More Than Fiends (26 page)

What if Devlin could do the same thing? What if he was hideously horned or fanged or bright blue or something?

Then his fingers drove higher, and I forgot about thinking. As long as he kept taking me on this ride, I didn't want to wonder what image he might be hiding.

So exactly what kind of Duster did that make me? One touch from my mysterious demon lover and I was ready to throw the job to the wind in the hopes of another orgasm?

Oh yeah.

“Next time you take on the judge,” he muttered, tearing his mouth from mine and lifting his head to look me square in the eye, “we do it together.”

“Right,” I said, wondering what the hell we were talking about. “Together.”

Then his tongue tangled with mine again, and his fingers pushed me over the edge of need and down that slippery slope to oblivion.

I
wasn't going to think about what happened with me and Devlin two days ago. Okay, fine. I was thinking about it a lot. Though a part of me still worried that maybe he was playing both sides of the demon/human fence, another part of me was delighted to let that worry go and shout woo-hoo! I've accepted that I have slut-puppy issues, and I've moved on. So should you.

All I'm going to say about that afternoon is, a double layer of condoms didn't slow Devlin down any. I only hoped his sperm weren't as energetic as he was.

Anyway, I'd made my challenge to the judge, and despite the fact that the demon had practically laughed me out of his courtroom, I felt I'd made my point. After all, he was down one bailiff, wasn't he?

Score one for the Duster. Right about now, I figured Judge Jenks was feeling pretty pissy. No more than me. The more I thought about what the bastard had already taken from me, the more determined I was to stand up to him and make him pay.

He'd had my mother killed. Growing up without a mom was hard. My dad had done his best, but he couldn't do the first-bra thing, or the period talk—Rachel's mom had stepped in and included me when she'd taken Rachel for her first training bra and box of tampons. God help us both, Dad had skipped the sex talk altogether. (Thinking back, maybe that's why he'd been so understanding when I told him about being pregnant with Thea. He'd probably half blamed himself.)

Of course, the real person to blame was Judge Jenks. Killing my mother had cheated us both out of the very relationship Thea and I shared now. I wasn't going to let that miserable demon get close to my baby girl. He'd taken all he was going to take from me.

On that cheerful thought, I had another glass of cold white wine and let my gaze sweep the crowded street. The party was in full swing. The multicolored strands of tiny Christmas lights were twinkling in the trees and hanging across the street like high-tech banners. Four tables were set up in the middle of the street, literally groaning under the mountain of food provided by all of the neighbors.

Needless to say, I was in Heaven.

U2 pounded from the stereo, and the kids made fun of any parents brave enough to try dancing in front of an audience. Between the wine and the brownies, though, I was content to hang on the fringes and watch everyone else.

Especially Thea and Jett.

I picked up a brownie, took a big bite and chewed while I watched the neighborhood party from the sidelines. With chocolate in hand and a wine chaser, the world was looking pretty good.

“I do not understand how you can eat as much as you do without weighing eight hundred pounds.”

Trust Jasmine to toss the first wet blanket.

I looked down at her. Man, it was good to be taller than
somebody
. “Metabolism,” I said around a second bite. “My dad said I got it from my mom. Must be all those Duster powers, huh?”

Jasmine gave one of those “Dear God, why did the Duster have to be you?” sighs and rolled her eyes. “Have you made a sweep of the surroundings?” she demanded.

“A sweep?” I took a sip of wine and choked down the brownie.

A sharp wind came up out of nowhere and was actually strong enough to ruffle a couple of Jasmine's gray curls. Amazing. I would have bet money it was plastic hair. “I know everyone here, Jasmine. There are no demons at this party.”

“There's me.”

Ah yes. I kept forgetting that. “Yeah,” I said around another bite, “but you're on
my
side.” At least, I was pretty sure she was. I thought about that for a minute. What the hell? I was sure.

“And there is another.”

I followed her pointy finger straight to where my darling daughter was smiling up at Spike-and-piercings Boy. “Okay, sure. There's one. But he's only half demon, and even you said that he was good.”

“I said
some
demons are good.”

“MY POINT,” I said, loudly enough to be heard over a classic Stones song just starting up on the stereo, “is that this is my day off.”

“Dusters don't get days off,” she said, sniffing. “Especially when they've been foolish enough to beard the lion in his den.”

“Oh, for chrissakes,” I whined. Yes,
whined
. I'd thought Devlin was pissed off about my little meeting with the judge. But he was nothing compared with Jasmine's fury when she found out about it. “There's no more room on the Guilt Train, so just pull the hell out of the station.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Now it was my turn to sigh, so I let her have a big one. “I only did what my mom would have done, didn't I?”

At the mention of my mother, Jasmine's shoulders actually
slumped
for the first time since I'd known her. Shaking her head, she said softly, “Cassidy, you must believe me. We never knew. Your grandmother and I. We had no idea your mother's death was anything more than a tragic accident.”

“I do believe you, so chill,” I said and gave her an awkward pat on the back.

Naturally, when I got home from Devlin's, Jasmine was there, feeding Sugar a cookie, the one way to make sure my dog loved her forever. I had faced her with the judge's boast, and just the look on her face had told me all I needed to know.

She hadn't been aware of this at all. Everyone had been in the dark about this, and I wasn't looking forward to Gram's next visit when I would have to tell her the whole truth. Hopefully, though, by then I would have done away with Jenks, and we could all go spit on his grave together. Nothing like a family outing.

“Hell, Jasmine, you should be glad I faced him down. Isn't that why you've been training me?”

Her bony shoulders snapped straight, and she moved quickly to stand right in front of me. Hands clasped at her waist so tightly her knuckles were white, she stared up into my eyes and gave me the same speech she'd been giving for the last two days. “Your training has just begun. You are in no way able or qualified to confront a demon like Judge Jenks. Perhaps in a year. Or two.”

“Two years?” I shook my head, bit into the brownie again and said, “Thea's being threatened
now
. No way am I going to wait.”

“You were fortunate to get out of there alive.”

Even more fortunate after I got back to Devlin's place, but that wasn't the point here.

“Yeah, yeah. I've already heard the speech. Look, I did what I had to do, and you know, Jasmine, you're just going to have to lighten up.”

“Excuse me?”

I glanced at her, then shifted my gaze back to where Rachel and Simon were boogying to “Brown Sugar.” Now there was a great old Stones hit. Smiling, I said, “I don't take orders well. Never have. I'm willing to train and rip out the hearts of demons—never thought I'd say that, much less
do
it—but don't try to stop me from protecting my daughter.”

Her mouth worked like she was chewing on words she really didn't want escaping. Fine by me. She wanted to chew words; I wanted another brownie. I stepped past her, heading for the table, when her voice stopped me.

“You're right.”

I whirled around so fast I sloshed some of my wine over the rim of the glass. Oops, needed a refill. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open like a moron, I gaped at her for a beat or two. “I'm
what
?”

“Right.”

“I'm right. Wow.” I grinned, slugged down the rest of my wine and toasted her with my empty glass. “God, I love hearing that. About what am I so right?”

“Your first duty is to your child,” Jasmine conceded. “Thea is vulnerable, it's true. But should you wish to confront the judge again, I would ask that you take me with you.”

“Ask? Wow. Didn't know you knew how.” Hmm. Devlin had said the same thing. Going to be quite the party. “I will,” I said, leaning over the table to grab another brownie. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

“Good.” Then she shook her head and muttered, “I will do a sweep of the area. Please. Don't allow me to interrupt. Continue to eat.”

So I did.

“That woman gives me the creeps,” Rachel said as she came up behind me. “Even if she is your Gram's friend.”

“She's okay,” I said, though it felt strange to be defending Jasmine. Still, I was beginning to think that maybe we were going to actually find a good working relationship. As long as, you know, she stopped giving me orders every ten seconds.

“Whatever,” Rachel muttered, dismissing Jasmine. “On a different subject…I swear I don't know why you don't make Thea stop hanging with that kid.”

“Because,” I said, now focusing my gaze on my daughter and the little demon looking at her like I looked at a brownie, “the minute I do that, she'll want him even more.”

Jett had one arm around Thea's shoulders, and it was all I could do to not go pluck it off and toss it in a trash can. I don't know about mothers of boys, but those of us with daughters are on hyperalert at all times. Of course, those skintight jeans and cute little crop tops she wore weren't helping me out any. Did she really have to be so pretty?

“True. God, kids'll kill you.” Rachel took a drink of her own wine, then waved the glass at a crowd of men standing in a circle laughing and talking. “Logan looks like he's having a good time.”

“Uh-huh.” I tore my gaze reluctantly from Thea and Jett to focus on Thea's dad for a minute. Logan had been Mr. Charm all evening. And trust me when I say Logan charming is something that is hard to stand against. For the last hour, he'd been ingratiating himself with the whole damn neighborhood. He'd joked around with Thea, glared at Jett and practically
ignored
me. What was up with that? Not that I cared or anything.

“Simon likes him.”

“Simon likes everybody.”

“I know. Irritating, isn't it?” Rachel laughed and nudged my shoulder. “That's why he and I make such a good team. He's a people person, and I'm a
kill
the people person. But enough about me—why don't you tell me why you invited Logan if you didn't want him here?”

I flicked her a quick glance. “Who says I don't want him here?”

“Please. What am I, blind?”

“Certainly not mute.”

“Oh, that's a good one.” Rachel took a sip of wine. “You've been avoiding him since he got here.”

“
He's
the one doing the avoiding,” I pointed out, although, fine, I'd done a little Logan ditching from time to time during the course of the party. Couldn't help it. I just didn't know how I felt about him. The old magic was there, for sure. Logan got anywhere near me, and I could feel the buzz of a chemical attraction shooting through me. But I was already involved with somebody else. I couldn't start up something with Logan at the same time. My brain might explode.

“Still haven't answered my question. Why's he here?”

I sighed and shifted my gaze from Logan, laughing with my neighbors, to Thea, smiling up at Jett. Hiding a shudder, I said, “Thea wanted him here.”

While I watched, the Fergusons' cat chased Sugar across our yard and into the street. The big dog's eyes were wide and horrified as she charged up to Thea for protection from the evil calico, knocking Thea into Jett. I laughed until Demon Boy's arms wrapped around my little girl and held on tight.

“Killer dog,” Rachel said, chuckling, then added, “Okay, now I understand why Logan's here. Still, I really wish you would have told me you were inviting him.”

The calico cat stalked off into the crowd, chin high, tail wagging in triumph as he left Sugar a quaking mass of nerves. “Why?”

“Well, let's just say things might get a little interesting.”

The tone of her voice caught my attention, and I turned to look at her. “Rachel, what did you do?”

She flipped her hair behind her shoulder, grinned and took another gulp of wine. Then her eyes went wide, and she pointed past me, still smiling. “That,” she said. “I did that.”

I turned around and felt my jaw drop. “Devlin?” I hissed out the word. “You invited
Devlin
and didn't tell me?”

Rachel shrugged. “Figured it was my only shot at meeting him.”

“You are dead. Totally dead.”

“Completely dead, then.”

“Oh yeah, as in, Ding Dong.”

“
Very
nice,” Rachel murmured, then held out her right hand and smiled as Devlin walked up to us. “Hi. You're Devlin Cole. I'm Rachel Cohen.”

His hand enveloped hers, and I was pretty sure I heard her sigh.

“Thank you for inviting me,” he said, then shifted his gaze to mine. “Hello, Cass.”

“Devlin. Rachel didn't tell me you were coming.” Otherwise I might have been wearing something other than a sweatshirt and jeans. And, gee, I might have even worn shoes. No. Wait. Probably not. But I sure as hell would have put on some makeup. Oh, best friend or not, she was going to have to pay for this.