The Sexorcist (6 page)

Her brow wrinkled. “Is that different than an exorcism?”

“Yeah. Fireworks galore,” he said with a wry twist of his lips. “When a demon’s spirit is summoned into an object or person, we exorcise the demonic presence from the object and it goes back to the demonic plane. Easy. But when a corporeal demon is summoned, his demonic form will be drawn across to our world. The only way to send him back is to banish his corporeal form. Which is a real pain in the ass, since we have to capture his form to do it and corporeal demons aren’t the easiest creatures to catch.”

“But you’ve done this before,” Brittany insisted, her eyes begging him to agree.

“Sure, I have,” he quickly reassured her. “Twice.”

A little of the blind faith drained out of her eyes. “Only twice?”

“Corporeal demons aren’t that common. Summoning one isn’t as easy as it sounds. It takes a lot of power. Not like housewives calling spirits into their blenders or vacuums—or children—for fun.”

“Can you banish him quickly? I’d like to get this over with.” Some of the color had come back to her face and she tipped her head to the side. “Not that being stalked by a demon isn’t flattering in its own way, but as new experiences go, I’d just as soon end this one quickly. There was something very disturbing about that little man. Even before he started chasing me through the flower sellers.”

He’d never met anyone who could be
flattered
by being stalked by a demon before. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he smothered it. This was serious business. “I’ll have to find him first. Which is easier said than done without his name or any idea who summoned him.” He looked at Little Miss Sunshine and Innocence and asked a question he was certain he already knew the answer to, “Do you have any enemies, Brittany?”

She gave a soft, startled laugh. “Enemies? Goodness, no.”

“No one who would sic a demon on you? This demon didn’t give you any clue why he’d targeted you?”

“No.” She blinked owlishly and he was caught again in the enormity of her big brown eyes. “What could he possibly want with me?”

“I don’t think it’s you,” Karma said, startling Rodriguez with the reminder that he and Brittany weren’t alone. “I think it’s the wedding.”

Chapter Nine—Wedding Bell Hell

“The wedding?” Brittany yanked her eyes off Rodriguez and turned to her new boss.

Karma stood, arms folded across her chest, the tapping of one manicured fingernail against her opposite arm the only indication of her agitation. “We’ve gone through three wedding planners already. There’s been no end to the minor catastrophes and when the last one left, he said he couldn’t think of the wedding without
seeing red
. Could someone have summoned a demon to stop the wedding?”

Rodriguez shrugged, and for a moment Brittany was distracted by his shoulders. Did all men have such lovely shoulders? All muscley and firm. She just wanted to squeeze them. And maybe lick them a little.

“
Could
someone have done it?” he said. “Yes. But why would they bother? There are much easier ways to stop a wedding.”

“Easier ways that would still ensure no one could track it back to you?”

Karma and Rodriguez were both so serious, puzzling over the demon problem. Brittany listened raptly, resisting the temptation to bounce. This was by far the most interesting conversation she had ever observed.

“But we can track the demon back to the summoner,” Rodriguez protested. “We just have to get our hands on the demon.”

“Which you said yourself is easier said than done,” Karma pointed out.

“Ooh!” Brittany allowed herself one little bounce. “But he’ll be tracking me, won’t he? I can be bait!”

Karma and Rodriguez both turned to gape at her as if she’d lost her mind. Perhaps she ought to have offered to be demon bait with a bit less enthusiasm. But she couldn’t help the fact that it sounded like fun. She’d never been demon bait before.

“No.” Rodriguez said flatly. End of subject.

Karma tipped her chin to one side, the tiniest smile playing at her lips. “You know, she might be onto something.”

“
No
,” he repeated.

“The demon is bound to try to approach Brittany at some point. Why else would he have given her his name? All you have to do is watch Brittany. When the demon arrives, you’ll be ready.”

Rodriguez’s jaw worked. He did not look terribly pleased with the babysit-the-demon-bait-girl plan. She could actually see his mind racing as he tried to come up with some reason the plan wouldn’t work. She knew the moment he gave up.

His lickable shoulders tensed and he growled, “Fine. I’ll watch her.” Then he stood, and speared one finger in Karma’s direction. “You’d better be right about this,” he growled.

Brittany had the feeling he wasn’t only talking about using her as demon bait.

“It’s only three weeks until the wedding,” Karma said firmly. “You just have to keep her safe until then.”

“And keep the demon from destroying the wedding,” Brittany chimed in. “I’ll help you.”

Again, they both looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. What? She wasn’t allowed to participate in the conversation? She had good ideas. She may not know everything there was to know about demons, but she was a fast learner. And she was determined to make sure this wedding was perfect. It was her job. Sort of.

“I’ve got some stuff to take care of if I’m gonna be guarding her ass for three weeks,” Rodriguez grumbled.

He nodded to Karma, shot Brittany a look she couldn’t decipher and then stalked out of the office, leaving Brittany gazing after him and mourning the disappearance of those shoulders.

It was only when Karma pointedly cleared her throat that Brittany realized mourning shoulders was probably not the best use of her workday.

“Forgive me if I’m reading something into this that isn’t there,” Karma said gently as she circled her desk to retake her chair, “but you do recall the sexual harassment policy you read in your hiring packet?”

Brittany laughed. “Oh, he isn’t harassing me!” Though she’d definitely be willing to let him try.

Karma cleared her throat again and looked directly at her. “That isn’t quite what I meant.”

For several long seconds, Brittany’s mind was utterly blank. She couldn’t imagine what Karma meant. Then realization struck. As what Karma meant sank in, Brittany felt a blush cover her from her hairline to her toes. “Oh.”

Merciful heavens, she was actually being chastised for ogling a coworker.

“Intra-office romances are strongly discouraged here at Karmic Consultants.”

Brittany forced a laugh. “No, of course. I wasn’t, you know,
interested
.”
And may God not strike me down for lying like a dog
. “I just sometimes stare at people.” She waved a hand vaguely. “It isn’t, like, a sex thing.”

When Karma smiled, Brittany silently gave thanks for her own eccentricities that her boss didn’t even blink at her
oh, I just stare
excuse. There were occasionally benefits to people thinking you were three-quarters out of your mind.

“Forget I even mentioned it.” Karma gave her a warm smile.

Brittany returned the smile, hoping her own didn’t look like curdled milk. She would not think of licking Rodriguez’s shoulders. She
wouldn’t.

Brittany rose and headed back to the lobby and her own desk.
Her
desk.

She sat down and fired up the computer, which held schedules for each of the consultants and Karma herself. As the computer hummed to life, she ran her hands across the smooth wood of the desk, wallowing again in the fact that it was hers.

So she had to be more subtle in her drooling over Rodriguez. So what? Karma’s mandate against intra-office dating was hardly cause for tears.

Rodriguez was very clearly not interested in her—and completely out of her league. He was strong and sexy, confident and successful. He had
lived
. Brittany felt like a kid with the training-wheels still on when it came to living life, but he was popping wheelies and doing handstands on the handlebars.

He wouldn’t want someone like her. So it was just as well she had the excuse of valuing her job to remove the sting of never-gonna-happen disappointment. She could pretend the only reason he hadn’t looked twice at her was the Karmic Consultants no-dating policy.

Brittany didn’t mind deluding herself now and then. It made life’s bitter pills go down more smoothly.

After she went through the messages left overnight on KC’s non-emergency phone line, Brittany let her mind wander through what ifs as she opened and sorted through the mail.

What if Rodriguez were madly in love with her? What if he was only grouchy about having to protect her because he couldn’t imagine how he would possibly keep his hands off her if he was forced to spend every hour of every day guarding her delectable person?

A little giggle escaped Brittany’s mouth at the idea of Rodriguez lusting after her
delectable person
.

She was still giggling when the front door opened and the man himself walked in, returning from whatever
stuff
he’d needed to accomplish before he could begin guard-dog duty. She couldn’t quite cut off her laughter in time. He frowned.

“What are you laughing about?” The laughter police.

She waved at the stack of mail in front of her. “Bills and invoices.” She couldn’t very well tell him the truth.

“You are one odd creature. Anybody ever tell you that?”

Brittany flashed him her most blinding smile. “Every single day.”

“Good,” he grunted. Then he flopped down onto one of the waiting area couches and pulled a battered paperback out of his bag, settling in to ignore her.

She sighed and turned back to her opening and sorting. Oh yeah, Rodriguez was one step away from professing his undying love all right. Just call her Aphrodite.

Chapter Ten—The Joy of Filing

By the third day of his guard duty, Rodriguez should have been going out of his mind from boredom. He should have been itching to get out and get some demon exorcising action in, going stir-crazy from the inactivity of sitting on the waiting-room couch, waiting for Brittany’s demon to appear.

He
should
have been bored, but spending all day every day with Brittany was far from boring. Damned if the woman couldn’t make filing entertaining.

She laughed her way through opening the mail, danced through the filing, and answered the phones with a smile in her voice. And those were just the secretarial tasks. Her attitude toward all things wedding-related approached pure rapture.

Lucy stopped by a couple times a day and the two of them would bend their heads together behind Brittany’s desk, two sunny, bright-eyed peas in a pod as they gushed over wedding preparations.

None of which appeared to be demon-cursed in the slightest.

Lucy had laughed out loud when Brittany told her there was a demon sicced on the wedding. The bride thought the idea of anyone wanting to stop the wedding was downright ridiculous, and after three days of watching Brittany in a state of unpossessed secretarial bliss, Rodriguez was beginning to agree with her.

When Karma’d ordered him to go along with the plan to dangle Brittany like bait in front of the nose of an unpredictable and possibly dangerous demon, he’d hated the idea of willfully putting her in the line of fire. But, at the time, he’d thought at least his days would be filled with yanking her out of demon-induced scrapes and chasing down the bad guy to pin him and banish him.

But, in three days, there hadn’t been so much as a twinge of red on the horizon. Not the tiniest little flicker on his demon radar.

Brittany didn’t appear to be in any imminent danger. Unless it was the danger of being universally loved by everyone who called, emailed, or walked through the doors of Karmic Consultants. In seventy-two hours, she’d managed to wrap the entire office staff, all of the consultants, and every KC client neatly around her little finger. It was getting pretty damn crowded around that dainty digit.

At first he’d thought it was all part of her act, but no one could be so consistently cheerful for three straight days without some crack in the façade. Unless they were genuinely happy. The woman actually whistled while she worked.

He couldn’t even really convince himself that she was performing her cheer for his benefit. She’d been ignoring him.

Not that she pretended he didn’t exist. She’d glance his direction every now and then, giving him a sunny smile that was no more or less radiant than the one she gave the clients or the office accountant. When it would be awkward not to speak to him, she spoke, but other than that, she left him to his own thoughts. And those thoughts couldn’t seem to get away from her.

On the first day, he’d tried to read a book, but his eyes couldn’t seem to stay on the page. He kept looking over to see where she was, what she was doing, and listening in as she charmed the socks off another client. He thought her patented good cheer would be grating on those who called with complaints, but she dealt with their disgruntlement with just the right amount of understanding and optimism, respecting their rage without fueling it.

He’d read about three pages the entire day and couldn’t remember a single word.

He’d seen her to her car and checked it over for possession. She’d refused his offer to tail her home—cheerfully, of course—and wished him a good night. But none of it had been done in an inviting way.

In fact, now that he thought about it, he was having a hard time remembering a single instance in which Brittany had actually flirted with him. Was his ego really so ridiculous he just assumed every woman wanted to sleep with him? Had he been hit on so much lately that he saw it everywhere, even when there was nothing to see?

Sure, every now and then he’d catch her staring, but the look in her eyes was always more
gee, isn’t it a nice day
than
I want you naked
.

He was beginning to feel like a prize idiot. He’d built up walls against her seduction and she hadn’t even given him a single flirty look.

On the second day, he pretended to read the book as he silently marveled at the way Brittany could make any task a celebration. He was no longer on the defensive, thinking she was going to pounce on him and rip his clothes off just to win a bet. But knowing she wasn’t a wagering housewife intent on seduction didn’t get him any closer to knowing why she was the way she was.

She was baffling in her sincere enjoyment of
everything
. He’d never seen anyone walk through life with such constant delight. He just couldn’t make sense of it.

By the third day, he’d given up on the pretense of the book. Rodriguez didn’t even get it out of his bag. He just watched Brittany.

She was wearing another of her little sundresses with a scarf twisted around to conceal her cleavage, even though the gorgeous spring weather they’d been having had broken and it had been storming all day. She’d popped out of her car that morning in a bright red rain slicker and matching galoshes, looking like an advertisement for playing in the rain.

As she’d skipped across the parking lot to where he waited under the shelter of the awning, he’d been tempted to run out to meet her. He’d have gotten drenched, but it might have been worth it just to hear her laugh. And he knew she would have laughed. She’d giggle with pure delight and splash around with him.

But he hadn’t moved. He’d just opened the door for her and followed her inside, watching her whip off the cherry-red slicker and reveal the polka-dot dress beneath. He’d watched her fuss with her gauzy scarf until it modestly covered her chest. He couldn’t imagine how he could have been such an idiot as to think a woman who was that careful not to give a flash of cleavage could possibly be coming on to him.

He’d expected her to change her shoes, as all the other women in the building had done as soon as they got inside, but Brittany just squelched around all day in bright red galoshes. The sight of her slim, bare legs rising out of those boots shouldn’t have been so eye-catching, but he couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away—especially while she was filing. The bending and straightening, crouching and twisting to reach into the various cabinets shouldn’t have been an erotic dance, but his body reacted like he was getting a private dance.

Which only made the fact that she wasn’t
trying
to turn him on that much more annoying. It was really starting to bug him that she didn’t seem to want him.

Rodriguez groaned and dragged a hand across his face. Great. He couldn’t just be happy that Brittany was keeping things professional between them. No-o. He had to decide he wanted her to want him. Classic.

“You’re staring again.”

He jolted at the sound of her voice. “Am I?”

“Do I have ink on my face or something?” She fidgeted with her scarf.

He’d noticed she did that a lot when she noticed him looking at her. As if she’d caught him trying to sneak a look down her dress. Rodriguez would have been offended, if he hadn’t practically accused her of objectifying
his
body just a couple days ago.
Pot, meet kettle.

“You look great,” he said, keeping his tone casual so the compliment wouldn’t spook her. He’d seen her pull back in on herself under too much praise and he liked her out in the open like she was right now. “I’m just trying to figure you out. Do you mind?”

She cocked her head and a small smile played at her lips, as if she couldn’t quite keep from smiling at all times. “Do I mind the staring or do I mind you trying to figure me out?”

He shrugged. “Both.”

“I guess I don’t mind either one.” Her smile got bigger and took on a conspiratorial tint that made him feel like he was being invited into a club that included just the two of them. “I tend to stare at people while I’m thinking. Always makes them think I’m a little barmy. And if you’d like to figure me out, you have my full support. Just promise to let me in on anything interesting you might discover.” Her brown eyes twinkled at him.

“You aren’t afraid I’ll discover your deep, dark secrets?”

Brittany giggled. “Rodriguez, I hate to break it to you, but I’m not exactly the deep, dark secret type. I don’t have mysterious layers. I’m an open book.” She flung her arms open wide.

“I think you are,” he agreed, bemused. “You have no idea how rare that is.”

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.” She turned back to the filing, sliding neatly printed reports into the client files. “I may be an optimist, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the world around me. You’re pretty closed up, yourself.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Nope. Just different. And I like things that are different and new.” She closed the last filing drawer with an aura of triumph, dusting off her hands.

“That much I already figured out.” She was so open, so matter of fact about who she was. He didn’t know why he found that so disconcerting. Possibly because people just weren’t like that.

Her boots squeaked as she danced over and sat on the seat opposite him in the waiting area. She propped her elbows on her knees and framed her chin with her palms. “What else have you figured out?”

“Is this a test?”

“Just a little quiz. Not even a fully grown one. A quizlet.”

Instead of answering her question, he leaned forward and propped his forearms on his knees until their shoulders almost touched and said conspiratorially, “You know what I
can’t
figure out?”

“What?” she whispered, her eyes twinkling directly into his.

“How can you be so happy all the time? Isn’t it exhausting?”

“How can you be so unhappy all the time?” she countered. “Isn’t
that
exhausting?”

He frowned. “I’m not unhappy.” He wasn’t. He wasn’t happy either, but he wasn’t
un
happy. He just was.

“Of course you aren’t, but do you see what a silly question it is?”

“It isn’t a silly question. No one is happy all the time. People react to the situations around them. But not you. You get in a car accident caused by a demon possessing your car and you come out of it smiling. When I saw that, I thought…” He trailed off, realizing he didn’t particularly want to share what he’d thought of her. It hadn’t been flattering.

“You thought I was stupid or crazy, right?” she asked, without the slightest dent in her good cheer. “Don’t worry. I’m not offended. That’s what most people think of me.”

“So why don’t you…” He made a vague gesture with his hands, not entirely sure what he was suggesting.

“Be less happy so people will think I’m smart and sane? That’s a silly reason to make yourself miserable.”

“You don’t have to make yourself miserable to have people take you seriously.”

“Why would I want people to take me seriously? Life is so much more fun when you don’t take it too seriously. People worry too much, and about the most ridiculous things. And does worry ever solve things? No. Does it make you happy? No. So don’t do it.”

“It isn’t that easy. You can’t just tell people to stop worrying.”

“It
is
that easy,” she insisted. “Bob Marley discovered the secret to a happy life in ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’. Now if only people would listen to him.”

“‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ was Bobby McFerrin. Bob Marley discovered the secret to a stress-free life through extensive marijuana use.”

“What do you worry about?” she asked suddenly. “What keeps you from being a happy little exorcist?”

He coughed, choking on a laugh. “I’ve never been called a happy little exorcist before.”

“That’s because you’re too somber all the time. You get to deal with demons! That’s exciting. Think how lucky you are.”

“Demons aren’t exactly the crème de la crème of the supernatural world.”

“Why not? Because they’re evil? So what? You’re not.”

“They aren’t evil exactly. Not all of them, at least.”

“There. See? Even less reason to be dour.”

He laughed outright at her twisted logic. Her face lit.

“I knew you’d have a wonderful laugh,” she declared. “It’s a little rusty sounding, but if you give it some more practice, you could have a truly infectious one in no time.”

He smiled in spite of himself.
Brittany
was infectious. Her delight in the world around her. Her determination to laugh her way through every experience. He’d been trying to figure out what it was about her that sparked something alive and
happy
in everyone she met, but he was beginning to think it was just her. She was intoxicating.

They both fell silent, sharing a smile and a moment of accord that sent a sense of warmth radiating through him.

Then the front door flew open with a bang and Lucy and Jo rushed through, dripping from the rain and trailing the storm behind them.

“Disaster!” Lucy wailed.

And just like that the cozy moment of simpatico evaporated. Rodriguez stood and Brittany splashed over in her red galoshes to meet the bride halfway. He stayed behind to watch the show from a distance, annoyed at the demon and just a tiny bit relieved to have the connection broken. It was too easy to get sucked into Brittany’s happy little world and forget about reality. But one of them had to keep his head on his shoulders. And, knowing Brittany, it had better be him. She would walk smiling into the Armageddon.