She pondered that for a moment. “But
can
demons fly up your nose?”
“Not that I know of,” I said, then paused, considering the question more thoroughly. “But I do remember reading about an exorcist during the Roman conquest of Judea. In front of the emperor, he pulled a demon through a man’s nostril.”
“Not only is that absolutely disgusting,” Laura said, “but I’m completely impressed that you remembered it. I thought you said you were more interested in fighting than in reading.”
“I was,” I admitted. “But that didn’t mean I was exempt from the schoolwork part. And even in the realm of demon lore, that one’s just ooky enough to stick in your memory.”
She grimaced, then rubbed a hand under her nose. I laughed, catching my own hand rising to do the same thing.
“Okay, but we got totally sidetracked. What’s the Sword of Caelum?”
“The Sword of Heaven, if you translate from the Latin. Other than that, I have absolutely no idea,” I admitted. “But apparently the demons aren’t about to let me wield it.”
“Oh, one of those,” Laura said.
“One of what?”
“A cryptic comment. Demons make a lot of them.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “This time, I actually have a little more information,” I admitted. I relayed what Father Corletti had told me, filling her in on the salient points about my past encounter with Abaddon so that the full story would make sense.
“Well, hell,” she said.
“That pretty much sums it up,” I agreed. “I was perfectly content taking out the stray demon here and there. I absolutely don’t need another demon out there who thinks that I need to be eradicated from the face of the earth. I mean, I’ve got a party to plan.”
“That too,” Laura said loyally. “But what I meant was that it doesn’t sound like there’s much for me to do. Your peeps in Rome have already done all the research for you.”
“My peeps?” I repeated, amused. “And no, believe me. There’s a ton for you to do. Nobody in Rome can find anything about this supposed prophecy. But it must be out there. I mean, the demons must have some reason for thinking I’m their girl, right?”
“In other words,” she said, “I still have tons of research to do. Can’t
anything
in this business be simple?”
“Apparently not,” I said, fighting a grin. In truth, I wasn’t overly confident that Laura would find the answer hidden deep within the bowels of the Internet, especially considering that a whole gaggle of
Forza
researchers hadn’t managed as much. But stranger things had happened. Besides, Laura is the only woman I know who can find anything—
anything
—on sale somewhere in cyberspace. How many Vatican priests could locate a pair of vintage Chanel sunglasses half a continent away, haggle down to seventy percent off, and get the seller to kick in free shipping? I’m thinking none.
And if I could put that talent to work for me, so much the better.
Besides, I knew she wanted to help. And, frankly, I craved the solidarity.
She cocked her head, looking at me. “What are you grinning about?”
“I was trying to remember what you and I talked about before I got back in the game.”
“The PTA,” she began, counting on her fingers. “Bake sales, how to find fast and easy recipes, our husbands’ careers, our children’s grades, whether we needed to trade in for a bigger car, whether we were going to let our daughters get their driver’s licenses at sixteen, whether we were going to let our daughters date at sixteen. Or wear makeup at sixteen. Or—”
“Fair enough,” I said. “I remember. And you seem to remember in detail.” I paused, not sure I wanted to ask the next question. “Do you miss it? Not having, well,
that
as the focal point of our morning?” I pointed to the blue tub, once again with a full cadre of zombie parts.
“Are you kidding?” she said. “Life is so much more interesting now.”
“And dangerous,” I pointed out.
“There is that,” she admitted. “But Kate, you already know my answer. It’s the same for me as it is for you.”
“It is?” I’d been trained from childhood to be a Hunter. It was in my blood, in my life. And though I’d lived a few years as a normal mom in a normal family in a normal town, that didn’t mean the real me hadn’t been hiding under the surface. Clearly it had, because now that I was out of retirement, this wasn’t a life I wanted to give up. The job was too important. And, yes, I enjoyed the thrill.
“Paul and I got married right out of high school,” she began. “And I stayed at home and eventually we had a little girl, and life was good. I worked hard on the house. I did all the right things with Mindy’s schools. I was an active mom, a supportive wife. I did absolutely everything I could to build up this marriage for us. You know?”
I nodded, not at all sure where she was going with this. “And then one day I find out the bastard’s been having an affair. I’ve put my heart and soul into a marriage that’s been an illusion all along. It wasn’t real because it was one-sided.”
“I’m not—”
She held up a hand. “What you do—what I do when I help you—it’s important. As important as it gets. And that’s not something I can have an illusion about, you know? I was fooling myself with Paul—or he was fooling me—but not this. Not now. We’re fighting evil. The Big Bad. And when you get right down to it, I think that’s pretty damn amazing. ” She shot me a smile, her cheeks slightly flushed. “So, no. I don’t miss it. Besides,” she added with a nod to my Easter-paraphernalia-covered table, “if you think that the PTA and the kids and volunteer bake sales aren’t on our radar anymore, then you need to crawl out of your hole. Because I’ll research for you until the wee hours of the morning. But I am
not
stuffing Easter eggs all by myself.”
“Fair enough,” I said, a little humbled that she did get it. For better or for worse, we were in this together, and for all the right reasons. “Let’s decorate ten of these baskets and then I’ll turn you loose to figure out this sword thing.”
“It’s a plan,” she said, reaching for a spool of silver ribbon. “What are you going to do about that guy?” she asked, pointing to our dismembered friend.
“The cathedral. Where else? In fact, I should probably go now, just in case Stuart decides to come home for lunch or something.” I gave her the lowdown on my husband’s recent burst of togetherness—our romantic interlude this morning, his invitation to a movie, and our quick trip to scope out the mansion.
“Not very Stuart-like,” she said. “At least not since the campaign started.”
“I know,” I said. “Nerves? Election jitters?”
“I’m voting for guilt or worry,” Laura announced.
“About what?”
“About spending so much time away from you,” she said. “That’s the guilt part.”
“And the worry?”
She shrugged and reached for a blue M&M. “Maybe he’s picking up on the fact that you’re keeping secrets.”
“It’s probably nothing,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “Why does it have to be one or the other? I mean, he
is
my husband, and he
does
love me.”
“And he so often invites you to movies in the middle of the day, right?”
“Oh, hell,” I said. “It’s gotta be the guilt thing, right? I mean, I’m careful. He can’t have a clue. Can he?”
“You need to tell him,” Laura said, and not for the first time.
“I know,” I said. “And I plan to. I just don’t know when.”
“Figure it out,” she said. “Or else it’s gonna come back to bite you on the butt.”
I nodded. I’d figured out on my own that my butt was in danger. But that didn’t mean I’d figured out the best way to handle it.
I pointed to the zombie. “Right now, I’m going to worry about him. You’ll stay and watch the kids?”
“Of course.”
I grabbed the tub and hefted it. “Catch the door for me?”
“I can’t believe I picked up a tub filled with an entire body. I actually went to the gym twice last week,” she added wryly. “I guess those damn workouts are paying off.”
“That’s just the nature of zombies,” I said. “Extremely light. Extremely strong.”
“Nature or not, it’s still pretty funky.”
“The situation is funky,” I corrected. “And I might be a bit skewed in my opinion by the fact that I’ve had to haul several dead demons to the cathedral over the past few months. But to me, the fact that the zombie is light and easily portable isn’t funky, it’s a perk.”
“Can’t argue with that,” she said, propping the front door open with her foot, then grabbing my keys off the entryway table.
She followed me down the sidewalk to the driveway, then opened the rear of the Odyssey. The tub slid easily in, and I closed the back door. If only I’d known back when we bought this thing how useful it was going to be for hauling around monsters and demons.
As I turned back around, Eddie strolled up the driveway. “Hold up a minute there, girlie.”
“I thought you were at the library.”
“Was,” he said in a hushed tone. “Now I’m watching our mysterious stranger.”
“What mysterious stranger?” Laura asked, her voice normal.
“Hush, woman! Don’t you know they sometimes got extra-keen hearing?”
Laura’s mouth curved into a little frown. “Actually, I didn’t know that.”
“Who?” I asked, before we could get off on a tangent. The question, though, wasn’t necessary. A simple glance across the street, and I knew exactly who Eddie was talking about. A tall, lanky man in ill-fitting clothes, with dark hair and an olive complexion.
“Demon?” I asked.
“Could be. Noticed him when I was leaving,” Eddie said. “Kinda creeping around. Don’t live on this street or yours,” he said, pointing to Laura. “Got a nose for these things. Can’t stay alive long as I have without being able to sniff out trouble. ”
“So you’ve stayed here watching him?” I prompted.
“Hell, no,” Eddie said. “I went to the library. Told you I thought Tammy was working.”
“But I thought you said you knew he was trouble,” Laura said.
“That’s what you got this one for,” Eddie said, hooking a thumb at me.
I caught Laura’s eye and gave the slightest shake of my head. With Eddie, it was best not to pursue these things.
“So what brought you back?” I asked.
“Schedule got changed, so Tammy’s not on today after all. Talked to Imogene for a bit, but she’s a fruity old bat, and I couldn’t see much use to hang around the library, so I headed on back—”
“—and our friend is still here,” I finished.
“Like I said. Suspicious.”
“So what do we do?” Laura asked.
“Oh, that one’s easy,” Eddie said. “We kill the bastard.”
Nine
I grabbed hold of Eddie’s
elbow, tugging him back. Our interloper might be a demon, sure. He might also be lost, visiting friends, or just plain nosy. Irritating and rude, maybe, but not necessarily demonic. “How about we try something a little less dramatic,” I suggested.
“Eh? Like what?”
“Something radical and unexpected,” I said. “Like asking him what he’s doing.”
He snorted. “Well, sure. If you’re gonna be all pansy-ass about it.”
I caught Laura’s eye, and for a moment I feared for her safety. She was laughing so hard, I was certain she would fall to the ground and bang her head on the cement.
“Wait here,” I said to both of them.
The mysterious stranger glanced toward us once while we were talking, but when I turned my head in his direction, he was studiously looking everywhere but at my house. And the instant I stepped into the street, he started walking down the sidewalk. Definitely suspicious. I crossed at a diagonal, reaching into my purse for the pump bottle of hair spray I’d cleaned out and filled with holy water. I sprayed a bit on both palms, then replaced the bottle and closed my hand around my knife, keeping the blade concealed inside my bag.
Mystery man walked faster, and I hurried to catch up, finally intercepting him in front of Wanda Abernathy’s house.
“Hi,” I said, sticking my hand out and trying to look like a friendly—if pushy—suburban mom. “I noticed you looked a little lost, and I thought maybe I could help.”
“I . . . oh. Yes.” He took my hand, and there was no sizzling, popping, or burning. In the demon-hunting world, that’s a good thing. I still didn’t know who the stranger was, but at least I knew he wasn’t a demon.
“You are most kind,” he said with a hint of Eastern European accent. Prague, maybe? I couldn’t be sure. “But I am not lost.”
“Deidre? Is that you, honey?”
I turned and found Mrs. Abernathy standing in her doorway holding an umbrella and a can of Lysol. “It’s me, Kate. From across the street. Sorry if we’re bothering you.”
“Is he a friend of yours, dear? Because I was just about to call the police. I can’t abide loitering. Too many people loitering in my yard lately. Hiding in the bushes. Creeping up the steps. Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable!”