Truth or Demon (8 page)

“We have to figure out a way to make him more appealing to Poppy.”

“If he’d keep his mouth shut, that would probably help a lot,” Madison said.

Again, Daisy couldn’t argue.

“He’s so good looking,” Emma said, her voice wistful. “You’d just think he’d be more charming.”

All three girls nodded at that one.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out, staying in the little lobby area. Madison collapsed into one of the peach upholstered chairs. Emma leaned against the wall and Daisy paced.

“We need to come up with a story so that his stupid comment suddenly makes sense,” Daisy said, thinking aloud. “A reason blondes would have a bad association for him.”

“A bad experience with bleach?” Madison suggested.

“Highlights gone wrong,” Daisy said with a giggle.

“What if a blonde broke his heart?” Emma said. “And left him afraid to love again?”

Madison snickered, but Daisy stopped pacing.

“That’s a great idea, Emma,” Daisy said, her mind already inventing a story. A heartbreaking story.

“He needs to be wounded just like a hero in a romance novel. Poppy will go for that.”

“Hey.”

Poppy looked up from her computer to see Daisy in the doorway of her small home office.

“Hey,” Poppy said, welcoming the distraction. She’d been trying to finish up the last couple chapters of a legal textbook she’d been hired to copyedit. But her mind wasn’t on the work, which was dry at best. Today it was downright painful.

Two more heads poked into her office; Poppy should have known Daisy wouldn’t be alone. Her little sister was rarely without her friends.

“Hi, girls.”

“I didn’t expect you home this early,” Daisy said, coming into the room and flopping down on the brass daybed.

Emma joined her, although she perched on the edge of the cushion, looking oddly nervous. She fidgeted, twirling one of her blond curls around her finger. Madison remained leaning on the doorframe, but even in her slouched position Poppy got the impression she was uncomfortable.

Daisy, however, lounged among the gingham pillows, picking at the chipped nail polish on her index finger with no worries on her face.

Poppy usually didn’t mind Daisy’s entourage, but this afternoon, she was a little frazzled. Time spent in the company of someone like Killian O’Brien was nerve-wracking on many levels.

“So why are you back so early?” Daisy asked again.

Poppy glanced at Madison. She could hardly answer Daisy’s question honestly with the man’s cousin—second cousin? whatever—with his family member here.

She looked back at Daisy. “Well, I did have some work I had to get done.”

“You are a workaholic,” Daisy said, not for the first time.

Poppy knew she could be, although the past half hour hadn’t been an example of that.

“Killian’s a workaholic too,” Madison said, coming into the room. She nudged Emma with her hip, sitting on the daybed. All three girls lined up, looking at her almost expectantly.

“Is he?” Poppy asked, even though she didn’t really want to talk about the most stunningly beautiful and frankly most tactless man she’d ever met.

Madison sighed. “Well, he wasn’t always that way. He used to be quite a carefree, fun-loving kind of guy. Or at least that’s what my mom told me.”

Poppy shifted in her desk chair, not sure she wanted to hear anything more about Killian.

But she still found herself saying, “Really?”

Madison sighed again, this time the sound a little sad. “Yes. My mother said that was before he lost the love of his life.”

Poppy shifted again, her attention focused on Madison. Waiting for the girl to continue.

“The love of his life?” Daisy asked, looking from Madison to Poppy, then back to Madison.

Madison nodded, her expression somber. “Yes. It was his high school sweetheart in Sweden. Agnetha Fältskog.”

Agnetha Fältskog.
Why did that name sound familiar?

“They were together for nearly eight years and were going to marry. And then the worst thing happened.” Madison paused, shaking her head, clearly reflecting on the story her mother had told her.

Poppy hitched forward in her seat, wanting to ask, what? What happened? But she kept silent.

“Agnetha left him. At the altar.”

Daisy gasped.

“That’s awful,” Emma said, her voice filled with sorrow.

Madison nodded. “Yes. She left him for the minister. They announced their love for each other while in the church.”

Poppy gaped at the girls. That was beyond awful.

“That must have really affected how he deals with women in general,” Daisy said.

“Definitely,” Madison said.

“What did she look like?” Daisy asked, which Poppy thought an odd question, but she still found herself on the edge of her seat, wanting to know too. Despite herself.

“She was a tall blonde. Of course, I mean she was Swedish.”

Well, that explained his comment about blondes today. Disliking all blondes still seemed like an extreme reaction, but then wasn’t she still a little gun-shy of musicians?

“She also starred with him on his Swedish television show. And he ended up leaving that too, because it was too difficult to see her every day.”

He’d lost his love and his career. Some of Poppy’s displeasure with Killian faded. He’d probably just reacted today when he saw that woman. How would she react if she saw someone who looked like Adam? Probably not well, honestly.

Maybe they weren’t so different. She understood both those losses—all too well.

“Well, we’re off to work on our science project,” Daisy said, jumping up from the daybed. She gestured for the other two girls, who appeared a little surprised by her sudden announcement.

“Oh, right,” Emma said, standing too.

Madison joined them.

“Are you nearly done with that?” Poppy had forgotten about her sister’s big biology project, which wasn’t like her.

“Yeah, just writing up our data and practicing our presentation.”

Daisy was a good student and a great kid, and Poppy rarely had to get after her to do her schoolwork. Still, she liked to know what was going on.

“Great. Where are you working on it?” Poppy asked her sister.

“Madison’s. I’ll be home for dinner.”

Poppy knew she should have simply nodded, but her own curiosity got the better of her.

“Is Killian there?”

Daisy paused. “Umm, no. He went out again.”

“Oh, okay.” Poppy fiddled with a pen on her desk, trying to look not particularly interested and fighting the urge to ask more.

“See you later,” Daisy said with a little smile; then she and the girls dashed out of the room. And Poppy heard giggles as they exited the apartment.

“I don’t think we have to worry now about your sister befriending old demon boy,” Madison said once they got in the elevator.

“She totally bought that story,” Daisy agreed.

Madison’s eyebrows shot up, then she grinned. “She did more than buy the story.”

Daisy frowned, not following.

“She’s totally got a little thing for him,” Madison said, widening her eyes with disbelief.

“No, she doesn’t,” Daisy said, immediately shaking her head.

“She does.”

Daisy looked to Emma. “Do you think so?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. But I kinda suck at the whole ‘boy’ thing.”

Daisy shook her head again. “I really don’t think so.”

“It doesn’t matter. He may be hot, but he’s definitely not the true-love type.”

The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open, but before Daisy exited, she added, “Well, and Poppy would never be dumb enough to fall for a guy like that.”

She turned to step out and nearly ran into one of the objects of their conversation.

Killian raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. “Poppy wouldn’t be dumb enough to fall for who?”

C
HAPTER
9

K
illian knew who they were talking about. But if he was expecting Daisy to hem and haw and fumble to find a suitably tactful answer, he should have known better.

“You,” she said.

“Why would she be dumb to fall for me?” He hated to admit it, but he was a little offended.

“Well, first of all, you’re a demon,” Daisy said.

Okay, there was that.

“She doesn’t know that,” he said, most of his defensiveness disguised by the fact he was busy stopping the elevator door from automatically sliding shut.

“Still, you aren’t her type,” Daisy said.

Just leave it alone. He didn’t care if he was her type, he didn’t
want
to be her type. But his ego wouldn’t let him remain quiet.

“I’m everyone’s type,” he stated.

“And that’s exactly why you would never be her type.” Then Daisy frowned and peered past him into the hallway. “Why are you still here?”

Did his ego need more bashing?

“I—” Embarrassment joined the displeasure in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. “I didn’t remember which apartment I was supposed to stay in.”

The girls exchanged glances, their shared expression one of unimpressed tolerance. Then Daisy stepped back, waving for him to enter the enclosed space.

“You are staying on the sixth floor,” Madison said slowly, as if she was speaking to a simpleton, as she pressed the button labeled with a print-smudged number six.

In truth, he was feeling a bit like a simpleton. It wasn’t like him to forget—well, anything. Of course, that hadn’t been true here. Nothing he knew about himself seemed to apply here.

Without any further conversation, the girls stepped out onto the sixth floor and led him to the door of his flowery abode. Emma moved forward—not without giving Killian a wary glance—to unlock the door.

“You should give the key to Killian,” Daisy said, and the other girl’s face immediately collapsed into a worried frown.

“I don’t know …” Emma glanced at him again, and clutched the small, silver key tighter in her fist.

“He’s got to be able to come and go without us around. And you don’t want to leave the apartment unlocked, do you?” Daisy said.

“What if Sweetness accidentally got out? Or someone stole something while Killian was away? Isn’t it better that he lock the place when he’s coming and going?” Daisy said.

Emma shot another glance back at Killian, twisting her lips as she considered Daisy’s words.

“Come on, Em, we’re already trusting a demon to stay here,” Madison said, her tone much more impatient than Daisy’s. “What difference does it make if he has a key?”

Killian supposed the girl had a point, but again he could have done without it sounding like another slight.

Finally, Emma nodded and held out the key to him.

Killian didn’t really want the key, but he took it. Then he followed the girls inside the apartment, his nose immediately assaulted by the stale scent of old perfume, liniment and cat.

He grimaced as they walked into the living room with its fusty furniture and decorations. “Isn’t there somewhere else I could stay?”

“No,” Madison said, her nose wrinkling too. She didn’t care for this place any more than he did.

“I can’t stay here indefinitely.” He raised his hands, gesturing around him. Surely he could sway them. If he did have to stay in Boston, there had to be nicer accommodations. Hell, he could pay for a five-star hotel himself. He shot a look at the plastic-covered sofa. It would be money well spent.

“No, you can’t stay here indefinitely,” Daisy agreed. “Only until you fulfill the wish. So I guess you’d better figure out how to do that.”

With that, the girls trooped down the hall, leaving him in flower and doily hell. Just then the cat appeared, somehow managing to spring its amazing girth up onto the back of the chair. It hissed and swiped at him, missing.

Killian jumped back just as it lashed out again.

“I guess I’d be pretty pissy too, if this was my permanent residence.”

“Oh, I’m pissy. But not for the reasons you think.”

Killian stared at the cat, then blinked. He knew that voice.

“Vepar?”

The cat cocked its head. “Yes, in the fur.”

Poppy stared at the page of dry, technical writing, red pencil in hand. But she didn’t mark any changes, nor did she really even see what she was reading.

Finally she dropped the pencil in defeat, watching it roll across the desk. Her work was pretty tedious on the best of days, but today, it wasn’t holding her attention for even a paragraph.

She glanced at the clock on her computer monitor. Four-thirty. Rather early to start dinner, but puttering around in the kitchen was bound to be more distracting than the edits of
Milton’s Business Law, Eleventh Edition.

She pushed away from her desk, an antique piece made from mahogany, with carvings of swirls and ivy along the bottom and down the legs. It had been her father’s, and she loved it. Even though she never really enjoyed her work, she did like sitting in the very place where her father had done his research, or corrected papers, or written his essays on great pieces of art and their artists.

Usually that gave her a sense of peace, but not today.

She wandered through the living room to the kitchen. The whole apartment was filled with things from her parents’ house. Pictures, dishes, pieces of furniture, even her mother’s pots and pans.

Poppy went to the cupboard where she stored those very items and pulled out the stockpot that her mother had used for her specialties like fish chowder and chili and her amazing lentil soup.

Lentil soup. That’s what she’d make tonight, since she was starting dinner early enough. She began gathering the ingredients she needed, placing them on the soapstone countertop. Twice, she went to the pantry, only to stand staring at the stocked shelves, trying to remember what she’d been about to get.

It wasn’t like her to be so preoccupied. Over the last four years, she’d trained herself to be task oriented, organized, to live on a set schedule. She’d had to have routines to create a stable, healthy environment for Daisy.

But since the girls had told her about Killian’s disastrous love affair, her mind seemed to be skittering all over the place. To her own lost love. To losing hopes and letting go of dreams. She rarely allowed herself to consider what might have been. There was no point. But Killian’s story had triggered those thoughts.