Demon Ex Machina: Tales of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom (3 page)

Eddie thumbed himself on his chest. “Rock solid,” he said, then held out his hand for her. She took it, leaning in next to him as he swung his arm around her shoulder and allowed her to help haul him to his feet. Dressed as they both were in head-to-toe black, I had to laugh. They looked like an advertisement for multi-generational ninja training, an image with added irony when you considered that they weren’t actually related, though neither Allie nor Stuart knew that.

And, the truth was, Eddie had truly become Gramps. No, he wasn’t Eric’s grandfather, like I’d told Stuart so many months ago before I’d settled the then-loopy and involuntarily medicated former Hunter in our guest room. But somewhere between then and now, the fiction had become our reality. Eddie was family. A fact evidenced most strongly by Stuart’s recent agreement to have his room wired for cable.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, lifting my hand up and down as I gestured to Eddie’s midnight black outfit. “But why are you here?”

I’d asked Eddie to join our little training mission, with both him and Allie playing the role of wandering demons to Stuart’s Hunter-in-training. He’d declined. Or, more accurately, he’d turned me down flat with a snort and a chuckle and the uniquely unhelpful comment that training Stuart was too little, too late, and if I was going to let my husband go out into the field, then I damn well better be training him to heel.

The sad part? I actually feared Eddie was right.

“Eh, Tammy’s cable’s down,” he said. “Decided to call it an early night and see how lawyer-boy’s training was going. Figured if you wanted me and the kid playing demon, it was the least I could do.”

“You left a date with your girlfriend because her cable was down?” I repeated.

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “Her DVD collection is crap.”

Stuart and I exchanged a glance, and I caught the ever-so subtle shake of his head. I exhaled, backing down from my instinctive response to challenge Eddie’s less-than-romantic approach to dating.

“We appreciate the help,” I said, “but I think we’re calling it a night.”

A snort of protest from Eddie underscored Allie’s anguished cry of, “But!” Even Stuart muttered protests.

Although I was probably being paranoid, I didn’t back down. I’d felt something out there that made the hair on the back of my neck prickle, something other than Eddie lumbering through the dark.

As Eric had recently reminded me before all hell broke loose, I’d developed a Hunter’s instincts over the years. Which meant that my vague sense of paranoia could very well be the minions of hell lining us all up in their sights.

I bit back a sigh, battle weary and tired, but knowing better than to ignore the inevitable. Something was brewing in San Diablo.

So what else was new?

I cocked my head vaguely in the direction of the parking lot. “Come on, guys. I’m serious. We’ll do this again next week.”

Stuart looked like he was going to join in the protests, but then he took one look at my face and nodded. “Good idea. I have some things I need to take care of tonight anyway.” I’m not sure if he saw the resolve in my eyes or if he was simply backing his wife. Either way, I appreciated it.

“Follow us home?” I asked. We’d arrived in separate cars, as Stuart had come straight from a dinner meeting.

“About an hour behind you,” he said. “I want to check something at the house.” He didn’t mean our house, and all of us standing there knew it. Our heads swiveled in unison to the western edge of the cemetery and the cliff face that led up to the Greatwater Mansion, now owned by Dorsey-Connor Development, though the down payment had been so minuscule, I think it was fair to say the bank owned the house more than my husband or his new business partner, Bernie Dorsey.

They’d owned the place for sixteen days now, the plan being that they’d fix it up, flip it, and make a huge profit. So far, they’d barely dipped their toes in the fix-it-up stage, and even Allie and I had been recruited to help with cleanup and basic upgrades.

Me. The woman who gets flat-head and Phillips screwdrivers confused.

Honestly, there are times when I think that Stuart
still
doesn’t know the woman he married.

The mansion had a checkered history, some colorful owners, and ties to the Golden Age of Hollywood. And though it had fallen onto serious hard times, the extent of the work required had ensured the price was right. Now the trick was to get it back in shape without spending so much money that it ate into the profit potential.

“Want to come?” he added.

Tempting, but I shook my head. “I want to get Timmy,” I said. “I’ll meet you at home.” I shot a glance at Eddie. “Need a lift?”

Eddie knows how to drive, but hasn’t bothered to renew his license. For a while, I’d been his exclusive chauffeur. Now Tammy had joined the party, and I appreciated the help. Tonight, though, I was guessing he’d taken a cab. His girlfriend hadn’t struck me as the pushover type.

“Heck no,” he said, waving toward Stuart. “I’m going with your boy. Want to see this shack you two keep chattering on about.”

“Can I come?” Allie said. “Please? It’s not a school night.”

“Fine by me,” Stuart said.

I hesitated, remembering that cold inkling of fear. But the truth was that in my life—in my world—fear had become part of the natural order of things.

“It’s okay, Mom,” my too-wise daughter said. “Go get the Timster. We’ll be fine.”

Stuart’s forehead creased. “Am I missing something? Your Spidey-sense tingling?”

I made a face. “No. I’m fine. I’m just—”

“Being a mom,” Allie said, with one of her patented eye rolls. She turned to Eddie. “
This
is why I’m never gonna get a learner’s permit. She’s terrified the world’s gonna come crashing down or something once I’m behind the wheel of a car.”

“Or something,” I confirmed.

Eddie grunted, then leaned over and scooped up Allie’s dagger from where it had fallen to the ground. He handed it to Allie, who slid it easily into the holster at her back. Then he closed his hand over the hilt of his own knife and met my eye. “We’re good,” said the octogenarian Dirty Harry.

I cast a quick glance toward Stuart, who nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said, deadpan. “I got their backs.”

I suppressed a grin. “Well, okay then. I’ll see you guys at home. Don’t stay there all night peeling old wallpaper or something.”

“And don’t you hang back to patrol,” Stuart said. “Get Timmy, go home, and get some rest.”

In the parking lot, I kissed Stuart and Allie, hugged Eddie, and then watched as they all piled into Stuart’s Infiniti. I hesitated, my mood melancholy, before climbing into the Odyssey and firing the engine. They drove out first, and I realized I was smiling. For a moment, I didn’t know why. And then it hit me: No matter how many times Stuart had told me he was adjusting to the knowledge of my formerly secret life, I hadn’t quite believed him.

Tonight, however, we’d been a family. A real family, albeit one that hangs out in cemeteries. But a family without secrets between us.

And damned if I didn’t like the way that felt.

“At least you know
he’s got good reflexes,” Laura said. “Oh, to have seen the look on his face.”

“He looked a little like he did when I told him I was pregnant with Timmy—terrified, surprised, and secretly proud of himself.” I reached for another muffin, smiling in earnest now. What had seemed serious in the cemetery now qualified as coffee-time gossip with my best friend. No one had been injured, Stuart had learned a lesson, and we had a great family story to tell around the table at Thanksgiving. At least on those years that Stuart’s parents didn’t join us.

“Seriously, though,” Laura said as she refilled both our mugs, “is he doing okay?”

“With which? Adjusting to his wife’s secret identity? Or learning to be sidekick boy?”

“Both.” She slid into the chair opposite me and took a long sip. “For that matter, how are you doing?”

“Under the circumstances, I’m doing just great.”

Laura lifted a brow, examining me over the rim of her coffee mug, obviously trying to decide if I was shooting straight or if I was shoving organic fertilizer her way.

“Okay, fine,” I said, copping to a little bit of fertilizer. “On the family front things are going really well, actually. Stuart’s demonstrating an excessive amount of togetherness, but it’s such a novelty that I’m not yet teetering on the brink of insanity. And Allie’s actually keeping her room clean and helping around the house.”

“Probably afraid that if she doesn’t, you’ll take away her dagger.”

“Whatever works,” I said. “Although I am a little concerned about her schoolwork.”

Laura nodded sympathetically. “I was afraid of that. Mindy said some things.”

Warning bells clanged in my head. “What kind of things?”

“What you’d expect. That Allie’s been distracted. Doing her homework, but not doing it well even though she’s spending a lot of time in the library.” She got up and pushed back from the table, then opened the cabinet above the sink—the one where she keeps the liquor. “Want something with more kick than caffeine?”

“Do I need it?”

“Probably not,” she said. “But I do. Hell of a day here, too.”

“Oh, hon,” I said, the sympathy in my voice real despite the fact that I was not interested in shifting from Allie’s problems to Laura’s. Not just yet.

Laura laughed, obviously reading my expression, then took down a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream, which happens to be one of my not-so-secret vices. “Don’t worry. It’s all about Kate until we’ve exhausted the subject or the bottle. Whichever comes first.”

“And then all about Laura,” I said, loyally.

“I’ll hold you to that.” She set the ice machine on her refrigerator door to serve crushed ice, filled two small glasses, then topped them both off with Baileys. About three times the expected serving size, but I wasn’t in the mood to complain. And considering the way Laura popped back half the glass, I figure she needed it.

“Doctor Hunk?” I asked, referring to the sexy emergency room doctor she’d been dating recently. She topped off the glass, which suggested to me that I was right, but waved the question away. “Allie,” she said firmly. “The problems of a fourteen-year-old outrank minor ripples in my love life.”

“Problems,” I repeated. Not that any of this came as a surprise to me. Not really. I could see how much work she was doing playing Hunter-in-training. And if I’d actually focused on the issue, I would have come to the rather rational conclusion that between Hunter training and sleeping and the inevitable vegging in front of the television, there simply weren’t enough hours in the day for her to be cramming schoolwork in there as well.

“Mindy can’t figure out what’s up with Allie,” Laura said. “That’s why she came to me, despite the more traditionally accepted teenage approach of parental avoidance. But she’s worried. And, honestly, I think she’s pissed off, too. No,” she corrected. “Not pissed. Hurt.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” Allie had spent hours in a near-fugue state as she tried to decide whether or not to tell Mindy about demons, Hunters, and the rest of it. And, yes, I know it’s all supposed to be secret, but I felt a little hypocritical requiring Allie to sign on to the vow of silence plan considering I’d pulled Laura into my confidence. As it turned out, though, she imposed her own closed-mouth policy. The deciding factor was Eric. With Laura and Paul in the midst of a rather acrimonious divorce, Allie decided that the last thing Mindy would want to hear was the news that Allie’s father had returned from the dead.

At the time, I’d considered it a remarkably mature decision, and one I really hadn’t believed Allie would stick to. After all, she and Mindy had been best friends for years.

But stick she had, and although I was proud of my daughter’s ability to keep a secret, I had to concede that there were serious flaws in my daughter’s vow of silence. “It’s still her decision to make, though,” I said, after confessing as much to Laura.

“I know,” she said. “And whatever Allie decides to do about Mindy is fine. But the schoolwork’s still a problem, Kate. Finals are coming up, and even though they’re only freshman, we’ve got to start thinking about college and scholarships and all that stuff.”

I nodded. Now that Paul had walked out, financial woes plagued Laura as much as demons plagued me. Because despite a rock-solid attorney and good community-property laws, Laura was still going to be pinching pennies. Apparently Paul had run their finances deep into the red. Laura would get her share of the pie, but the big revelation throughout the process had been the discovery that what she’d believed to be fancy Boston cream pie had turned out to be not much more than those little apple confections from McDonald’s.

The lesson? Everyone lies. Not just Demon Hunters.

“Mindy’s going to get loads of scholarships,” I said, both loyally and truthfully. The kid earned straight-As and still managed to participate in various extracurricular activities. In other words, exactly the kind of kid Allie was not. “She’s going to be fine.”