The Demon You Know Page 4
“What?” I asked as Allie hung up.
“Stuart said it was okay with him if I spent the night at Mindy’s. Can I? Please?”
I ran my fingers through my hair and tried not to fantasize about killing my husband. The reasonable side of me screamed that he was only trying to help. The annoyed side of me retorted that he’d just sent my help packing, and I now had to clean the house, cook dinner, and keep Timmy entertained all on my own.
“Pleeeeeeze?”
“Fine. Sure. Great idea.” I started pushing the cart toward the dairy aisle while Timmy babbled something entirely unintelligible. “You can get your stuff and head to Mindy’s as soon as we get home.”
She did a little hop-skip number, then threw her arms around my neck. “Thanks, Mom! You’re the best”
“Mmmm. Remember this the next time you’re grounded.”
She pointed at her chest, her face ultra-innocent “Me? In trouble? I think you have me confused with some other daughter.”
I tried to scowl, but didn’t quite manage it, and she knew she’d won me over. Well, what the heck. I was a woman of the new millennium. I’d staked vampires, defeated demons, and incapacitated incubi. How hard could a last-minute dinner party be?
Mindy Dupont lives at our exact address, only one street over. Once the girls became inseparable, Laura Dupont and I followed suit, and now she’s more like a sister than a neighbor. I knew she wouldn’t care if Allie stayed over, so I didn’t bother calling ahead. I just bought a chocolate cake for bribery/thank-you purposes, then added it to Allie’s pile as she set off across our connecting backyards to Laura’s patio. (They’re not technically connected. A paved city easement runs between us, and it’s fenced off on both sides. Last year Stuart convinced the city that they should install gates on either side, so as to facilitate any city workers who might need to get back there. I’ve never once seen a utility man wandering behind my house, but those gates have sure made life easier for me, Laura, and the girls. Have I mentioned I adore my husband?)
A little less than ten minutes later I had Timmy settled in front of a Wiggles video, and I was pushing a dust mop over our hardwood floors, trying to get all the nooks and crannies a judge might notice, and ignoring all the other spots. I was pretty certain there was a dust bunny convention under the sofa, but until the conventioneers started wandering out into the rest of the house, I wasn’t going to worry about it.
The phone rang, and I lunged for it.
“Allie says you’re doing the dinner party thing. Need help?”
As much as I loved her, Laura was an even more harried hostess than I was. “I’ve got it all under control. My clothes are laid out, the sauce is simmering, the appetizers are on cookie sheets ready to go in the oven, and I even managed to find eight wineglasses.” I took a deep breath. “And they match.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little Martha Stewart? In the pre-scandal, domestic-goddess days, of course. And the munchkin?”
“In his jammies in front of the television.”
“All finished with bathtime?”
“No bath. Extra videos.”
She released a long-suffering sigh. “Finally, a flaw. Now I don’t have to hate you after all.”
I laughed. “Hate me all you want for managing to pull this together. It’s a feat worthy of your hatred.” I didn’t point out that I hadn’t actually pulled it off yet. I wasn’t counting this evening as a success until the guests went home happy, patting their tummies and promising Stuart all sorts of political favors. “Just don’t hate me for dumping Allie on you. You sure it’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah. They’re locked in Mindy’s room trying out all my Clinique samples. If they get bored, we’ll go get ice cream. But I don’t see boredom in their future. I’ve got two years’ worth of samples in that box. I figure that works out to at least four hours of free time. I’m going to make some popcorn, pop in one of my old Cary Grant videos, and wait up for Paul.”
“Oh, sure, rub it in,” I said.
She laughed. “You’ve got your own Cary Grant”
“And he’ll be home soon. I’d better run.”
She clicked off after making me promise to call if I needed anything. But for once, I actually had it under control. Amazing. I tucked the dust mop in the utility closet, then headed back to take a final look at the living room. Comfortable and presentable. Some might even say it had a casual elegance. The dancing dinosaur on the television screen really didn’t add to the ambience, but I’d close up the entertainment center as soon as Timmy went to bed.
I was running through my mental checklist as I headed back into the kitchen. A flash of movement outside the kitchen window caught my attention, and I realized I’d forgotten to feed Kabit, our cat.
I considered waiting until after the party, decided that wasn’t fair, then crossed to the breakfast area where we keep the cat food bowl on a little mat next to the table. I’d just bent to pick up the water dish when the sound of shattering glass filled the room.
I was upright almost instantly, but that wasn’t good enough. The old man from Wal-Mart bounded through the wrecked window, surprisingly agile for an octogenarian, and launched himself at me. We tumbled to the ground, rolling across the floor and into the actual kitchen, until we finally came to a stop by the stove. He was on top of me, his bony hands pinning down my wrists, and his face over mine. His breath reeked of rancid meat and cooked cauliflower, and I made a vow to never, ever ignore my instincts again.
“Time to die, Hunter,” he said, his voice low and breathy and not the least bit old-sounding.
A little riffle of panic shot through my chest. He shouldn’t know I used to be a Hunter. I was retired. New last name. New hometown. This was bad. And his words concerned me a heck of a lot more than the kill-fever I saw in his eyes.
I didn’t have time to worry about it, though, because the guy was shifting his hands from my wrists to my neck, and I had absolutely no intention of getting caught in a death grip.
As he shifted his weight, I pulled to the side, managing to free up my leg. I brought it up, catching his groin with my knee. He howled, but didn’t let go. That’s the trouble with demons; kneeing them in the balls just doesn’t have the effect it should. Which meant I was still under him, smelling his foul breath, and frustrated as hell because I didn’t need this shit. I had a dinner to fix.
From the living room, I heard Timmy yelling, “Momma! Momma! Big noise! Big noise!” and I knew he was abandoning the video to come find out where the big noise came from.
I couldn’t remember if I’d closed the baby gate, and there was no way my two-year-old was going to see his mom fighting a demon. I might be out of practice, but right then, I was motivated. “I’ll be right there!” I yelled, then pulled on every resource in my body and flipped over, managing to hop on Pops. I scraped at his face, aiming for his eyes, but only scratched his skin.
He let out a wail that sounded as if it came straight from the depths of hell, and lurched toward me. I sprang back and up, surprised and at the same time thrilled that I was in better shape than I realized. I made a mental note to go to the gym more often even as I kicked out and caught him in the chin. My thigh screamed in pain, and I knew I’d pay for this in the morning.
Another screech from the demon, this time harmonized by Timmy’s cries and the rattle of the baby gate that was, thank God, locked. Pops rushed me, and I howled as he slammed me back against the granite countertops. One hand was tight around my throat, and I struggled to breathe, lashing out to absolutely no effect.
The demon laughed, his eyes filled with so much pleasure that it pissed me off even more. “Useless bitch,” he said, his foul breath on my face. “You may as well die, Hunter. You surely will when my master’s army rises to claim victory in his name.”
That didn’t sound good, but I couldn’t think about it right then. The lack of oxygen was getting to me. I was confused, my head swimming, everything starting to fade to a blackish purple.
But then Timmy’s howls dissolved into whimpers. A renewed burst of anger and fear gave me strength. My hand groped along the counter until I found a wineglass. My fingers closed around it, and I slammed it down, managing to break off the base.
The room was starting to swim, and I needed to breathe desperately. I had one chance, and one chance only. With all the strength I could muster I slammed the stem of the wineglass toward his face, then sagged in relief when I felt it hit home, slipping through the soft tissue of his eyeball with very little resistance.
I heard a whoosh and saw the familiar shimmer as the demon was sucked out of the old man, and then the body collapsed to my floor. I sagged against my counter, drawing gallons of air into my lungs. As soon as I felt steady again, I focused on the corpse on my newly cleaned floor and sighed. Unlike in the movies, demons don’t dissolve in a puff of smoke or ash, and right as I was staring down at the body, wondering how the heck I was going to get rid of it before the party, I heard the familiar squeak of the patio door, and then Allie’s frantic voice in the living room. “Mom! Mom!”
Timmy’s yelps joined my daughter’s, and I closed my eyes and prayed for strength.
“Don’t come in here, sweetie. I broke some glass and it’s all over the floor.” As I talked, I hoisted my dead foe by the underarms and dragged him to the pantry. I slid him inside and slammed the door.
“What?” Allie said, appearing around the corner with Timmy in her arms.
I counted to five and decided this wasn’t the time to lecture my daughter about listening or following directions. “I said don’t come in here.” I moved quickly toward her, blocking her path. “There’s glass all over the place.”
“Jeez, Mom.” Her eyes were wide as she took in the mess that was now my kitchen. “Guess you can’t give me any more grief about my room, huh?”
I rolled my eyes.
She glanced at the big picture window behind our breakfast table. The one that no longer had glass. “What happened?”
“Softball,” I said. “Just crashed right through.”
“Wow. I guess Brian finally hit a homer, huh?”
“Looks that way.” Nine-year-old Brian lived next door and played softball in his backyard constantly. I felt a little guilty blaming the mess on him, but I’d deal with that later.
“I’ll get the broom.”
She plunked Timmy onto his booster seat, then headed for the pantry. I caught her arm. “I’ll take care of it, sweetie.”
“But you’ve got the party!”
“Exactly. And that’s why I need to be able to focus.” That really made no sense, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Listen, just put Timmy to bed for me, then head on back to Mindy’s. Really. I’ll be fine.”
She looked unsure. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. It’s all under control. Why’d you come back, anyway?”
“I forgot my new CD.”
I should have guessed. I picked Timmy back up (who, thankfully, was quiet now and watching the whole scene with interest). “Put the munchkin down and you’ll be doing me a huge favor.”
She frowned, but didn’t argue as she took Timmy from me.
“Night, sweetie,” I said, then gave both her and Timmy a kiss.
She still looked dubious, but she readjusted her grip on Timmy and headed toward the stairs. I let out a little sigh of relief and glanced at the clock. I had exactly forty-three minutes to clean up the mess in my kitchen, dispose of a dead demon, and pull together a dinner party. After that, I could turn my attention to figuring out what a demon was doing in San Diablo. And, more important, why he had attacked me.
But first, the rigatoni.
Did I have my priorities straight, or what?
Want to read more? Grab a copy of Carpe Demon right now! Or learn more about the series at www.DemonHuntingSoccerMom.com!
Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom Series!
Don’t miss any of these titles in this bestselling series that’s in development as a major motion picture!
Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
“This book, as crammed with events as any suburban mom’s calendar, shows you what would happen if Buffy got married and kept her past a secret. It’s a hoot.”—Charlaine Harris, New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series
Kate Connor is your average, everyday mom with two kids, a husband, and one very big secret … she used to be a Demon-Hunter. Now retired, she’s more interested in the domestic than the demonic. So when she catches sight of a demon in Wal-Mart, she tells herself it’s some other Hunter’s problem. But when that demon attacks her in her kitchen, retirement is no longer an option.
Now Kate has to kick a little demon butt, figure out why the creatures are trying to take her out and take over her home town, and at the same time take care of her 2 year old, deal with a hormonal 14 year old, and try to keep her past a secret from her daughter and her husband.
She’s a little out of practice, but hey … if she can juggle two kids and an impromptu dinner party, ridding the town of demons should be a piece of cake. Like the saying goes, Carpe Demon … and Kate intends to do just that.
Get your copy of Carpe Demon now!
California Demon: The Secret Life of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
“Ninety-nine percent of the wives and moms in the country will identify with this heroine. I mean, like who hasn’t had to battle demons between car pools and play dates?” Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author
After fourteen years as a stay-at-home mom, Kate Connor has finally rejoined the workforce. But unlike most working moms, Kate can’t rearrange her home obligations to fit the needs of her job. Well, not easily, anyway. And not without a few little white lies.
Because the truth is, no one in her family has any clue that she’s returned to the job of her youth. Which means no late nights working beside her husband at the kitchen table while the kids watch television. Although, when you think about it, that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Because when your job is fighting demons, taking your work home with you is a really, really bad idea …
Demons Are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
Once again, Kate Connor has a problem. Several, actually.
For one thing, her daughter has figured out that mom is a Demon-Hunter—and wants to be just like her when she grows up.
And there’s that nagging suspicion that her dead husband has come back to life in the body of another man. Plus, her living husband still doesn’t know her secrets.
Not to mention the fact that she’s acquired a mystical item that the entire demon community seems hell-bent on reclaiming.
It’s all in a day’s work for this stay-at-home mom. But one thing is for certain: sometimes life in the suburbs really can be hell.
Deja Demon: The Days and Nights of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
Kate Conner is an expert at multi-tasking. Wife, mom, Demon-Dunter. She can stuff hundreds of Easter eggs for the neighborhood fair and still have enough energy to pummel a demon back into the ether.
But Kate’s life has gotten more complicated…
Her first husband has returned from the dead in the body of her daughter’s chemistry teacher. Different body, same hot desire for Kate. Her daughter now obsesses about becoming a Demon-Hunter the way she used to obsess about boys.
And her current husband is suddenly very suspicious of his wife’s extra-domestic activities. What is she doing and who is she doing it with?
And the threat has gotten bigger…
A powerful high demon has returned to San Diablo, seeking not only the key to invincibility, but revenge upon Kate—and Kate’s family. And just in case that wasn’t trouble enough, there’s a new kind of evil in suburbia. The walking dead kind.
And they don’t mind making house calls…
Get your copy of Deja Demon now!
Demon Ex Machina: Tales of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom
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p; Demon-unter Kate Connor is having a very bad month.
Her resurrected first husband houses the soul of a demon.
Her current husband is being overly attentive to the point of smothering.
Her toddler son has entered a tantrum phase.
And her teenage daughter is still determined to be the next, best demon slayer. Worse, she’s determined to get her learner’s permit the day she turns fifteen.
That’s a lot for one woman to juggle, even a Demon-Hunter. Add saving the world to the mix, and things are about to get complicated…
Coming to digital September 2013
The Demon You Know (a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom Short Story)
When daughter Allie finds herself knee-deep in demons, Demon Hunter Kate Connor must come to the rescue in this first short story featuring not only Kate, but fourteen year old Allie, too!
And more titles coming … Visit www.demonhuntingsoccermom.com to learn more!
Julie’s Booklist
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