Demons Prefer Blondes (10 page)

Squeaky, sensing the perusal, looked up. “Stop staring, buffoon, and get going.”

“I plan on it,” he grumbled. And the next business after the chest would be the assignment of a new familiar—preferably one whose voice didn’t grate on his eardrums.

“Plan on what?” Frankie asked, eyes glued to the tabloid in front of him. Flipping the page, he let out a loud chuckle. “Lucy, listen to this… ‘Child Compelled by Demon Eats Family Pet.’” More laughter erupted. “‘A ten-year-old boy from Jackson, Mississippi, grabbed Nibbles, the family guinea pig, and bit its head off.’” Frankie wrinkled his nose and cringed. “‘When questioned why he killed the pet, the little boy said, “The Golden Guy made me do it.”’ That’s crazy.”

“What’s the kid’s name? Ozzy Osbourne?” Gerardo asked, his head thrown back in laughter.

Rafael’s jaw twitched. They had no idea of the evil surrounding them… infecting them. The fact that they acted so glib regarding such a terrible incident irked him. “Human suffering is no laughing matter.”

“Human suffering?” Frankie asked, eyes wide in shock. “It’s entertainment. Most of it isn’t true.” He shook his head, mirth rolling from his smile. “I’m sure the kid didn’t really bite off a guinea pig’s head.”

Rafael narrowed his eyes into a scowl. “How do you know it isn’t?”

Frankie opened his mouth to speak, his eyes sparking.

“Frankie…” Lucy warned.

Frankie lowered his lids. “Fine, Lucy.”

Rafael shook his head. Impressive. Her commanding presence left him awed—again.

As she brushed a light-brown gooey substance onto her mother’s hair, Lucy flashed Rafael a gaze with just as much warning. It chilled him to the core. He didn’t like his reaction. He was through hemming and hawing. He’d go to the council now. Kalli was capable of protecting Lucy. She’d be in good hands.

“I have to leave for a few hours. I need to speak to the Fore—” He darted a gaze toward Lucy’s mother. Despite the bizarre ooze on her head, she sat tall and proud. He allowed his gaze to examine the younger woman. Like mother, like daughter. The only thing different besides their eyes was the effect Lucy had on him. Energy pulsed through him at the devious thought. He throbbed in a place he didn’t want to. His body tingled.

“Uhh… what I meant to say was I need to meet with my… ahh… boss.”

“Boss?” Lucy, although she tried—rather admirably—to control herself, snorted in laughter. She had a cute laugh, Rafael noted. And her voice, it melted him. More tempting than that of a siren who caused sailors trouble. Demons, every last one of them. Now he was affected all over again.

“Yes,” Kalli chimed in. “He has to present his report.” She pushed him toward the door. “Poor guy’s nervous as a cat in a rocking chair factory. Right?”

Rafael slanted his eyes into a penetrating glare. “Not on my life. I look forward to it.”

“I’m sure you do.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “Good luck, Mr. Deleon.”

His heart plummeted. What had he done now? Women! He stopped trying to understand them. He had a hard enough time with demonesses and an even harder time with mortal women. Throw in a half mortal/half sex demon and he was even more clueless. “Thank you, Miss Gregory.” He turned to Lucy’s mother. “Mrs. Gregory, it was lovely to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Deleon. I apologize that I confused you with the help. You’re a true gentleman.” She smiled. “We need more people like you in Connolly Park.”

“You’re welcome.” With that, he threw open the door and turned to Squeaky, motioning to him with his finger. “You. Come. Now.”

He would get this whole imp fiasco settled while he was at it, too.

Squeaky rolled his eyes as he pulled himself from Serah’s arms. “Someone needs a lesson in politeness.”

“Or humility,” Kalli said, sweeping up ashes that were once his hair. Thank goodness Lucy’s mother was too busy enjoying her daughter’s spa treatment to notice.

Rafael stood tall and flexed his arms. “Whatever. There’s too much at stake to be humble.” However, the more time he spent around Lucy, the more humble he became. And it scared the demon out of him—if that was possible.

“Such a party pooper,” Serah sighed out. With a quick pat she prodded the reluctant imp his way. “Go, Squeaky. You’re our only hope.”

Everyone—except him—broke out into laughter. What was wrong with them? Didn’t they realize the urgency of the situation?

“I’ve yet to understand this humor, but now isn’t the time.” Rafael grabbed the imp’s arm and led him to the door. “We’ll be back soon.”

Lucy’s eyes sparked as she set down the brush she’d been using to color her mother’s hair. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

He pushed open the door, the jangling of bells vibrating in his ear. With a quick yank, he pulled Squeaky out the door and walked out into the cold blowing snow. Rafael willed the mists to envelop them and carry them through the portals of Limbo back to the chest.

The door slammed shut. What was his deal? She needed to get Rafe out of her system fast. She hadn’t been so turned on by a guy in… forever. Even as she stood over her mom and concentrated—scratch that—
tried
to concentrate on dying her hair, desire rippled its way through her body. She yearned and burned for him to touch her. Not good! Especially when her mother was sitting right in front of her.

“You’re our only hope?” Gerardo rolled his eyes. “Where are your Princess braids?”

Serah twirled a bouncy brunette curl in her finger. “I left them at home. Halloween was two months ago.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “And besides, Princess Leia wore buns in that movie.”

“Oh that’s right.” Gerardo grinned. “I still think she looked the best in that metal bikini. I might be gay, but I still appreciate the feminine form from time to time.”

That’s for certain. After all, hadn’t he and Frankie nearly gone at it with drawn claws for her in the catfight of the century? Where was that camera when they really needed it? She turned her attention back to her mother. She couldn’t believe how encouraging she’d become about her salon. It was like the flame of support had just been lit under her ass. Lucy had yearned for this for so long. Now that she had it, she was completely weirded out.

“Time to tune in to Timbuktu,” she said as she led her to the dryer area. Maybe making lame jokes would change her recent interest in her profession. Hah! This was her mother. Some people—
cough
—Rafe—thought she was a determined person. Well, they hadn’t met her mother.

It didn’t work. “I’m sorry I wasn’t so supportive, Lucy.”

Whoa! She called her Lucy. This was a leaf she didn’t want to turn. Maybe some other day, but not the day after she found out she was born to suck the life out of unsuspecting men.

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, frustration lacing her voice. Did this woman know when to stop?

Nope. She didn’t.

“I thought you’d be better off doing what your father loved.” She nibbled her lip. “But now I know. You should do what
you
love.” She traced her fingers over Lucy’s brand-new sterling silver dryer. “In a way it’s like surgery. You do have to cut things, after all.”

“Less blood, too,” Lucy added lamely. Awkward was the understatement of the century. What in the hell was going on?

Serah, attentive friend that she was, stepped in to help with her budding apprehension. “How’s the museum, Mrs. Gregory?”

Mom smiled and provided them with a long dissertation of all the renovations they planned for the Connolly Park Historical Museum. Not that there was much history to be found in the quaint little town, but the women of the historical society were dedicated to preserving Connolly Park’s not-so-vivid beginnings.

“Sounds fascinating,” Lucy mumbled. “I can’t wait to see that Red Brick of A-Line Road exhibit.” Lucy stifled her yawn.

Her mom huffed. “I absolutely
hated
that idea, but Mrs. Carlson insisted. I’d rather watch paint dry.” Her eyes brightened. “Mine will be much more interesting.”

Probably not by much, if she knew her Mom. “What’s yours?”

“Connolly Park’s bootlegging history.”

Wow! Her mom was becoming creative. The apocalypse must be near. Shock left Lucy speechless. Boggled, baffled, and bewildered. “Did we really have issues with Prohibition?” After all, it was Connolly Park, not Chicago.

“Capone did have a summer home on Lake Michigan,” Serah said with a grin. “At least that’s what I heard.”

Lucy laughed. “I’m sure he had a home for every season, if not more.”

“Makes me wish I lived back then. Good times. Flapper dresses, speakeasies, and gangsters.” Serah’s eyes twinkled in excitement.

“Capone died of syphilis. Good times, indeed.” Lucy patted Serah on the back.

Serah shook her head with exasperation. “Now look who’s party-pooping now.” She looked down at her watch. The same watch she had worn the night before. “Oh! I have to go. I have a client coming in at noon.”

Lucy caught a glimpse of her friend’s hand and cringed. Serah had been hurt! Lucy’s gut clenched. A long scar stretched horizontally across her hand. On each side of the scar, two perfect puncture wounds marred her porcelain skin.

Ouch! Scar?
That meant the injury happened a long time ago.

“What happened to your hand?”

Serah looked down and shrugged. “Oh, that.” She waved her hand dismissively, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands. “It happened before I moved here.”

Noticing Serah’s lack of forthcoming information, Lucy prodded some more. “How come I’ve never seen it before?”

“I don’t know.” Serah bit her lip and wrung her hands. “Sorry, I don’t have time to discuss my childhood injuries. But, if you’re interested, we can compare scars later. I have an awesome one shaped like Djibouti on my ass. Bet you’re wondering why you never saw that one either.” A weak smile peeked from her lips. “Never sit on a rat trap.”

Lucy’s eyebrow jutted up. Regardless of her flippant dismissal, Serah was hiding something. They’d been friends since Serah moved to Connolly Park twenty years ago. But she’d give her friend the benefit of the doubt—
for now
. “I’ll heed your advice.” Lucy gave her friend a quick hug. “Be careful. If anything strange happens, call me ASAP.”

“Sure thing.” With a quick wave, she threw her coat on. “See you in a few. I’d stay if I could, but this client is huge.”

“No problema,” Lucy said in a pathetic attempt at a New Jersey accent. “See youse later.”

Too bad Squeaky, the Godfather of all chimps, wasn’t there to appreciate her mobster-speak. Not that she’d be winning any Oscars. Her performance was lacking. Then again, so was Squeaky’s.

Serah smiled and nodded as she pulled the door open, then stopped dead in her tracks. “My car! Duh!” She smacked her forehead. “It’s still at your place.”

Brilliant move, Sherlock.
Taking the Rio sounded like such a great idea earlier. After all, Rafe said he couldn’t just
poof
them there because of the human cargo. Like they were illegal immigrants, or something. Lucy grabbed her purse from beneath the counter and pulled out the keys. “Here you go,” she said, throwing the keys to her friend. “If you crash it, I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’ll be gentle.” A deceptively sweet smile swept across her face. Gentle? Hah. Lucy had seen this woman drive. “You have my word.”

Then again, her word was as good as gold. Serah knew she was a woman of her word, too. “One dent, and I’ll flog you with a wet noodle.”

“Ooh! Sounds fun! You know I like my spaghetti kinky.” With that, she waved and scuttled out the door.

Lucy’s mom shook her head. What looked like a genuine smile graced her face. “She’s an odd one, but she’s good for you.”

“Eh?” Her mother
never
approved of any of her friends, including Frankie and Gerardo. Apparently, Lucy was supposed to schmooze with her doctors, dentists, and gynecologists. Yep! She actually tried to set Lucy up with an OB-GYN. A truly clinical experience. Fortunately, Lucy managed to send him away before the pelvic exam.

Her mom raised a brow. “What? Is trying to be a better mother so wrong?”

“Sorry,” Lucy muttered. “I’m just stressed and all your newfound interest creeps me out.”

Her mom blew out a breath laced with dejection. “I… I… just…” Her lip quivered and jutted out into a pout.

A pout?
She’d never seen her mom do that before. She gnawed her lip. Now she felt like a complete bitch.

“Lucy’s had a hard day, Mrs. Gregory.” Frankie swizzled his way over and wrapped his arm around Lucy’s shoulders. Frankie to the rescue. What a guy! “She didn’t get any sleep last night. Bookkeeping, you know.” Frankie turned his head to glance at the clock. “Oh no! I’ve got a highlight coming in. I need some foils.”

With a sneaky little whistle, Frankie bustled to the back room. Hmm. Didn’t he know alone time with Mom wasn’t what she needed?

Thanks a bunch Frankie!

“I knew this wouldn’t work.” With another sigh, she clasped her hands in her lap. “But I just wanted to make up for lost time.”

Lucy shrugged. “I’m still not going to your family’s Christmas party.” Lucy clenched her fists. They never approved of her father, and that disapproval had since passed on to her. In fact, part of her mother’s constant pushing stemmed from them. Always the one to please her family… that was Victoria Gregory.

“This has nothing to do with the party tonight, dear.” Her mom’s lips spread into a wan smile. “I’m talking about the big picture. As for Aunt Sally, I think I’m taking a pass, too.”

Did she hear her correctly? Standing up Aunt Sally and the whole Jennings gang? “But didn’t you just say this was an emergency? That the party was tonight?”

Her mom just offered a cryptic shrug. “I changed my mind.”

“Somebody pinch me. I think I’m dreaming.” She had to be.

Gerardo sauntered over to the crowd, a devious smile wide upon his lips. “Okay,
chica
. You got it.” With a loud giggle, he clinched his fingers on her shoulder.

“Ouch!” Then just as instantly, the pain faded. Pre-succubus, she would have had a bruise the size of a chicken egg. She pulled up the arm of her sweatshirt and caught glimpse of a just-slightly reddened circle that already faded.

Lucy gave the Latino a playful smack and sent him on his way.

“How much longer, Lucy?” Her mom’s whine pulled her from their friendly repartee. She scratched her plastic-capped head. “It’s itchy.”

Lucy checked the timer then leaned down to inspect her mom’s hair. “Five more minutes.”

Her mom let out a deep sigh. “Oh, all right.”

“Ah, hell nah!” Frankie’s voice echoed from the back. “Where the hell are the foils?”

Kalli, whose nose had been glued to the
Daily Executioner
, lifted her head. “Foils? This is a hair salon, not a fencing studio.”

At the lack of laughter, she shook her head. “I’d never make it as a comedienne.” With a deep sigh, she flung the tabloid back on the table and jumped up. “Kalli to the rescue.” With the grace of a gazelle, she bounded down the hallway to help Frankie with his quest for foils.

Shaking her head, Lucy returned to inspect her mom’s hair. Thankfully for her and her itchy head, the color had completely processed. “All set, Mom. Let’s get you rinsed.”

“Thank goodness, I thought my scalp was burning off.”

Lucy’s face fell, horror replacing mirth. The only time her mom set foot in the salon and she’d fried her head. This was worse than Mrs. Carlson’s seventies-reject perm. She clenched her teeth and bit her tongue.

“Get that look off your face, Lucy,” her mom demanded. “I have a sensitive scalp. I forgot to tell you.” She flashed an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

Lucy’s horror only slightly waned. This whole situation was surreal at best. Mom and her bonding at the last place possible—Luscious Locks.

“Your father would be proud of you.” She grinned as she slid into the shampoo chair.

Her mom’s words sent Lucy’s expression over the edge as a wide smile spread across her face.

“I took his advice, you know.”

“I know,” she said, leaning her head back in the bowl. Glancing up at the fixtures, she blinked. “Is that silver?”

“Yes,” Lucy said. “All the fixtures are silver.”

Her mom glanced up at her as she turned the faucet on. “I didn’t know they made silver faucets! You
are
doing well. I’m glad you took his advice.”

Shock prevented her from replying. Never in her twenty-nine years had she expected her mom to share in her happiness. Why couldn’t it have happened sooner?

How did that phrase go? Better late than never? Whoever coined that phrase didn’t know her or her mom. The fact was Lucy loved her, despite their differences of opinion. But now wasn’t the time to bond, with evil demons lurking. The last thing Lucy wanted was her mother’s soul on her conscience. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to her. It was bad enough she had dragged Gerardo, Frankie, and Serah into this mess. Then again, wasn’t it Serah who had dragged her into it in the first place? Nah, Serah didn’t want to open the chest that night. Lucy did that all by her lonesome, despite Serah’s pleadings not to.

Lucy scrubbed and sprayed the dye from her mom’s hair. Deep inside, her sudden interest filled Lucy with peace. But turmoil outweighed the peace. Her mother wouldn’t understand. Yesterday, Lucy would’ve welcomed her with open arms. Today, however, she couldn’t handle it. Isn’t it funny how things can change in just one day?

Then an idea hit her. Perhaps she couldn’t bond with her mom because she wasn’t the same person she gave birth to. Yeah, that had to be it. She was now a closet nymphomaniac, and her mom was as conservative as… never mind.

The truth was simple. Lucy was scared as
heck
.

***

“I look magnificent!” Gripping the mirror, her mom beamed. “I’m so sorry I ever doubted you.” She thrust the mirror back into Lucy’s hands and squealed with glee. “Even Tammy doesn’t do as good a job.”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile. Her mom’s epiphany, or whatever it was, began to grow on her.
Wonderful.
And for the first time in like forever, she wasn’t being facetious. Nothing could ruin this moment.

“What the hell!” Frankie’s voice carried throughout the salon. “This is so not happening.”

Lucy’s breath caught. This did not sound good at all. Frankie stalked in from the back hallway, his breath ragged. Then again, Frankie was known as quite the drama
queen
. But with everything going on, she wouldn’t take any chances.

“What is it?” she asked, concern lacing her voice.

Frankie sucked in a long breath of air. “All of our foils are ruined.” He threw out his hand and held out a charbroiled foil. “What the hell were you doing last night? Kalli won’t tell me anything!”

Lucy rolled her tongue along gritted teeth. “Not now… not in front of my mom,” she ground out.

“We’ll figure something out,” Kalli said. She turned and flashed an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I must have missed those. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the business.”