Lucky me.
“So what have you learned about the sword?” I asked, hoping to bump her mood up a notch. Mine had already elevated simply because of the mostly empty state of the parking lot. I got a prime parking space and, with any luck, the traffic in the aisles would be thin.
“Not much,” she said.
“How about this enemy of mine who wants to become The One?”
“Same answer,” she admitted, pulling out a shopping cart shaped like a blue race car and holding it steady while I strapped in her brother. “I’ve been reading through those reports you gave me, and you’ve got a buttload of enemies out there in demonland.”
“Allie.”
“Well, you do.”
“Language.”
“All I said was ‘butt.’ ”
I aimed the mommy look at her, and she grimaced.
“Sorry. You have a whole bunch of enemies out there. Better? ”
“Much,” I said, though I silently conceded that “buttload” more accurately conveyed the scope of the situation.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter because it could be any one of them. I mean, all the bigwig demons seem to want to be super-demon-dude, you know?”
I did indeed.
“Well, keep at it,” I said. “Maybe something will jump out at you.”
“Hopefully not a demon,” she said, then laughed at her own joke.
I fought my own grin and realized with a start that I was enjoying having my daughter follow in my footsteps. The insight gave me pause. I’d always told myself I wanted my kids to have a normal life. So why was I suddenly cultivating my teenage daughter’s desire to get out there and fight the good fight? Was I being a good mom, factoring in my child’s wants and desires while still trying to keep some semblance of control to keep her safe? Or was I being selfish, reveling in her desire to be like me and wanting to increase the bonds that tied us together?
I didn’t know, and I can’t say I much liked the question. At the end of the day, all I knew was that I wanted my kids safe and warm and alive. But with every day I allowed Allie to train to hunt demons, wasn’t I taking a giant step backwards? Because no matter how much I told myself that she was only doing research, safely ensconced in her bedroom at home, the deep, dark truth was that a day would come when that wouldn’t be enough. And on that day, she’d either listen to me or defy me, just like any normal teenager.
Unlike any normal teenager, though, defiance in the demon-hunting world could mean death. And that wasn’t an endgame I even wanted to think about.
“Mom? Hello? Earth to Mom.”
I jerked myself back to the present. “Sorry. What?”
“Shopping, remember? I asked if we needed veggies.”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
Her eyes widened. “So what are you feeding these people? Chef Boyardee?”
“Same idea, different class,” I admitted. I’d told Stuart he could host a dinner party at the house, and I even said I’d cook, an activity that required all of my concentration to come out even remotely edible.
Because lately my concentration had been divided, I’d decided to take the easy way out. And that meant aiming the shopping cart to the specialty foods section. More expensive, but as they say in the commercials, I’m worth it. A sentiment I’m sure Stuart would agree with if he understood that his choice was between edible and delicious on the one hand and shoe-leather meat with squishy vegetables on the other.
The specialty counter was blissfully free, and as I ran through my menu choices with the girl behind the counter, Allie amused Timmy by pretending to be a traffic cop while he spun the steering wheel in his cart like a wild thing. Hopefully he’d give that up sometime between now and age sixteen. Either that, or I’d have to face the harsh reality that my little tyke was going to be driving in NASCAR.
“Okay,” I said, once I’d filled the cart with an assortment of foil-covered trays and pans. “A few more things and then we’re on our way home.”
I stood there a second to get my bearings, and as I did, the phone rang. I checked the Caller ID then flipped the phone open. “Insanity central.”
“You must be at the grocery store,” Stuart said. “I tried home first and no one was there.”
“Really? I expected Eddie home by now. He has more stamina than I give him credit for.”
“Where is he?”
“Hot date last night,” I said, and Stuart chuckled.
“I’ve got to give the man his props,” my husband said. “He constantly surprises me.”
“Doesn’t he just. So what’s up?” I asked, switching gears. “Are you at the airport? I saw you on television yesterday morning. I’d say you have the female vote locked up.”
“Good to know,” he said. “And no, I’m still up north.”
The cold chill of panic settled over me. “Could you repeat that?”
“Don’t panic,” he said.
“Too late,” I countered. “You promised you’d be home in plenty of time to help.”
“Kate, I don’t have wings. They canceled the flight.”
“Shit,” I said, with absolutely no remorse about cursing in front of the kids.
“I’ll be home by six forty-five. I swear.”
“Oh, good,” I said. “A whole fifteen minutes before people are scheduled to arrive. And here I thought I’d be doing the whole thing without you.”
“I love you,” he said.
“You better.” I made kiss-kiss noises, then signed off, my mood deteriorating rapidly. The kids, perhaps sensing the approaching storm, stayed remarkably quiet as I steered the cart to the alcohol aisle. I wanted to stock up. Because believe me, as soon as the first guest arrived, I was making myself a cocktail.
After filling the cart with vodka, gin, wine, beer, and an assortment of mixers, I went searching for treats for the munchkin, planning ahead for the inevitable child bribery it would take to get dinner pulled together without ripping out all my hair.
“Cheddar Bunnies!” Timmy yelled, breaking his vow of ritual silence as we turned down the cookie and cracker aisle. “Please! Please! Cheddar Bunnies and round crackers!”
Round crackers were Ritz, and because I could justify buying those by also buying something to top them with (which would also reduce my guilt level as I would have “cooked” an appetizer), I agreed.
I tossed the crackers and the bunnies in the cart, then ran down my mental inventory. It was a safe bet we were out of milk, so I told Allie to hold the fort with her brother while I scurried over to the dairy aisle to grab a gallon, all the while praying that Timmy wouldn’t throw a fit.
No such luck.
I returned to hear my son’s loud, indignant cry of “No, no, no!
Mommy!
Stinky! Stinky! Stop! Stop!”
I didn’t have a clue what could possibly be stinky, but as I was sure the other store patrons weren’t interested in hearing about Timmy’s olfactory issues, I hurried the rest of the way into the aisle, my pace increasing exponentially when I heard Allie’s sharp, panicked cry of “
Mom!
”
I raced around the corner, coming to a screeching halt when I saw Wanda Abernathy—no longer looking pale and feeble—standing right behind my son with a barbecue fork, courtesy of the accessories aisle, its tines pressed tight against my little boy’s throat. A wave of nausea crashed over me, both from the danger to my son and from the fact that mere hours ago, this woman had been in my house. Had been alive and human and having fun with my children.
Allie stood stock-still about four feet away, obviously not sure what to do. Her eyes caught mine, and when she blinked, I saw a tear trickle slowly down her cheek.
It will be okay.
No matter what, I was determined that this demon bitch wasn’t hurting Timmy. No matter what,
that
wasn’t happening.
I needed to do something fast, though. Right then, we were the only people in the aisle. If someone joined us, I didn’t want to think what Wanda would do.
“Give me the sword and the boy lives,” she said, in a sickly sweet version of Wanda’s voice. “For the time being, anyway.”
“What makes you think I have it?”
“You are the one. The prophecy foretells and the signs bring certainty. He comes, and the path must be cleared.” She smiled then, the way Wanda had when she saw a child on the street. “Give us the sword or the boy dies. The choice is yours.” She turned, looking hard at Allie. “The girl, too, though her death will come slowly. Painfully. One strip of skin at a time.”
The blood drained from Allie’s face, and I fought the instinct to go to her and pull her close. “Keep your filthy hands off my children.”
“Give me the sword and I will,” she said, Wanda’s voice so sweet and clear it made me want to cry.
I looked at Timmy, so vulnerable. I don’t think he would have been scared were it not for the stricken expressions on the faces of his mom and sister. But that was enough, and he was sitting perfectly still, tears streaming down his face.
Then again, maybe he did understand the danger; I’d never once seen Timmy sit still.
“All right,” I said, getting more and more afraid that someone would soon join us.
“Mom!”
I held up a hand. “No. It’s just the sword. It doesn’t matter if they have it. I’ve stopped demons without an enchanted sword a hundred times over. I can do it again, I’m sure.”
“But you—”
“I’ve made my decision, Allie,” I said sharply. “I’m not risking your brother or you.”
She pressed her lips together meekly, then looked down at the floor, presumably to hide her expression—finally!—of comprehension.
As for me, I looked at Wanda. “It’s in my car. Seemed safer than keeping it in the house. That’s what you were looking for, wasn’t it? Not the bathroom.”
“Clever girl,” she said, as my heart squeezed tight. I understood everything now. Wanda’s comments about being watched. Her ill health at my house. And her fumbling attempts to search for the bedroom.
Wanda had been in the demons’ sights. They’d needed someone who could get close to me, not so much to fight, but to search. And when Wanda had passed away in her home after leaving my house—whether naturally or with a demonic push—a demon had stepped into the void, then returned, determined to find the sword that was supposedly hidden in my house.
“We go now,” the abomination said, and I swear I hated the demons even more for violating the physical shell of that sweet old woman.
My keys were in my pocket, but I considered reaching into my purse for my knife. I could do it—I knew I could. But with Timmy right there, I didn’t dare.
“Get it yourself,” I said, tossing the keys in Wanda’s general direction. And as Allie gaped at me, I said a silent prayer that she’d get with the program. With Eric, I wouldn’t have worried. But though Allie might be his daughter, she was a long way from being my partner.
The demon reached up, taking a step back as she grabbed for the keys. As she did, I lunged for the cart, yanking hard and sending it rolling toward me.
Allie, bless her, got into the game, knocking Wanda’s teeth out (literally) with a well-placed crescent kick that sent teeth and keys skidding down the aisle, ending up underneath a section of metal shelving.
Not to be outdone, I grabbed a bottle of vodka out of the cart, took aim, and hurled it at Wanda’s head. It hit with a satisfying
thwack
, then shattered on the concrete floor.
That’s when I really did reach for the knife, my hand closing around it before I realized that a body in the grocery store would cause more problems than it solved.
Wanda, realizing she’d lost her advantage, took off running. Allie started after her, but I lunged forward and caught her sleeve. “No. Let her go.”
“But she—and Timmy—and—and—”
“I know,” I said, rushing to unstrap Timmy and cuddle him close. “But let her go.”
About that time, a guy wearing a red shirt with the store logo emblazoned on the breast pocket came tearing around the aisle, skidding to a stop when he saw the smashed bottle of vodka. “They said they heard shouts two aisles over.”
“Some crazy lady tried to kidnap my brother,” Allie improvised. “She was completely freaked out. And when we wouldn’t let her take Timmy, she tossed a bottle of vodka at us.”
“No kidding?” The kid looked to me for confirmation and I nodded. “Are you okay?”
We assured him that we were, and while the kid called for cleanup on aisle four, we beat a hasty retreat, pausing only long enough for Allie to lie on her belly and retrieve my keys.
Ten minutes and several hundred dollars later, we were all huddled in the van, now missing a front windshield because Wanda had apparently taken me at my word. Since the destruction of my vehicle had started happening on a more or less regular basis, I had my AAA card ready, along with the number of a local car rental place.
“Do you think she’s coming again?” Allie said, once we were settled in the rental.