More Than Fiends (19 page)

“The demon thing again?” Her left eyebrow lifted, and she scowled at me. “Honestly, MOTHER, I thought we'd worked all this out.”

“It's not Jett I'm worried about,” I lied, breaking off a piece of Pop Tart and tossing it into my mouth. “It's his relatives.”

“Mom…”

“Baby girl, something's going on in town, something big, and I want you to be careful.”

My tone must have convinced her when my words didn't. She set her spoon down in the bowl and watched me. “I'm almost sixteen, Mom,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

Huh. That's what
I'd
thought when I was sixteen. Nine months later, I was a mommy.

“I'm just saying to watch yourself. The demons aren't real happy about having me around.”

Instantly, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. “Are you in trouble?”

“Nah,” I said, not wanting her to worry. “I can handle it as long as I know you're safe.”

“I am,” she assured me airily, and stood up, dropping the last of her toast to Sugar. “Honestly, Mom, you worry too much.”

Outside, a car horn honked, and Thea rolled her eyes, though a small smile curved her mouth. “When did picking me up for school every morning become my father's job?”

Logan. Hadn't seen him in a few days. Ever since my date with Devlin, Logan had made himself scarce. He still saw Thea every day, but it seemed he was avoiding me. Strange as it sounded—even to me—I almost missed him.

I didn't say any of that, naturally. Instead, I shrugged and took another bite of my breakfast. “He likes doing it.”

“I know,” Thea said, waving as she raced from the room. “Later!”

As soon as my daughter was gone, the back door opened behind me, and Jasmine stepped into the room. I turned on my chair and looked up into her dark eyes.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Ready to train. To get better at fighting. To be able to protect my daughter and anyone else who needed it. “Hell yes, I'm ready.”

 

After I nearly exhausted myself with Jasmine, the thought of cleaning made me want to sit down with a bucket of ice cream. It didn't seem fair that I had to not only save the world, but also clean toilets.

I whipped through the two houses on my list for the day and met up with Carmen back at my house.

“We are getting more clients than we can handle,” Carmen said, taking another bottle of our demon/window spray. “Mrs. Hasting's neighbor asked me yesterday for your phone number.”

“That's good news,” I said, watching as the older woman frowned. Carmen was way more predictable than the weather. When things were going well, she frowned. When they were going bad, she frowned harder. She says it's because her sons sucked all of her smiles out years ago and she's too tired to find more.

Hey, I have a daughter. Maybe sons
do
suck!

“Rosario is doing well,” Carmen said, taking a sip of her coffee and frowning at it. “But I think we will have to hire Teresa and also Yolanda to keep up with the new work.”

She was right. We were getting way too much business for the three of us to handle. It seemed the weirder things got in town, the busier we got. Not a bad thing ordinarily, but at the moment, I half wished we were losing customers. At least then I could concentrate more on what was happening with Thea, the demons, Devlin, Logan.

“That'll work,” I said and tasted the coffee. Seemed fine to me. Carmen was pickier than most. Once she'd even stepped behind the bar at a Starbucks to show the barista what he was doing wrong on her latte. “Carmen, are you noticing anything…different in some of the houses lately?”

“You mean the ghosts?” she asked, folding up the apron she habitually wore when working. “
Sí.
They are quiet now.”

“You
knew
about the ghosts?” I hadn't had a clue until I'd started getting phone calls from relieved owners.

“You didn't?” She chuckled a little and shook her head at me.

“
No.
And I suppose you knew about the demons, too?”

“Sí,”
she said, and I had to pull a chair out and plunk down at the kitchen table. “There are dark places here. The name La Sombra in Spanish means The Shadows. Of course there are demons. There always have been.”

“I don't believe this,” I muttered. “We're having an actual conversation about demons, and you're not freaked out?”

“Pfft! Why would I be worried about a demon? I lived through three sons, all teenagers at once. And now,
Dios mio,
a ten-year-old. What could a demon show me that I have not already seen?”

“Got a point.”

“These things have always been, Cassidy,” she said sagely, packing up her supplies and hitching the box onto one hip. “Good battles evil. Children make us crazy. Clean houses get dirty. It's the way of the world.”

“Wow. Thanks, Grasshopper.”

“Pfft!” She smirked at me and marched out of the house, off to make somebody else nuts for a while.

So, had I been in a fugue my whole life? How had I missed what everyone else had been aware of? How had I not known about demons and ghosts and God knew what else was out there?

And had I woken up in time?

 

“I brought subs.”

I stared at Logan, standing on my front porch in the soft twilight, and thought about slamming the door in his face. He stays away for days, then shows up like he's expected? How rude was that? Besides, I'd had a miserably long day and really wasn't in the mood for this.

My expression must have told him exactly what I was thinking. He opened the top of the bag and let the delicious scent of marinara sauce waft over me. Sneaky bastard.

I still tried to be tough. “Thea's not here.”

“Didn't come to see Thea.”

Damn. I stifled a groan. He was going to want to talk about Devlin.

“Come on,” he coaxed and waved a bottle of wine at me to complete the temptation. “You can go out with Mr. Rich and Slimy and not have dinner with me?”

“Rich and slimy?”

His eyes narrowed despite the half smile on his face. “Cole's got quite a rep.”

“Logan—” I so didn't want to go there with him. Hell, I was only now coming to grips with the fact that I'd
done
a demon, for God's sake. I did a mental eye roll. That sounded like a porn movie. “No talking about Devlin.”

“Fine, we won't talk about him. We'll just eat.” He rattled the bag. “Torino's deli.”

I was done for and I knew it. I swung the door wide and let him in, nudging Sugar out of the way with a gentle knee shove.

Logan shot the dog a wary glance and hitched his bag of food a little higher, just in case. Hah! Like Sugar would actually jump for anything.

He walked into the living room, plopped himself down on the couch as though he belonged there, and set the white deli bag onto the coffee table. “I got two chicken parmesans.”

“Chips, too?”

“Of course.” He looked up at me. “Got a couple glasses and a corkscrew?”

I nodded and went to get them. When I came back into the room, he was settled in and looking comfy. I handed him a glass, let him open the bottle, fill mine then his own, and I took a long drink (screw letting it breathe) before reaching for my sandwich. First things first.

As I took a big bite and savored the hot cheese and thick tomato sauce, Logan took a long drink of his wine and shifted a look at me. “So, where's Thea?”

“Out with Jett,” I mumbled.

He inhaled sharply and blew the breath out in disgust. “I don't trust that kid.”

“Well, to coin a phrase,
duh
.” Really good sandwich.

“You don't trust him, either?” he demanded.

“I don't trust
any
boy who looks at Thea like he does,” I told him, though secretly I thought maybe I distrusted Jett a little more than average.

“Okay, yeah, but the kid's a thug,” Logan pointed out, waving his sandwich to make a point.

Sugar's head moved back and forth right under him, hoping for a spill. She was disappointed.

I handed her a piece of chicken, which disappeared so fast she made David Copperfield look like an amateur. Then I had more wine. The dry red went down great, and I could feel a buzz already starting to build inside. Good. I could use a buzz.

We talked for a while, finishing off the sandwiches and making a hell of a dent in the wine. By the time dinner was over, we were both leaning back into the couch cushions and I was feeding that buzz, hoping for more.

“So,” Logan said, “we're finally alone, with a chance to talk.”

“Talk about what?” I topped off my wine and took another thirsty gulp.

“You. Me. Us.”

I already had both him and Devlin on my mind. I
so
wasn't in the mood to talk about it all.

“No, no and, um…no.”

He sighed and set his glass down onto the table before leaning toward me. “Cassie, I don't like you seeing this Cole guy.”

“You agreed not to talk about him.”

“I lied.”

“Well, you don't get a vote.” I set my wine on the table, knowing suddenly that I didn't need more buzz.

Logan scowled at me. “His place, Magic Nights, is a magnet for trouble. We're getting called out there all the damn time.”

“That doesn't mean anything. It's a hot spot,” I told him. “People all over California want to get in there. There's bound to be a little trouble occasionally.”

“It's a sex club.”

“Not technically.”

“Now you're defending him.”

Was I? That was weird, because at the moment, Devlin wasn't high on my favorite ten people in the world list.

“What's going on, Cassie?” Logan asked, leaning in close enough to give me a small burst of heat that zapped through me like a live electrical wire jumping on wet cement.

Oh man. I really was a slut. Sleeping with demons then getting turned on because my ex leaned in a little close. The problem was, I'd actually had a few orgasms now, and I think my body was just so damn excited it wanted more. Well, it could just suffer. No way was I going to be having sex with two different guys at the same time.

Oooh. A mental image leaped up into my fevered brain, and for one amazingly erotic minute, I enjoyed the picture of a me sandwich, my body layered between Logan's and Devlin's.

Suddenly desperately dry mouthed, I lurched for my wine and gave myself a mental head slap.
Bad Cassidy!

“Something strange is happening around here, Cassie,” Logan said, his gaze spearing into mine. “How about you tell me what's going on?”

S
o I did.

I told him everything.

Outside the house, it was dark, streetlights shining like bowls of light in the black. It looked like night was an entity, alive, threatening and pressing
deliberately
against my window, but that could have been just an effect of the wine.

Logan watched me as I talked, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Guess he was wearing his “cop face,” as good as a poker expression.

In between sips of wine, I told him all about the demons living in La Sombra, the junior demon his daughter was dating and the fact that
I
was some kind of superhero.

“A Demon Duster,” he said, his voice wry, his expression suddenly completely skeptical.

“Yep. That's me. Super Cass.”

“Uh-huh.” He lapsed into silence again, and I kept right on talking, in between sips of wine.

I told him about Devlin (not about the sex, just the demon part—I'm not a complete idiot), I told him about Jasmine and the demon spray that apparently also cleaned ghosts out of haunted houses, and I told him that Carmen knew about the ghosts and demons before even I had.

“Carmen knows, too.”

“Yes. Totally.” I took a drink of wine, swallowed and said, “So it's not just me talking here.”

“Right.”

Then I told him about Judge Jenks being the top demon in town. That's when Logan choked on the wine, burbling it down the front of his shirt as he gasped for air.

When I finally wound down, I felt like I'd been to confession, something I hadn't done since I was in sixth grade and confessed to cheating on a test and the priest told my dad. For God's sake, the confessional was
supposed
to be private. Was it any wonder I now considered myself Catholic-lite? But I digress again.

I watched Logan as he used a napkin to blot at the wine soaking into his shirt, and silently waited for his reaction.

Didn't take long.

Logan laughed so loud and for so long, he scared the hell out of Sugar, who bolted for the kitchen, forgetting all about the prospect of snacks. Glaring at him, I drank the rest of my wine and wished for more.

Finally, he caught his breath and, shaking his head, looked at me like I was a loon. “Christ, Cassie, that's the dumbest pile of shit I've ever heard.”

“You asked,” I reminded him.

“Uh-huh.” Still chuckling, he leaned back into the couch and dropped a friendly hand onto my knee. Only I wasn't feeling real friendly anymore. He didn't seem to notice. “I loved the part about the judge. Judge Jenks goes too easy on the bad guys, sure, but he's no demon, for God's sake. There
are
no demons. If there
were,
why the hell would you go out with one, let alone allow Thea to date one?” He poured more wine. “God, if you're gonna tell lies at least make 'em believable.”

This
was what happened when you became known for creatively extending the truth from time to time. When you finally tell the absolute truth, nobody believes you!

“She's not dating,” I said. “She's spending time with this kid and staying either in a crowd or where I can see 'em at all times. Besides, Jett's a good demon. Like Devlin.”

“Right,” Logan said with a snort. “A good demon. Christ, you really are something else.”

“This is so typical,” I said, shaking my head. “You want the truth, and when I give it to you, you don't believe it because it's not the truth you wanted to hear.”

“Please. Truth?” Logan shifted on the couch and stroked his hand down my thigh. “Cassie, you're so used to lying you wouldn't know the truth if it bit you on the ass.”

“Very nice,” I said, trying to ignore the feel of his hand as it now slid up the inside of my thigh toward my own private Disneyland.

“Come on, Cassie,” he said, leaning in toward me, his eyes linked with mine. “You don't really expect me to buy all of this, do you?”

Right then, I just wanted him to keep moving his hand closer to Zip-a-de-do-dah.

“Haven't you noticed?” I asked and inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed over the denim covering my leg. “All the weird stuff happening around here?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Rain of toads, for God's sake, Logan? When does that happen?”

He sighed and set his glass down onto the coffee table. His fingers moved a little bit closer to where I really wanted them. “A freak happening. That's all.”

“And the fires?”

“Some firebug getting his jollies. We'll catch him.”

“And the missing pets?”

He sighed. “You really believe all this crapola, don't you?”

Now, I didn't want to acknowledge it, but there was some definite heat getting stirred up inside me. A minute ago, I'd wanted Logan to touch me. Now I just wanted him gone. I absolutely refused to get turned on by a man who was so pissing me off. Grabbing his hand, I lifted it off me and tossed it at him.

He frowned. “If you're not interested, say so. You don't have to invent these fantasies about dashing demons and superpowers. At least be honest with me.”

“Hah!” I scooted back from him on the couch and stared at him in the lamplight. “I
am
being honest,” I said and reached out to slap my wineglass down onto the coffee table. “More honest than you were with me sixteen years ago.”

His expression froze over. “Excuse me?”

I pushed off the couch and jumped to my feet. It made me feel better to look down on him. As short as I am, I don't get the chance to look down at anybody very often. Pointing my finger at him, I reminded him, “You told me you loved me. You screwed my brains out that summer. Then you went off to college and found Dusty.”

“Misty.”

“Whatever.”

He stood up, too, and I lost my advantage.

“I
did
love you.”

“For three whole months? Gee, thanks. A love for the ages. So basically it was, ‘Great summer, good sex, good luck with the baby.'”

“I didn't
know
about the baby,” Logan shouted. “And, by the way, it was
great
sex.”

True.

“You would have found out all about Thea if you hadn't introduced me to Spiffy at your graduation.”

He wanted to correct me, like always, but didn't. Maybe I really did look as mad as I felt.

“I had it all planned,” I told him. “I was so sure you were still mine. In all the letters you wrote me from school, you never told me about that girl. Never told me you were even dating.”

God, we'd already had this argument. Why was I saying it all over again? It wouldn't change anything. Wouldn't make
us
turn out any differently. But somehow the hurt was still there, buried under sixteen years of denial, and I couldn't stop myself.

He pushed one hand through his hair and let his gaze shift away from mine. “I was a kid,” he muttered.

“You were older than
me,
” I reminded him. “
And
you weren't propping up your swollen ankles while your best friends were out shopping for prom gowns, either.” It still pissed me off that I'd had to buy my dress from Elephants-Are-Us. Not to mention I'd had to attend the dance with a pal instead of Logan, the would-be love of my life.

“You never said anything, either. In all of your letters about school and Rachel and every other damn thing going on in your life, you never
once
said anything about being
pregnant
.” His gaze locked into mine.

Yep. Same old argument. Nothing ever gets settled; we just take turns flaying each other alive. Good times.

“I didn't want you worrying about the baby while you were trying to graduate,” I muttered, thinking back on my martyred sixteen-year-old self.

“If I'd known,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper.

All the air left me in a rush. This was so pointless. We were having the fight we should have had sixteen years ago. Back then, it might have meant something. But now it was just too late.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” Logan said, and his voice was as soft as mine had been loud. Which, just so you know, was pretty damn loud.

“Well, now,” I said wryly, covering my pain with humor, “maybe that's why your marriage didn't work out, hmm?”

He reached out for me, but I was too damn tired for any more. I'd had wine and food and a big fight. Now all I wanted to do was lie down somewhere and wait for morning.

“You should go,” I said, taking a step back, just to make sure my hormones didn't take on a life of their own again. Apparently my body still wanted to respond to Logan even while my brain was telling me
Been there. Done that
.

“Cassie, this doesn't have to be the end.”

I smiled. “Logan, we ended sixteen years ago. You just didn't notice.”

 

“Santa Maria, Madre de Dios.”

The next morning, Carmen and I went to Magic Nights to clean, and Carmen's reaction was the same as it had been the first time. She just couldn't get over all the goodies up on the second floor. And, hey, who could? Watching the older woman's face as she opened the door to the Tarzan suite was priceless. If her eyes had bugged out any farther, they'd have been lying on her sharp-as-knives cheekbones.

“Right there with you,” I said and leaned in, peering over her shoulder. I knew Carmen was still stunned by the pseudo-rock walls and the vines hanging from the ceiling and the—Oh hell, by everything. But I had to admit, there was something about the room that made parts of me tingly.

Carmen clucked her tongue in disapproval and walked inside, gaze sweeping over everything. She scowled at the bear-skin rug and reached out to tug one of the “vines.” “This is a room made for sin.”

“Yep,” I said on a sigh and winced when she frowned at me. “Hey, I was just agreeing with you.”

“Pfft. You were wishing for someone to swing on the vines with,” she said, then got such a thoughtful look on her face I figured she was wishing the same thing. But, since I really didn't want to imagine a fifty-something Carmen swinging through the air with Tarzan, I shoved that thought out of my mind fast.

“Look,” I said, “why don't you start in here, and I'll head down the hall.”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “What room of sin will you start in?”

“I'm feeling like Camelot this morning,” I told her and caught the flash of interest in her eyes before she could hide it. Then I turned and left her to her mumbling and cleaning and headed down to the knight-in-shining-armor room.

Before I could open the door, though, I heard a sound, turned my head and spotted Devlin down the hall at the top of the stairs. He was watching me and, I swear, even from a distance, I could feel those dark eyes on me.

Oh boy. Clearly, finding out he was a demon hadn't done a thing to put out the fire in my hoo-hah. I could almost
feel
the heat pouring off him, and as he walked slowly down the hall toward me, I told myself that if I was smart, I'd turn around and ignore him.

Well, color me stupid.

“Good to see you,” he said when he was close enough.

“Yeah,” I said and swallowed hard. I had really tried to prepare myself for seeing him again. I took a cold shower that morning, and I was wearing my oldest jeans plus a dark blue sweatshirt with
CLEAN SWEEP
emblazoned across the chest and hadn't even bothered with makeup.

None of that deterred him.

He was still looking at me like I was a Slurpee and he a straw.

Oh boy.

“Um…Carmen and I should be done here in a couple of hours.”

He nodded, glanced over his shoulder at the open door from which the roar of a vacuum escaped, then took my arm and led me down the hall.

He smelled
really
good.

I smelled like the demon duster liquid, since I'd spritzed my whole damn body before stepping foot into Magic Nights. Cold shower, ugly clothes and, oh yeah, the demon spray. Needless to say, Devlin let me go pretty quickly and rubbed the tips of his fingers together as if to wipe off the traces of the liquid.

When we were far enough away from Carmen, he looked down at me and smiled as he took a whiff and wrinkled his nose. “You sprayed yourself today,” he said. “So, who're you afraid of? Me? Or you?”

“Ego check?” I quipped, though I really wasn't feeling quippable. (Yes, I know it's not a word.) “There are plenty of demons around here. Maybe I was just being careful.”