Authors: Julie Kenner

Demon 04 - Deja Demon (39 page)

BOOK: Demon 04 - Deja Demon

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“I debated whether to tell you,” he admitted. “But you have the right to know. And, truly, does this knowledge change anything?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I am not,” he said. “Katherine, child, I have seen you and Eric together, and even now I hear the love in your voice when you speak of him. Is your life not already intertwined with his? Are you not forever linked with Eric, body and soul?”

I swallowed, closing my eyes as the truth of his words washed over me. “Father,” I said. “Sometimes, I think you see too much.”

"Goramesh?” Allie said,
after I relayed what Dukkar had told me in the cathedral courtyard. “Wow.” She made a face, probably remembering the last time she’d been up close and personal with Goramesh and his minions. Not exactly the best summer on record for either her or for Timmy.

“I wanted to bring you up to speed,” I said, which wasn’t entirely accurate since I’d mentioned nothing to her about my conversation with Father Corletti. “You need all the information you can get if you’re going to burn through the research and help me find answers.”

“You’re still going to let me help?” she asked, her voice small.

“Do you want to?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then yeah,” I said. “You can help. Maybe you can figure out why Abaddon’s minions are worried about the sword when it’s Goramesh who can be struck down by it.”

She took the sword off the bed where I’d laid it and hefted it in two hands. “Doesn’t look like anything special,” she said.

“Mystical things often don’t.”

“Right,” she said. “Okay, so let’s think.” She crossed to her desk and came back with a spiral notebook filled with pink paper. “Clues,” she said, then started writing and talking at the same time.

I tucked my leg under me and looked over her shoulder as she wrote.

“Vengeance meets revenge,” she said.

“Goramesh and Abaddon,” I said, the reference clear now that we knew that these two high demons were hanging around San Diablo.

“So what is The One?”

“A higher demon they’re trying to conjure?” I suggested.

“Like a trapped demon they’re trying to release?” Allie said, obviously calling on her own practical demon-hunting experience.

“Maybe,” I said. To be honest, I really wasn’t sure.

“At any rate, it’s a clue. So it stays on the sheet.”

“The thing the gypsy lady said,” I continued. “ ‘In the shadow of the Lord.’ ”

“Right,” Allie said, dutifully writing it down. “And the bit about the hallowed eve when the sanctified blood flowed. Oh! And the nighttime. What was it? When day turns into night?”

" ’Falls into,’ ” I corrected.
" ’And one shall augment the other,’”
I said, closing my eyes to aid my memory.
“ ‘And the prophecy shall be no more
.’ ”

“What does
that
mean? You can’t kill Goramesh after all?”

“Or maybe it means that’s when I do kill him.”

She looked at me, eyes eager. “I like that idea.”

“Honestly, so do I.”

“So can you think of anything else?”

I shook my head. “I think you’ve got it covered.” I slid off the bed and headed for her door.

“Mom?”

“What, baby?”

“I’m sorry.” She licked her lips, then looked down at her feet. “I knew I shouldn’t go—not just to Daddy’s, but patrolling and all that, too. But I really wanted—”

“Your dad,” I finished. “I know, baby. You’re not the only one who’s sorry. I should have moved heaven and earth to get you guys time together. Forgive me?”

Her eyes widened a little with surprise. “Sure.”

“Good.”

“I love you, Mom. You really are the best, you know?”

I smiled, my throat tickly with tears. “I don’t know about that,” I said. “But I try.” Right then, in fact, I was going to try a little harder.

I blew her a kiss and left her to her research. Then I went downstairs, drew in a breath, and picked up the phone. David answered on the first ring, not with a hello, but with an apology.

“No,” I said. “That’s my line. I should have listened from the beginning and let you and Allie have your time together. I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I was afraid and making excuses for pulling away. But I can’t. I’ll never be able to pull away from you. We have to figure out a way to make this work.

“You were afraid?” he repeated. “Of me?”

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” I tilted my head back, trying to order my thoughts. “Of us. Of my life. Of what was going to happen to it now that you’re back. But I ended up hurting you and Allie, and I’m sorry.”

“I should never have taken her out,” he said.

“Well, I’m not going to argue about
that
,” I said, and when he laughed, I knew we were back on track. “More’s happened,” I said, then filled him in on my visit from Dukkar at the cathedral.

“You have the sword now?”

“Yup.” I’d left it in Allie’s room, but I figured it was safe up there. At the very least, Stuart wouldn’t find it, as he considered her room a public health hazard and only entered in full hazmat gear. “And apparently it’s Goramesh I’m destined to bring down. Not Abaddon.”

He whistled. “Do you think Goramesh knew about this before? When he came to San Diablo for the Lazarus Bones?”

“I’m thinking not,” I said. “I ran into my share of minions then, and none mentioned a sword.”

“That could be a good research angle, then,” he said, slipping into academic mode. “It’s only been a few months. Research where Goramesh has turned up since you defeated him, and maybe we can find a clue as to what he’s up to. And see if his whereabouts intersect Abaddon’s.”

“That’s the best plan I’ve heard so far,” I said. “You game for playing research dude?”

“Absolutely.”

I waited a beat, thinking about my words before saying them. “And do you want overnight company to help you out?”

“Love it, but wouldn’t Stuart be a little irritated if you spent the night with another man?”

“Not me,” I said. “Allie.”

Silence.

“Eric? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I’d love some overnight help.”

“We’ll be over in an hour,” I said. “I’ll tell Stuart she’s staying over at a friend’s. And David? Let’s forgo the patrolling, okay?”

“Lesson learned,” he said. “This is an inside visit only. And Kate?” he added, his voice filled with both relief and sadness. “Thank you.”

With Allie at Mindy’s
that night (or so the story went), Stuart and I spent the evening cuddled on the couch with our little boy, indulging him with a bowl of popcorn and the full-length
Curious George
movie. A toddler’s idea of heaven. And, I have to admit, being curled up in my husband’s arms wasn’t bad, either.

“Bernie and I are going to talk to a few lenders next week about financing the house,” he said at one point, drawing a dirty look from Timmy. “You’re still okay with it?” he finished, in a much-lower voice.

“I trust you,” I assured him. “If you tell me we can make it work, then I’m all for giving it a shot.”

“Financially, I think we’ll be okay. Can we handle the rest of it? You and me, I mean,” he said, examining my face. “Real estate isn’t exactly a low-stress hobby.”

“We’ll muddle through,” I assured him.

“I love you, you know,” he said.

“I know.” I snuggled closer. “I love you, too.” I drew in a breath, remembering my assurance to Laura that I was going to tell Stuart everything on Wednesday night. And here Wednesday was, and I wasn’t talking.

I needed to open my mouth and confess. I knew that. But somehow, the words wouldn’t come. It had been—to put it mildly—one hell of a week, and everywhere I turned, I saw demons. Everywhere, that is, except Stuart. With him, I saw only my life and my house and a normal evening in suburbia.

Sue me, but I didn’t want to give that up.

Tomorrow pressed down on me, demanding confessions and truths. But right then . . .

Right then, I wanted the fantasy.

So I spent the evening with two of the men in my life, snuggling and being silly, even while my mind whirred, wondering how all the clues fit together, fearing another demon would burst in to try and take the sword, and feeling an utter sense of helplessness because I had no idea what Goramesh and Abaddon were up to. Or, for that matter, when.

I kept the worries and fears hidden in the night, but they came out to haunt me in restless dreams, and I tossed and turned so much that Stuart woke me twice to pull me close and murmur soft words.

I woke up in the morning to a relatively empty house—me and Timmy and a note from Eddie that he was catching a lift from Stuart to the library. A rare treat in my world, but today the silence weighed on me, reminding me of the answers I didn’t have and the anger that was still approaching.

I called David, and felt a little lump form in my throat when both he and Allie thanked me for arranging the overnighter. They hadn’t found any answers yet, but Father Ben had messengered them over a box of books, and they were settling down in front of the table right then.

“I can send Allie home if you want,” David said. “Or I can keep her here today and drop her by after dinner. I’ll even drop her at Laura’s if that will make your cover story more plausible.”

“Sure,” I said, feeling foolishly left out, but not really knowing what to do about that. We weren’t a threesome anymore, and no matter how sad that made me, I had my trade-offs.

“Like you,” I said to Timmy as I scooped him up and carried him outside. I watched him play like a wild thing, even throwing a ball for him to kick and chase, and getting down on hands and knees with him to draw giant chalk pictures on the back patio.

“I love you, Mommy,” he said at one point, tossing his chubby arms around my neck.

I pulled him close, smothering him with hugs and kisses. “I love you, too, buddy.” And more than anything, I wanted to keep him safe. I didn’t know how, though, and answers weren’t coming my way, even with my team of crack researchers burning up the books and the Internet.

There I was—a big fat prophecy hanging around my neck—and I didn’t have a single idea what to do about that.

Not one of my more stellar moments.

“Have you talked to Father Ben today?” Laura asked me when she came over for coffee and Easter egg stuffing after lunch.

“I talked to him yesterday,” I admitted, “after I left your place. But we didn’t talk about research. I tried to reach him today, but no answer. I’m wondering if he had to go back out to the desert to help Holy Trinity with their Easter preparations. His cell never seems to work when he’s out there.”

“Maybe,” Laura said. “But it probably means you can’t count on him for much in the way of research.”

“During Holy Week, there wasn’t much he could do anyway. He was pretty booked twenty-four-seven. Besides, isn’t that why I’ve got you and Allie and David?”

She tilted her head looking at me. “Father Ben helped, huh?”

“Good call,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

“It’s been a hell of a week for you, hasn’t it?”

“The roughest in memory,” I admitted.

“In that case, I think we should uncork a bottle of merlot. We deserve it.” She looked at the tabletop littered with confetti, tissue, and hollowed-out eggshells. “We
definitely
deserve it.”

She got up and grabbed a bottle from our wine rack. “I’ll uncork it, since you’re at a disadvantage with your grievous injury.”

“Actually, it’s kind of handy,” I admitted, waggling the splinted finger. “I could imbed a small knife in there and it could be part of my standard patrol kit. Maybe even fix a hose with a bottle of water strapped under my arm. Squeeze my armpit and squirt holy water on my victim.”

From there, we elaborated on practical demon-hunting gear. Water balloons filled with holy water. Stilettos hidden in Victoria’s Secret underwires. The possibilities were endless.

By the time Stuart came home we’d filled four dozen egg cartons and discussed everything from the impending demise of San Diablo to how the fashionable Demon Hunter dresses for success.

I looked up, smiling at my husband, and realizing that my mood was better than it had been in days.

“You look chipper.”

“Hanging out with my best friend and my little boy,” I said. “What’s not to love?”

As Laura said good-bye and headed out, Timmy ran in and gave his Daddy a hug, decked out only in his underpants. Stuart swung him around, then clutched him tight, these two men who shared the bond of family. Of blood.

I smiled, still feeling a little sappy and sentimental.

“Shouldn’t he be dressed by now?” Stuart asked, bursting my bubble of sentimentality. “For that matter, shouldn’t you?”

BOOK: Demon 04 - Deja Demon

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