Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon Hunting Soccer Mom

Chapter Six

“Like hell you are,” I said, keeping the plastic sword just millimeters from his eyeball. We were on the ground, my other arm tight around his neck, his head pressed near my chest. If he moved, my makeshift weapon would penetrate the sclera to sink deep into the vitreous fluid like a hot knife through butter. If he were a demon, he’d be dead. Human, he’d be blind.

At the moment that was a risk I was willing to take.

“Kate, think about what you’re doing. Forza sent me to assist you.” He pulled back away from the sword, his head pressing against my breasts. He was cold with fear, practically trembling.

I tightened my grip around his neck. “Explain yourself,” I said. “Explain the dinner party.”

Nothing. Just silence. I gave him a little shake, meant to jostle his enthusiasm for spilling his story.

“Test,” he finally sputtered, the word so low and raw I could barely understand.

I released my hold on his neck just a little, but my fingers tightened around the Happy Meal toy. “Bullshit.”

He coughed, started to speak, then coughed again. I steeled myself to remain unmoved by his apparent discomfort.

“Talk,” I said.

“You’ve been out of touch for a while. I needed to know what we were dealing with. How much training you needed. What your skill level was.”

“So you came to my house and impersonated a demon? I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.” He cleared his throat and sucked in a breath. I realized I’d loosened my hold even more. “You passed that test at least.” He started to get up, but I jerked him back. He winced. “Although I may still modify that grade.”

“You deliberately baited me. The breath. The comments.”

“The breath I’ll concede,” he said. “A week of eating garlic and not brushing my teeth. The comments, though ...”

He trailed off.

“What?”

“I never said a single thing that was damning. You assumed I was a demon and heard what you wanted to hear.”

I tried to think back over the evening, to see if what he said was true. But it was too much of a blur. All I could remember was what he’d said about Allie—that he’d been sorry he hadn’t met her. That she was probably a lot like me.

Shit.

He was right. Unless he was one of Satan’s minions, that was pretty damn innocuous.

Without letting go, I leaned over and took a good long sniff. He opened his mouth helpfully. Minty fresh.

I released the hold from around his neck, and he sat up, rubbing his shoulders and doing head rolls.

“Apology accepted,” he said.

“I haven’t apologized.” I kept the toy poised near his face. I was pretty sure he was okay, but I wasn’t positive.

He groaned, either in frustration or pain, I couldn’t tell, and shifted slightly to the left. “Refilled your supply?”

I had no idea what he was talking about, then I turned in the direction he was looking. My checkbook was lying open near the base of a bench, a vial of holy water half-buried beneath it. I couldn’t reach it without letting him go, and I did a quick run-through of my options. It might be a trick. He might be planning on attacking me (or running like hell) the moment I let go. But since I couldn’t sit there forever, that was a risk I was going to have to take.