Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series (18 page)

“What do you mean?”

“When she went to the bathroom, I looked it up. Way Down South is a real company and my father really does own it. I don’t know what to think.”

Clarissa groaned. “I think Claude is right and your daddy is playing cat and mouse games.”

They watched through the sliding door as Ariel doused the grill from five feet back. She stared into it a moment, nodded at it, then set the bucket down.

“Now she’s really coming.”

John opened the freezer door and stuck his head inside.

“You want some ice cream?” Momma asked her when she entered.

“Sure. I’m going to go wash my hands and put on my pajamas. I suspect I reek of smoke.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When she padded away, John grabbed the ice cream and closed the door. He took off his new sunglasses and wiped the fog off on the edge of his T-shirt.

“How am I going to get through the next couple of days like that?”

“Make up a lie.”

“I’m tired of lying.”

“I’d like you less if you weren’t. Just tell you did some work on the roof and you hammered something and a bit of shrapnel flew into your eyes. You went to get it checked and the doctor figured she’d dilate ’em while she was at it.”

“Hey, Clarissa, you’re pretty good.”

She pretended to fluff her gray curls. “I learned from my big sister. She was the best liar in three counties. I miss that heifer.”

“You ever going to tell Ariel what happened?”

“What happened to what?” Ariel said, stepping into the kitchen with a sketchpad and sharpened pencil.

Shit.
John turned his back and walked as leisurely as he could to the counter. He pulled open the nearby drawer and extracted the ice cream scoop. “Uh … we were just talking about the chicken coop and why Clarissa stopped using it a couple of years ago.”

“Oh.” He saw her retreat into the living room in his periphery, and let out a relieved exhale.

“That woman is going to kill me.”

“Probably.”

He peeled off the ice cream lid and scooped out a generous scoop of butter pecan for Ariel.

“I’d better make some coffee.”

“Make it decaf,” Clarissa said. “’Less you want her up ’till dawn. Honestly, I got sick of hearing the floorboards creak last night. Lord, help me, I’m tired.”

John managed to keep his affliction hidden away over the next few hours solely because of Ariel’s busyness. He’d poked his head out of her bedroom once and found her on the sofa, sketching little devils in earmuffs and igloos with devil tails, before he eased back in and closed the door. She was going to have a big surprise when she found out what real demons looked like. They weren’t so cute.

She’d crawled into the bed in the dark at around two
A.M.
, yawning as she pulled back the covers.

“You still awake?” she asked.

“Yeah. Come up with any good ideas?”

“Ideas? A few.” She snuggled close and dipped her hand inside the waistband of his pajama bottoms as if to warm it. “Whether they’re any good or not, I can’t say. I want to do a good job on this, but I think I might be thinking too literally.”

Definitely.

“I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

“You feel a little cold tonight.”

“I do?” He put a hand on his own forehead but to him it just felt normal.

“Yeah. It’s nice, though. I can’t wait until the heat breaks and some of this stifling humidity winds down.”

“I like it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I think it suits me better than the desert did.”

“You’re nuts. I imagine summer in The South is what Hell feels like.”

You may be right if that’s your worst fear.

He held her closer and stroked her hair. He had so much to say, and didn’t have the words to say any of it. She deserved to know what was going on — if she was in the midst of something that had the potential to be unsafe. The brutal truth was if he walked away — got back on the road and apologized to Gulielmus — Gulielmus would probably leave Ariel alone. She was just a small fish in a really large pond. To John, though, she was the pond itself. She had the potential to give him
everything
he craved from life. Home. Hearth. Stability. Affection. Maybe even a couple of vaguely supernatural offspring.

“Hey, Ariel?”

“Hmm?”

Her response was slow, groggy, so he didn’t think she’d hang in there much longer. It probably wasn’t a good time for deep conversations, but when else to ask her except when she was
still
?

“How would you classify our relationship?”

“That’s a weird question.”

“I don’t think so.”

She yawned again and shifted her hand so it was wedged between his thighs. He tried to think chilly thoughts, but he suspected his other head would think independently as usual. That’d kill the mood he was going for.

“Give me some parameters, here.”

“Okay. Where do you see this going?”

“Going? I dunno. I’ve known you a week. Feels like longer, though. I like you a lot. I want to keep ya.”

“I want to be kept.”

“It’s nice to … ”

Her voice trailed off and he waited for her to finish the statement. When she didn’t, he gave her a little shake.

“Hmm?” Her hum vibrated against his chest in a tickle.

“What were you saying? You said it’s nice. What’s nice?”

“Oh. It’s nice to hear you say that. My ex wasn’t so … ”

He gave her another little shake and felt like an asshole for it.

“My ex treated me like I was invisible sometimes.”

How’s that even possible?
Her ex was obviously a grade-A loser. “I’ve got some news for you.”

“What?” She buried her face against his chest and threw a leg over his. She was hunkering down and settling in for the night, and if past evenings have been representative of her typical behaviors, once she locked that leg, she wasn’t moving again. He had thirty seconds tops.

“Took the written driver’s exam today. Passed it. Your gran helped me prove my residency. I’m apparently leasing this half of the bed. I think I owe her a dollar for the month.”

“That’s wonderful. I don’t really want you mobile, though.”

He laughed. “I’m a big boy. I gotta get around.”

“You have somewhere to be other than here?”

Absolutely not. In fact, Clarissa’s house had become both a sanctuary and a prison. He knew while he was in it, Gulielmus wouldn’t pop in unannounced. At the same time, that meant his father might resort to dirty tricks to lure him out. Even go so far as to hiring Ariel’s new company to brand his beer?

That seemed like an elaborate step to take to get John in line.

“No, I don’t. I like being here. Feels homey. Your grandmother is a good woman. I’m grateful for her hospitality.”

“And she’s grateful for all the work you’ve done around here, I’m sure.”

“I’ve got to go out and find a job eventually. I can’t ask you to marry me some day if I’m an indigent slob.” He chuckled.

He waited. Listened.

And that time when Ariel didn’t respond, he didn’t wake her up.

It was probably for the best.

“Did you see Agatha this morning?” Mark asked when Ariel returned to their shared office with her second cup of coffee of the morning.

She shook her head as she sat. “No, and to be honest, it suits me just fine if I have a couple more hours before I
do
see her. These drawings have been giving me fits. I think the problem is they look too much like caricatures. They need to be more realistic, I think.”

She twirled her gum eraser between her fingers even thinking about it.

“You hand-draw?”

“Yeah. Sometimes. I don’t always get the chance, but there’s only so much you can do with stock art. I can do some pretty creative stuff with it in Illustrator, but for me, manipulating my own stuff just seems more flexible. Besides, I love the sensation of pulling a pencil’s lead across a piece of paper. Way more satisfying than moving a mouse around.”

“Have you tried using a stylus? Last guy I worked with had one. He wasn’t so good, though.”

“No. Maybe I should modernize. I’m just a country girl.” She giggled and went back to drawing.

Mark wasn’t so bad. A little weird, but weren’t they all?

She’d started the day in a much better mood than the previous one, too. John had woken her up with his head under the covers and his tongue doing more for her wake-up than her alarm clock ever had. She’d rolled out of bed feeling giddy and rubber-legged.

Momma said she was going to take him to his driver’s license road exam and then he said he’d had some errands to run. He was pretty much a blur from the time she’d stepped out of the shower until she left, never holding still. She’d wanted to kiss him goodbye, but he’d closed himself into the bathroom when she absolutely had to get on the road.

“Ariel.” Agatha stuck her head into the office.

Ariel nearly wet her slacks from fright. The woman had crept up with an unusual stealth for someone in such clunky heels. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You got concepts for me?”

“I … ” She stared at her sketchpad at all the abandoned attempts at humor and the half-formed icons that had already been done before and
better
. There were a couple of things that were on the right track, but she needed some time to refine them.

“I need a couple of hours.”

“And you can have them, but I need you to come talk to this guy. He seems to fancy himself an amateur art director and you’ve got to come listen to his prattling for a little while. See what he has to say about where he sees the business going. What he has in store for the future and yada yada. I’ve got to be in another meeting in ten minutes. All I do is meetings. I don’t get any actual work done. Funny how that works.”

“Ariel picked up her laptop and coffee cup. “Where is he?”

“Conference Two. Don’t let him talk down to you. He’s a blowhard, but has the typical male intelligence.”

“Hey!” Mark balked.

“Apologies.” Agatha leaned into the office and gave him a patronizing little pat on the head. “I thought your music was on.”

“I was between songs.”

Ariel smiled as she passed them. She was starting to warm up to the quirky team.

As she walked down the hall, she mentally planned the rest of her day. There was that apartment tour to reschedule. That was a priority. Momma would never complain at however long Ariel needed to stay. In fact, she’d probably welcome her to build on an extension if she saw the need. She’d want her to be close. But, one of the things she’d hated most about living in California was all the commuting. She spent two hours in her car every day getting to and from the office, and now back home she was doing almost the same thing.

It was different, though, at home. All those open country roads were easy driving. She didn’t hit any real traffic until she passed the Wilmington city limits. In California, it could take her an hour to go twenty miles if she didn’t time her trip well.

Apartment. I need to find a doctor. Birth control’s kinda important … Maybe I’ll see if Momma needs anything for dinner.

She was typing the list into her phone’s notepad when she crossed the conference room threshold, so she didn’t see the client upon entry. She was vaguely aware of him standing upon her arrival, but didn’t look at him until she’d piled all her gear atop the table.

“Hello, I’m Ariel — ”

Bill Nolitzname gripped the table edge, eyes narrowed, a growling snarl escaping his lips.

“Um … ” She swallowed hard and took a step back.
What’s his deal?

He straightened his back and lifted his head so Ariel could see his blue eyes held a glint of undue malevolence. Was he really
that
pissed she was dating his son and that John had chosen not to cast his lot with him? Seemed like a petty thing to get upset over.

“
You
.”

“Yes.” She tried for a grin, but her lips twitched at the corners. “Ariel Thomas. I’m an art director here. I’ve been assigned to this account.”

He shifted his weight, and Ariel thought the angry man would walk toward her, but he held his position. His fingers, however, now tightened around the chair back and with his knuckles so white, she worried he’d splinter the wood.

“Well.” His voice was deep and tremulous — it had the kind of rumbling vibrato that might have incited an avalanche. But as dark as unfriendly as it was, there was a certain attractiveness about it. She didn’t know if it was because it was so much like John’s or if it was something else.

“I couldn’t have planned this better if I tried.” Now he did walk around, dragging the fingertips of his right hand along the tabletop as he made a sinuous strut around the conference table.

Ariel took another step back from the table. “I’m sorry. Planned what?”

“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

Okay, asshole. I was going to be nice.
She squared her shoulders and narrowed her own eyes right back at him. “I studied the materials. I’m perfectly well-equipped to discuss the campaign art with you. I’m a qualified, professional art director.”

He stopped one foot from her and leaned his rear against the table edge, eyeing her like a dripping ice cream cone.

She held her ground. Maybe this was a lesson she hadn’t learned when she was just a
junior
art director. She didn’t spend a lot of time with clients, much less one-on-one. She might have been prepared to talk graphics, but she was considerably unequipped to put chauvinist jerkwads in their place.

Maybe Agatha hired the wrong girl for this job. Maybe my ex was right.

She figured if she didn’t have the confidence, she could at least have bluster, so she quirked her brow and perched her fists on her hips.

“You don’t know. If you knew, you’d be afraid of me.”

“Mr. Nolitzname, you’re not going to bully me. We’re going to devise some ideas for your branding. Feel free to make suggestions, but we’re the pros. You’ve got to trust that we know what works in the market.”

“This doesn’t have a damned thing to do with beer and branding. This has to do with my son and what he is.”