A Fiend in Need Read online

  “Hey, I deserve some kind of reward here.”

  “On Harlan’s front yard?”

  “Wherever I can get it.”

  “He’s watching!”

  “He’s old. He can’t see anything.”

  “Get a room somewhere!” Harlan shouted.

  Logan muttered something but tried to slide his hand back up the inside of my thigh anyway. Then Sugar decided this was all too much for her and tried to run back home. Too bad the leash was still around Logan’s leg.

  He was grappling with the dog, and the dog was howling, and Harlan Cates was still shouting from his doorstep, and Brady and Thea were chanting in my backyard, so ask me how I heard the kid crying?

  I don’t know. Duster ears? Did the little charge I got from Brady give me Superman hearing? Would my ears grow? God, I hoped not. I stood up and looked around, and it took me a minute to follow the sound of the soft sobbing. But finally I spotted the little girl.

  Across the street she was sitting on the curb. The yellow fog lamp shone down on her, spotlighting her in the mist. She had her arms crossed on her knees and her forehead on her arms and she was crying, her long blond hair hanging down on either side of her head.

  Oh, man…

  I left Logan with Sugar and ran toward the girl, trying to figure out who she was and how she’d gotten there. I mean, I knew everyone on my street and she didn’t live here. So what was she doing out all by herself with the fog coming in?

  “Cassie, damn it, wait for me!” Logan called out, but I didn’t pay any attention. I was working in pure mother mode. It’s involuntary. Once your uterus has produced a child, you’re forever stuck in the land of answering the call of a kid in need. I don’t know how it happens; I just go with it.

  “Hey, honey,” I cooed, slowing down so I wouldn’t startle the kid by running at her full-bore. “Are you okay? Where’s your mom?”

  She sniffled a little louder, and my uterus twisted in response.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her, getting closer. “Everything’ll be okay.”

  “It will be,” the little girl answered in a voice that was way too deep for her size, “as soon as I’m finished with you.”

  Yikes.

  Goose bumps raced along my spine, and my throat snapped shut.

  The little girl lifted her head, and I backpedaled as fast as I could. Her eyes were slanted upward at the edges and glowing a deep, violent red. Her fangs dripped out of her mouth and brushed the bottom of her pointy chin.

  She leaped up and stood about three feet tall in her tiny Winnie the Pooh sneakers. She lifted both hands, and the tips of her fingers grew. I am not shitting you—her fingers grew! They curved out and down until they looked like a picture I saw once of this ancient Chinese guy whose fingernails were, like, a mile and a half long.

  Ew.

  “Cassie!” Logan shouted.

  “Ahoooooooooo,” Sugar howled.

  “I called the cops!” Harlan shrieked.

  It’d be nice if he had, but Harlan was all talk, no show. Besides, even if he had called the cops, they wouldn’t come. They didn’t like him any more than I did.

  “The money’s all mine now, Duster,” the weird-ass little girl promised.

  That damned Web site again. Even when Vanessa wasn’t around, she was trying to have me killed!

  “Have to get me first,” I taunted, and points for me. I was shaking in my tennies. My tremors had tremors, and a cold sweat was breaking out down my spine. Now we all know how I feel about sweating, so this was not a good experience!

  I got in my (ha!) fighting stance and looked like a poor imitation of Buffy. Perception is everything, though, and I figured that if this midget demon thought I wasn’t scared, maybe she’d back off.

  Nope.

  She flew at me.

  And by flew, I don’t mean she ran really fast. I mean she freaking flew. That’s right. Flying midget demon, looking like a second grader from Hell. Somewhere in the back of my mind I put it all together, which was pretty impressive, considering I was terrified!

  Yikes!

  Pixie!

  I have to say, Jasmine was right about them. They were nasty little troll-like creatures!

  I ducked as she sailed over my head, and then I turned to watch her bank like a helicopter to come at me again. Man, even scared, I remember thinking, What a cool power to have. I’d fly everywhere. No more traffic jams. No more worrying about keeping my Bug in working order. I could fly Thea and me to Europe, though I’d probably need a rest halfway there.

  The Pixie from Hell flew right for me again, all fangy and long fingers, and I braced myself for what I hoped would be a really lucky dusting.

  She screamed bloody murder, her mouth hanging open, drool sliding off her fangs. Her hands were outstretched, her tiny feet kicking in the air as if she were swimming or something, and as she swooped in low I ducked a little, jolted my right hand up and grabbed that nasty Pixie heart right out of her chest.

  The freaking thing exploded into dust overhead, and I was instantly covered in Pixie dust.

  Not in a happy way.

  “What the hell was that?” Logan said as he ran up, gun drawn, hobbling from the groin smash Sugar’d delivered.

  “I think a Pixie,” I said, and brushed at the dust covering my sweatshirt. I was going to have to boil it. Or burn it. Or buy a new one. The dust in my hair was already itching and really creeping me out. God, I needed a shower.

  And cookies.

  Can’t even take a walk on a nice fall night, I thought, and felt the sting of tears in my eyes. Damn it. I hated crying. I never looked good crying. I got all red and splotchy, and my eyes swelled up like I’d been punched in the face.

  I blinked the tears back and told myself to call off the pity party. Better to be pissed off than weepy. I look good when I’m pissed.

  “That’s it,” I said to nobody in particular, heading toward Sugar, who was trying to curl up into a ball small enough to actually make herself disappear. “Tonight’s little walk is over.”

  “That was a Pixie?” Logan said from behind me. “Pixies are real too? I thought Pixies were supposed to be cute! That thing wasn’t cute. That thing was…Pixies are demons?”

  “Isn’t everything?” I muttered, and grabbed up Sugar’s leash. “Come on, baby; no more nasty exercise tonight.”

  My dog was almost as relieved as I was. Quivering and panting, Sugar trotted at my side. Harlan had given up once we got off his precious grass, and now his front door was closed. He was probably hiding behind his drapes, watching me, but damned if I could find it in me to care.

  I could hear Brady and Thea still chanting in the backyard. Apparently hearing me scream and fighting for my life wasn’t distracting enough to tear them away from cheerleader practice.

  “This is nuts, Cassie,” Logan said from right behind me. “These damn things are all over, everywhere.”

  “Welcome to my world,” I said, and stopped dead when I spotted a shadow standing alongside the back fence, looking into my yard. At my kid.

  Crap.

  I’d had enough. There was disintegrating Pixie in my hair, grass stains on my back, a traumatized dog drooling on me and a pissed-off cop yammering in my ear. I did not have the patience for any more demons that night. It was one thing for them to come after me, but no way was I going to let some drooly, hairy, ugly-ass critter peek in at Thea while she was learning her cheerleader routine, trying to be normal!

  I shoved Sugar’s leash into Logan’s hand and stomped up the driveway like Frankenstein’s mama. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing?”

  The shadow jumped, leaped backward and landed in a splash of light. Not a demon—as far as I could tell without my spray. But her eyes didn’t glow and she didn’t drool or spit on me, so I was going with not a demon.

  A teenage girl (which, okay, could give a demon a run for its money at times) looked up at me through too-long brown bangs hanging over her eyes.

>   “Hi, Ms. Burke!” (Perky, perky, perky!) “I’m, uh, Elle, uh, you know, a friend of Thea’s from school and, uh, I was, uh, like, walking and stuff, you know, and, uh, heard her working out and, uh, thought I’d wish her, you know, good luck at tryouts and, you know, uh, then I figured I shouldn’t, you know, uh, interrupt and stuff, uh, so I, you know, was, uh, quiet and stuff, so I, uh, wouldn’t bother her, you know, and stuff.”

  My eyeballs were spinning by the time she got to the end of her oh-so-eloquent speech. Plus, I was, uh, you know, out of patience and stuff.

  “Right,” I said, holding up one hand to prevent her from ever trying to speak again. “I’ll tell Thea you stopped by.”

  Her eyes got big and round (what I could see of ’em behind the bangs, anyway). “Uh, okay, you know, if you think, you know, you should and stuff…”

  “Go,” I said, pointing to the end of the driveway. “Fly free, little Elle.”

  Saying her name made me think of Elves. Now I knew there were Pixies and Faeries. Were there Elves, too? Did they look like Orlando Bloom? Were they nicer than Pixies? Would I care as long as they looked like Orlando Bloom?

  “Okay, uh, you know, bye,” she said, and bolted down the driveway.

  “And stuff,” I added, gratefully watching her go. Man, all it really took to appreciate your own teenager was having to talk to another one for a minute or two.

  “Was she speaking English?” Logan wanted to know.

  “A derivative,” I said. “Teenglish.” (It is a word. I just made it up.)

  “Cassie…” His voice dropped, and I knew he was through talking about demons and weird teenagers. He was ready to get back to that interrupted kiss. Apparently his groin smash had healed and his Mr. Happy was feeling hopeful again.

  I looked at him, and even though something inside me was wanting the same thing, I was just too tired to think about it at the moment. Who would have guessed it was possible? Too tired to think about orgasms?

  “Logan, no more tonight.” I sighed and leaned against the fence. “Just go home, okay?”

  He smiled, and that something inside me bubbled and frothed. “I could change your mind, you know.”

  Boy howdy, he could.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, and had to admit that Logan had come through. He was new to the whole demon thing, but he’d taken it really well and still wanted me. So maybe he was seeing the person I was now and not just the sixteen-year-old girl who’d adored him. But either way, I was so tired all I wanted to do was sit down in the dark.

  So I told my hoo-hah to go to sleep and stop with the tingling. It wasn’t going to be seeing any action that night. “I’m just too wiped, Logan.”

  He nodded, rocked back on his heels and said, “Okay, if that’s what you want I’ll go. For now.”

  The “for now” told me he wasn’t going anywhere.

  And the tingle in my hoo-hah, not to mention my heart, told me that at least parts of me were happy to hear it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  There’s a lot to be said for routine. Sure, it can start to look like a rut if you’re in the damn thing too long, but after a couple of weeks of demon fighting and Faery rescuing, a routine looked pretty good to me.

  For a few days that was just what I had. It was like we were in the eye of a hurricane. Everything was still. Quiet. Uneventful. Thea did the school thing, Brady did the cooking thing, Jasmine did the rolling-her-eyes-at-my-pitiful-attempts-at-training thing and I did the have-a-life thing. Everyone was happy.

  Well, Logan wasn’t happy, and I don’t think Devlin was in a whoopee state of mind. But I couldn’t worry about the two of them. Let them find their own routines.

  Of course, eyes in the hurricane never stick around forever. Eventually the winds pick up, rain slaps you in the face and before you know it you’re like the Wicked Witch of the East, with only your feet sticking out from under a house.

  (Hey, hurricane/tornado…same diff.)

  I stumbled into the house after cleaning old Mrs. Gomez’s house (she has four cats, and you sooo don’t want to know the rest of that story). Once a month I went into that house a normal (semi normal) human being and came back out again a changed woman. If I ever own that many cats, somebody shoot me.

  At any rate, I was tired, crabby and spitting cat hair like you wouldn’t believe—I swear, all four of those animals wait until I arrive to shed enough hair to build three more cats. It was in my lungs, up my nose, in my hair and all over my clothes. I smelled like demon spray and litter box, and all I wanted was a huge glass of white wine, a big dinner and a good dream.

  Was that too much to ask?

  Must have been. Because what I got was Jasmine.

  “The news isn’t good, Cassidy,” she said, like I’d expected her to tell me I’d just won Publishers Clearing House or something. The woman never had good news. What? I should be surprised?

  “Shock, gasp,” I said, rummaging in the fridge for the wine. With wine all things were survivable. Since Brady’d been there, we actually had stuff in the refrigerator. Edible stuff. Which was great, but made the wine hunt that much more complicated.

  “This is serious,” Jasmine said in her stern, will-you-please-pay-attention voice.

  “Aha!” Triumphant, I stood up and held the chilled bottle aloft. When I noticed my gray-haired nemesis wasn’t sharing the joy, I sighed. “When isn’t it serious, Jasmine?”

  “I will get you a glass,” Brady said, snagging the bottle from my hand.

  Jasmine’s beady blue eyes followed Brady for a sec, then shifted back to me. “I need to speak to you, alone, about something terribly important.”

  Brady stopped and looked at her. “Vanessa?”

  Jasmine didn’t want to answer, but did anyway. She loved having the stage. “Yes.”

  “Well, then,” I said, slumping down into a kitchen chair. “No point in keeping it a secret from Brady.”

  This clearly frosted Jasmine’s cookies. “In case you’ve forgotten, he tried to seduce you into giving up your powers.”

  I glanced at him and he smiled. “Yeah,” I said, “but he didn’t actually do it.”

  Jasmine sucked in air through gritted teeth, and I thought I heard her say, “Give me strength.”

  Who did demons pray to, anyway? A question for the ages. But not one for now. I accepted the glass of wine from Brady and took a long, grateful sip. Then I fished a cat hair out of the wine. Yeesh.

  Thea and Sugar came in the back door, and I watched Jasmine’s frown deepen.

  “Hi, Mom,” Thea said, then looked at Brady. “You ready to practice?”

  Sugar came running over to greet me; then, with a look of horror on her hair-covered face, she changed her mind, dropped and skidded on her butt, and slammed into the wall to avoid touching me in any way. This happened every time I cleaned Mrs. Gomez’s house. Sugar did not like the smell of cat. And she always managed to look at me as if I’d cheated on her or something.

  “Relax,” I assured her. “The smell will go away.” Please, God.

  “Your mother and Jasmine and I must speak first, Thea,” Brady said solemnly.

  “Is this about the queen?” Thea asked.

  “Yep,” I said, taking another sip and letting the cold, tart liquid slide down my throat. I pulled a cat hair from my mouth and flicked it onto the floor. Sugar shivered.

  “Perhaps this would be best done somewhere else,” Jasmine repeated, giving me the hairy eyeball.

  “Give it up, Jasmine,” I said, and slumped low in my seat, stretching my feet out in front of me. “Brady and Thea are in this too. They might as well know what’s going on.”

  “Of course we’re in this,” Thea said, and dropped into a chair beside Jasmine. “The demons are, like, everywhere all of a sudden, and on the queen’s Web site the reward for Mom is up to forty-five thousand dollars.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “Besides, I’m almost an adult. Didn’t I help Mom fight off that demon just yesterday?”
/>   True. Okay, my routine had had a couple of bumps in the road. Like the demon that had been hiding in my hydrangea bush when I got home from work the day before. I’d taken to wearing my demon spray hooked on a belt loop on my jeans, and felt pretty much like a gunslinger in an old Western movie. I was minding my own business when this tall, skinny demon unfolded himself from under the dead and or dying hydrangea and hissed at me.

  Now, I get that they’re demons, but is all the hissing really necessary? I mean think about it. Demon equals bad guy. We already know this. (Okay, not all of ’em are bad, but 99.999999999 percent are bad, so a little profiling really isn’t out of line.) So my point is, if we know you’re evil and everything, do you really need to hiss and snarl every time you show up? If you’re going to try to kill me, just do it already and spare me the theatrics! Jeez.

  So Tall and Skinny reached out one arm that had to be five feet long, and before I could even think about it, he plucked my demon spray bottle off and tossed it over his shoulder as if it were salt and he were making a wish.

  I just stood there like a big dummy. Well, until he ran at me waving those bony arms as though he were thinking about actually touching me. And I’ve got to draw the line somewhere. My first Demon Duster instinct was to scream. Loudly. And jump back out of the demon’s reach. Then I wanted my spray. And a hammer.

  “This was too easy, Duster,” he muttered, and I told myself, You know, it really was. I had to start paying more attention to my surroundings.

  When one of his long-fingered, black-nailed hands grabbed at me, though, I erupted out of my fugue state. I started swinging, throwing feet and fists at whatever I could reach.

  It was hissing and spitting, and I was shrieking like a big girl and trying to stay one step ahead of it.

  All my screaming turned out to be a good thing. Thea had raced out of the house carrying an iron skillet (the new one Brady bought online). She’d clonked old Reptile Boy in the head, and while he was distracted, I ripped his heart out.

  Tag-team dusting.

  Makes a mom so proud.

  “She’s right,” I told Jasmine, with a smile for my daughter. No, I didn’t really want her involved in this dusting thing; it was hard enough to imagine that one day she’d be stuck with the gig on her own. But I had to give her credit: She had a hell of a backhand. “Thea did great yesterday, and since she’s going to have to deal with all this demon crapola at some point in her life, she might as well be in on it from the ground floor.”