, beat them up because you know you want to, and then learn everything you can about this She-Demon.”
“Not a bad plan,” I said. Laura certainly had right the part about wanting to beat them up. “But I don’t have a clue where to start looking.”
“I do,” Allie said from the doorway, making both me and Laura jump. “Jeez. Antsy much?”
“Something like that,” I said, then plunked Timmy back onto the floor. He blew me a big kiss, then toddled off to wreak havoc in the living room, the spoon still tight in his hand. I debated between following him to render safe my personal possessions or staying and listening to Allie’s demon report.
I chose the demons, and hoped I wouldn’t regret it.
Allie slapped a printout from the computer on the table in front of us with dramatic flair. “
L.A. Times
Metro section. Page five. Two weeks ago.”
Laura grabbed the paper before I did, and since I couldn’t stand not knowing, I got up and walked around to stand behind her.
Their deaths warranted only two paragraphs, though I supposed that if the world knew they were actually dead, the story might have been bigger. As it was, the reporter had simply transcribed the facts as he knew them. Apparently the real Lisa and John-John had been hit by a drunk driver in a Hummer going eighty in a thirty-mile-an-hour zone, sending the minivan into a violent rollover. The airbags deployed, presumably saving the mommy and kid despite the rollover and ultimate high-velocity crash into a utility pole. All of which would have been good news if the airbags really had saved them. But despite those fabulous safety features, I knew the truth. Mom and baby had died. And two demons had decided to take up residence.
None of which was reported in the article, of course. Instead, the newspaper reported that a nurse in the following car rushed to assist, found no pulse on either of the victims, and called 911 even as she began CPR. Her efforts, of course, were successful, and the paper lauded her skill and Good Samaritan attitude.
Me, I knew they would have come back even without the breaths and compressions.
“Treated for minor abrasions and released,” Allie said. “The thing is, they were San Diablo residents. But the local paper didn’t report it.” She shrugged. “So we missed it.”
One of my habits is to review the daily paper looking for potential new demons. If I find any, I make it a point to try to track them down on patrol. Since I didn’t know about Lisa and John-John, they hadn’t been on my hunting radar.
“Anyway,” Allie went on, “I guess when they got back to San Diablo they dug in and played good little soldiers until it was time to go shopping for a fight.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn’t help but smile at Allie’s tough-guy Demon Hunter persona. I might have hesitated to get her involved—might still be hesitating for that matter—but there was no denying that she had the skills and the attitude.
She clasped her hands in front of her on the table, corporate-meeting style. “But what I don’t get is how can that little boy be a demon? I thought they could only use grown-up bodies.”
“Why’d you think that?” I asked, channeling Father Corletti and Wilson and any of a half dozen other teachers I’d had during my years of training at
Forza
.
“Well, because, because babies are—”
“Innocent,” Laura said. “And you told us that the souls of the faithful fight. That’s why demons don’t slide into every dead body that comes along.”
“Faith and innocence aren’t the same thing.”
“Dear God,” Laura said.
“I don’t know the mechanics of it,” I said, speaking briskly so that my thoughts didn’t shift to my own little boy. “Maybe children aren’t strong enough yet to fight. All I know is that it happens. But that dead little boy’s soul is gone and safe, even if his body is being used. And that’s what matters.”
“But if little kids can’t fight, then why don’t more demons use them?” Laura asked.
I shrugged. “Limitations of the flesh, I’d think. The demon’s essence is stuck with the body it goes into. It gets some of that preternatural strength, sure, but it’s stuck in chubby little limbs with an inconvenient center of gravity. And even if the demon can articulate and think and reason better than your average twenty-six-month-old, if it does any of that in public, there goes any hope of blending in.”
“So why’d this demon slip into John-John?”
“I don’t know. They’re obviously a team. Maybe those were the only bodies available.”
“Or maybe the intent was to get Timmy all along, and this was their top-notch evil plan.” That from Laura, who was pouring a cup of coffee even while looking so seriously at me it made my stomach twist. “Kate, why would they want your little boy?”
“To hurt Mom,” Allie said, and I knew that no matter what, I wasn’t underestimating my daughter’s reasoning skills again.
Laura’s eyes met mine. “Whoever she is, she wants you bad.”
“She?” Allie repeated. “The She-Demon you guys were talking about when I came back in?”
I met Laura’s eyes, then took a sip of my coffee and nodded.
“So who is she?” Allie asked. “Does she have anything to do with Odayne?”
I barely managed not to spit coffee all over the table. “Odayne?” I repeated. “What do you know about Odayne?”
“Not much,” she said. “Eddie called and asked me to start some research for him. A demon named Odayne.”
I made a mental note to string Eddie up by his toenails. “Did Eddie say why?”
“He said the demon’s one of Daddy’s old enemies. Was he giving it to me straight?”
“As an arrow,” I said, pleased to at least not have to concoct a complicated lie. “So what have you found?”
“Nothing. But Eddie did say that Odayne has ties to some female demon, so when you were talking about this She-Demon, I thought maybe there was a connection.”
“Probably so,” I said, then decided to bite the bullet and give her a bit more of the truth. “There was a demon in the backyard last night. We’d sent it screaming right before you guys got home. But it mentioned Odayne and the She-Demon both.”
BOOK: Demon Ex Machina: Tales of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
11.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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