Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon Hunting Soccer Mom

Chapter Eleven

He shook his head. By the time he spoke, he seemed remarkably calmer. “No. No, I didn’t know the boy. I am just—” He cut himself off, and I watched as he clenched his fists, all his attention focused once again on the newspaper. “This should not be happening.”

“I know,” I said, then sighed. I’d already done the anger and fear thing. Now I’d succumbed to a feeling of cold inevitability. I figured Larson would get there, too, soon enough. “San Diablo has always been demon-free. At least, I always thought it was. Maybe I was just blind.”

Larson waved a hand. “The past doesn’t matter. Did you have any luck in the archives?”

I shook my head. “There’s a lot of information down there,” I said. “It’s going to take a while to go through it.”

He nodded, but didn’t look happy. Him and me both. I was the one battling bugs. “We must work swiftly,” he said. “It is imperative we learn what Goramesh seeks.”

We were talking in low whispers, but apparently not low enough. Someone I didn’t recognize walked into the kitchen, leading with an empty martini glass. “Don’t know this Goramesh fellow. Is he seeking the county attorney seat? Stuart’s gonna shit a brick if there’s some contender out there he doesn’t know about.”

I stared at him, not sure what I was more astounded by—the fact that he’d overheard us, or the fact that he was running around a party using the kind of language I always swore would earn Allie a monthlong grounding.

“Something altogether different,” I said in my best hostess voice as I grabbed him by the elbow and steered him back toward the living room.

“Wait, wait,” he protested, then held up his glass. “Gin?”

“Sure. No problem.” I retrieved a fresh bottle from the pantry, then made sure my newfound friend made his way back to the party. I was mentally calculating the cost of calling taxis for all the overindulgent guests as I led Larson into the garage. There, at least, I thought we’d have some privacy.

“I need to be out there,” I said. “Or Forza needs to get on the stick and wrestle up some more Hunters. I can’t do all of this. I can’t scour the cathedral archives and stay up all night racing around to fight demon-dog hordes and get my laundry done and my kids to school and my family fed.” I paused, not because I was finished talking but because I needed to breathe. “This is bad, Larson. This is really, really bad.”

“Deep breaths, Kate.”

I held up a hand. “I know. I’m fine. I’m just pissed. That boy couldn’t have been more than eighteen. In a few years Allie could have been dating him. He’s not supposed to be ravaged by demons. He’s supposed to be fighting acne and studying for midterms.” I ran my fingers through my hair, a bad move since I managed to totally dislodge it from the clip, creating what was surely a less than stellar party look.

I took another deep breath and closed my eyes. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have even blinked at the idea of teenagers getting picked off by rampant demons running amok in the city streets. That had been par for the course. But that was a long time ago, before I’d had a teenager of my own. And now the idea of anyone—anyone—messing with my kids terrified me.

I'll do a quick run through town after everyone’s in bed,” I said. “It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing, right? And you can talk to Forza, and maybe Father Corletti can send someone else along. We can beg, right? Even a recent trainee. I don’t care. Just tell him we can use some help here.”

“Kate.” He had his hand on my shoulder. “Focus on the key. Goramesh. Find what he seeks. That is where your attention needs to lie.”

I stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?’