More Than Fiends (23 page)

“You'd never get close enough,” Devlin assured me, moving in so that I could practically feel the buttons on his blue shirt pressing into my chest. “As crazy as it sounds, I don't want anything happening to you.”

Oh boy. I really wanted to believe that.

“Trust me,” I said on a deep breath, lifting my gaze to his. “I'll get close enough. Nobody threatens my daughter.”

“I know.” Devlin lifted one hand again and cupped the back of my neck. His fingers were warm and strong, and damned if I didn't remember exactly how talented they were. How he could make me feel, just by skimming those fingers over my skin with a featherlight touch.

Damn it.

As his hand tightened on my neck, I remembered something else. Devlin was a demon. He had plenty of strength, and if he wanted to, he could snap my neck like a twig right here and walk away. There was no one who could stop him. No one to catch him. If he killed me, there wouldn't be another Duster until Thea came of age, and then
she
would have to deal with him—or someone just like him.

“You're a strong woman, Cassidy,” he said, his voice little more than a hush. “And I find that really sexy.”

“Lucky me?” Oh God. I moved away from his touch and he let me go. I just was so not prepared for him or for anyone like him. As much as I had enjoyed that night with him, and as much as I daydreamed about trying out a few of those rooms he had at the club, I had to keep reminding myself that he was a demon. Technically, the enemy.

“You look worried again.”

“Shouldn't I be?”

“About the judge?” he asked. “Yes.” Then, as if reading my mind, he said quietly, “About me, no.”

I wished it were that easy. But it just wasn't. I didn't really know Devlin. His demon power could be lying convincingly for all I knew. And Thea's safety was at stake here. I couldn't afford to trust the wrong person—er, demon.

“I want to believe you,” I admitted.

He bent down, and I opened my eyes to look directly into his. His black eyes swam with emotions—some I could read; some I couldn't—and maybe that was just as well. I was having enough trouble sorting out
my
emotions at the moment.

“I already told you, Cass. I really like you. And I'd like to see you again.”

Oh boy.

I swallowed hard and fought down my urge to shout,
Yes! Great idea! When? Where?
Every single one of my hormones was jumping up and down and demanding I pay attention. But…“I can't think about that. About
us
, until Thea's safe.”

“I understand,” he said grimly, his gorgeous face turning to stone. Even his eyes shone with a glassy, stoic glimmer. “We'll take care of it. Together.”

“When?” I asked when he let his hand drop away and took a step back.

“Soon,” he promised. “It'll have to be soon. He's losing patience with you, Cass.”

Another woman clattered past, pushing a cart with a broken wheel, making a
whacketa whacketa
kind of sound. Enough to shatter whatever was left of the sensuous moment I'd been having. Maybe that was for the best.

“What do you mean?”

“You've been getting rid of too many demons lately,” he said. “The last couple of days, you and your squirt bottle have been pissing off the demons, and word's getting around that La Sombra's not the safest place to be anymore.”

I should have known that all of my squirting the last couple of days was going to make some waves. But, hey, I was just doing my job.

“There are a lot of demons unhappy about it. They want the judge to take care of you. He's promised to do just that.”

“How's he going to do it?” I asked, and silently congratulated myself on the steadiness of my voice. I mean, it's not every day somebody tells you that there's a hit out on you.

These weren't your ordinary, everyday mafia-type hit men we were talking about here. These were
demons
. Instantly, I flashed back to Rachel telling me about Shark Boy and his three rows of teeth.

Yikes.

I
so
didn't want to run into that guy.

“Not sure yet,” Devlin admitted, and he looked irritated by that fact. “I've been asking around, but there aren't many willing to talk about the judge. Don't want to risk pissing him off. Like I said, he's been the big man in La Sombra for decades.”

Which meant I was in deep shit.

A brand new Demon Duster going up against a guy who'd been alive for who knew how long? With all kinds of connections? Not to mention
lots
of minions willing to fight me to protect him.

Even as I thought that, I knew it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but making sure Thea was safe. If that meant I had to go up against the demon big shot, then so be it.

“Will he come after me himself?” I asked, tightening my hands around the handle of the cart, just for something to hold on to.

“Probably not. He doesn't usually go out in the field himself. Doesn't have to,” Devlin said and took my elbow to get me walking. We strolled down the bread and cereal aisle and looked like nothing more than a couple, shopping together.

“He's got enough demons and humans on his payroll. He never has to get his own hands dirty.”

“Humans?”
I repeated and stopped dead, staring up at him like he was suddenly speaking Russian. I could almost feel my eyeballs skittering in my head. I'm sure I looked lovely. “He has
humans
on his payroll?
People
work for a demon? On purpose?”

He dropped his basket into my cart, then grabbed me and held me close, murmuring in my ear. “Keep your voice down, Cassidy. The people in this town who work for the judge wouldn't be happy to hear you know about them.”

My own voice was muffled against his chest, and it was all I could do to concentrate on the problem at hand rather than focus on the feel of his broad, hard chest pressed up against me. “Fine. I'll be quiet. But who are these people? And why would they do it?”

“Why else?” he muttered, his breath brushing my ear, his words dropping like stones into the pit of my stomach. “Money. Power. Greed for more of both.”

“And you don't want that?” I had to ask. Yeah, I know. Pretty stupid. Like he'd admit anything to me if he
was
working for the judge against me.

He pulled his head back, dropped a quick, hard kiss on my mouth, then smiled. “I've already got money and power. I don't need to kiss the judge's ass to get them.”

I winced. “Thanks for the visual.”

He grinned. “Damned if I don't enjoy the hell out of you, Cass.”

“Glad somebody's having a good time,” I said and reluctantly stepped out of his arms.

He steered me on again, walking right beside me. “Once we get rid of the threat to Thea,” he said, his voice dark and filled with promise, “we'll both have a good time.”

Woo-hoo!

“And until then?”

“Until then,” he said, lifting his own basket out of my cart, “we'll do what we have to do. We'll keep Thea safe, and we'll find a way to take out the judge. I've got a line on his lair.”

“His lair? He has a lair?” I shook my head and stopped in front of the dairy case. Lifting out a jug of milk, I set it in the cart and shot him a look.

Devlin shrugged and nodded. “Down on the beach. One of the caves out near the point. The judge is old-fashioned. He doesn't do meetings at his house. He prefers taking care of business from his lair.”

An old-fashioned demon.

Swell.

Devlin left me in the frozen food section, and I took that as a sign. I grabbed a few pints of Coney Island Waffle Cone ice cream; then, still shaken, I headed for the cookie aisle.

The last of my frozen Samoas were gone, and I was going to need some cookie therapy. Fast. I grabbed some Double Stuf Oreos and a bag of pink and white iced circus animals, then turned to snatch a giant bottle of chocolate syrup off the shelf behind me.

My stomach was jumping, and my head pounded hard with every beat of my heart. It felt like I'd been scared and/or worried now for days. Probably because I had been. Thea's sweet face floated to the front of my mind, and fear washed over me like an incoming tide.

“Excuse me.”

The pissy voice came from right behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at a woman in running clothes, her long, black hair in a ponytail, pushing an empty cart. Ah. A woman who
started
her shopping in the cookie aisle. I liked her style. “Sorry.”

She glared at me as I yanked my cart out of the way. As she came up alongside me, I'm not really sure why I gave her a good squirt. Instinct? Now, wouldn't that be nice? But most likely, it was because of the surly look she gave me.

Anyway, I shot her dead in the forehead, and she hissed as smoke curled around her head like a lazy Olympic wreath. Then she swept out one hand, trying to gouge my eyes out with her French-manicured nails.

“Whoa!” I leaped back, hit the shelf behind me and knocked down what felt like an avalanche of chocolate, strawberry and caramel syrups, not to mention boxes and boxes and, oh,
boxes
of ice cream cones.

The clattering noise almost covered up the woman's voice saying, “
He
can't help you. No one can.”

He who? Devlin? She had seen Devlin and me talking? Great. Demon spies in the grocery store. Well, screw needing Devlin's help to dusting
this
bitch.

I shoved my cart into her stomach so hard she doubled over the edge and landed with her face plastered up against my Oreos. Before she could get up and try at my eyes again, I held her head down with one hand and went for her heart through her back. Turns out, it works just as well from that angle.

The bitch exploded into a cloud of dust, and before I left the cookie aisle, I kicked cones and syrup out of my way and grabbed an extra bag of Oreos as backup.

I was thinking
lots
of cookie therapy.

I
took Sugar with me on “patrol.”

Yes, yes, I can hear you all laughing, and let me assure you, I didn't have her along for protection. Oh, she's big enough to scare anyone who doesn't know her—until she hides behind me and cowers. Nope, the reason I took her was simple. She was getting fat.

Now, I don't mind a chubby dog, but Sugar was quickly moving on to hippo size, and you've got to draw the line somewhere. Since we
both
hated exercise in any form, I decided that if I had to suffer, so did she.

Sugar did not approve of the plan.

“Look,” I said, dragging on her leash as she planted her big butt and stared out at me through her hair with a pout, “we're not walking to LA, okay? Just once around the block.”

The street was pretty quiet, considering it was only about six thirty. Yes, I know that taking a walk around the block wasn't what Jasmine had had in mind when she told me to go out and patrol the city. But you know what? I'd about had it with demons by then. I figured I'd do my part to make my one little corner of La Sombra safe and leave the rest of the city to its own devices until I was sure Thea wasn't in any danger.

No way was I going to look far and wide for demons while leaving my kid alone in a house that already had had demon rocks thrown in and demon mail dropped through our slot.

The houses I passed were familiar and should have made me feel safe. Unfortunately, since I knew that there were demons hidden all over town, that feeling of safety was long gone. Still, once I got Sugar moving (with the promise of a cookie—and, yes, I know that was defeating the whole purpose of the walk), I almost enjoyed the cool evening air and the quiet broken only by the sound of Sugar's reluctant claws on the sidewalk. Almost.

My grip on the spray bottle of Demon Dew tightened reflexively while Sugar stopped to sniff at a nice-looking patch of grass in front of the house on the corner. Streetlights shone down in puddles of pale yellow. Didn't really need the light yet, but at twilight, they all clicked on, making the neighborhood look cozy, friendly.

I took a breath and let it out slowly, telling myself to relax even as my gaze swept the street and the sidewalks. The old trees created wide, green arches over the street, and at night, the shadows born beneath them suddenly looked a lot less friendly than they did during the day.

Sugar covered every square inch of the grass with her nose, looking for just the right spot to pee. I waited, getting a little antsier with every passing second. Not sure why. Jasmine would probably say it was my Duster instincts kicking in, but I was pretty sure my instincts were still buried deeply. So what was it? What was making the back of my neck itch and my heart start jittering in my chest?

Finally, Sugar squatted to get down to business. At the same time, one of the shadows under the trees separated itself and stepped out into street, away from the puddles of light. I sucked in a gulp of air, held it and swallowed hard.

It wasn't even completely dark yet. A demon was going to attack me? Right out here? Then I gave myself a metaphorical kick in the ass. Why wouldn't they attack now? Hadn't I just dusted some chick in the cookie aisle?

“I've been waiting.” A deep voice, somehow as dark and scary as the demon itself.

Sugar whimpered, and I was right there with her.

Just a block from my house, and a demon was going to challenge me. My finger slipped to the trigger on the demon spray and caressed it. “How long?”

He took a step and stopped, surprised by my question. “Uh…”

“Never mind,” I said and dropped Sugar's leash. “Stay,” I ordered quietly, though I didn't really expect her to obey me. She never had before.

This time, though, the dog must have sensed something was up. She dropped to the ground, buried her face between her paws and did everything she could to disappear.

Meanwhile, I stepped off the curb and walked into the street, passing through light into shadow as I went. God, it felt like every Western showdown I'd ever seen in old movies. All we needed was the background music and a clock pointing to high noon.

Except this was real. It was night. And I was more scared than I wanted my opponent to know. Hell, I told myself, I was getting better at this. I'd dusted a few demons and clearly, my rep was growing in Demon-land. So what did I have to worry about, anyway?

Oh yeah.

Dying.

He walked slowly to the middle of the street, taking a few steps closer as he did. “You killed a friend of mine, Duster.”

“Really?” I asked, walking closer myself, hoping to get within squirting range. “Who?”

“Thomas. You killed him in his own house.” He walked through the soft yellow glow of lamplight. He looked like a banker. You know the type: middle-aged spread, balding. Not exactly who you expected to jump out at you from the shadows.

But I felt a little better knowing he wasn't young and vigorous.

“Ah.” I nodded. So Thomas had been my “customer” in that old Victorian. “You know, he tried to kill me first.”

“Yeah,” the demon said, “and I'm about to finish that job for him.”

Almost, I thought. Another step or two and I'd be able to squirt him dead in the eye. Right about then he coiled into himself and sprang at me.

Pretty good moves for an older guy.

I jumped back and he hit the street, face-first. Sugar barked. I squirted the back of the guy's head and smiled when smoke curled into the slight breeze. My smile faded fast when the demon rolled over, swung his legs up and back over his head, then jumped to his feet.

It was a move I'd seen Buffy make dozens of times. Let me tell you, it's way scarier in person.

As soon as he straightened up, I punched him dead in the face and then followed up the hit with another long squirt. He howled, Sugar joined him, and I pulled my right leg back and kicked it out, up and into his groin. I figured if he looked like a human, then his nuts were probably just as fragile as any other male's.

They were. He shrieked, went to one knee and sent me a look that should have fried me on the spot. But remember, I've got a teenager. He didn't have a dirty look to show me that I hadn't already seen, delivered by an expert.

He swiped one hand out in an attempt to grab me. “Whoa! Look out!” Sugar barked again, a little late, but I give her points for trying to warn me. I jumped over him, stomped one foot into the middle of his back to hold him in place, then reached through his spine and grabbed his heart.

Yanking it free, I took a deep breath, watched him pop into a cloud of dust, then brushed my palms together to get rid of what was left of Thomas' friend.

My own heart was pounding, but there was a sense of satisfaction, too. I'd done it. I'd been scared, but I'd done it. Every time I dusted somebody, it got a little easier.

Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing?

 

“I brought chicken.”

“Why am I not surprised to see you?”

Logan grinned, slipped past me and walked into the living room, carrying a bucket of chicken that smelled like fried heaven.

“Because you were born under a lucky star and have always wanted me back in your life?” He set the tub down onto the table, plopped a white bag, no doubt filled with mashed potatoes and extra gravy, beside it and gave Sugar the death glare.

The dog whimpered and plopped down on her too-wide butt.

I closed the door and leaned back against it for a minute. I'd had quite a day already, with Rachel's tales of demon dental problems and then, just a couple hours ago, Devlin telling me about the judge's
lair,
just before having to brush dead demon off my Oreos. And let's not forget the “patrolling” with Sugar. God. I'd already shampooed three times trying to get the last of the demon dust out of my hair. That was just too gross to think about for long.

Anyway, I was pooped. I really wasn't in the mood to chitchat.

On the other hand, there was fried chicken on the table, and I never had been one to turn down food.

“Yeah,” I said wryly, looking at him. “Born under a lucky star. That must be it.”

“Thea home?” he asked.

“She will be soon. She's with Zoe.”

“Good.” He grinned and lifted one eyebrow. That action still did some funny things to my insides, but I managed to get a grip. “Then we get some time alone.

“Why do we need to be alone?”

“Because I'm still winning you over. Stunning you with my charm. Seducing you with kisses and…”

Mmm. Logan kisses. Mental eye roll.
Get a grip, Cass. For God's sake, try for a grip.

“How's that working for you?” I wasn't so much interested in his charm as in the scent of that chicken and how it was making my stomach growl appreciatively. I walked toward him, following the aroma that was filling the room.

“Too early to tell.”

I moved past him, and he didn't make a move to get out of the way, so our bodies sort of brushed together. Instant sizzle. What can I say? Let's face it. It had been so long since my hormones had had anything to do but whimper and complain, these little rushes were a good time. And let's not forget to give Logan his due. He really
was
a great kisser. Plus, his Mr. Happy always leaped to attention whenever he got near me. Hard not to be flattered.

Besides, Logan always did look great in a faded pair of jeans. The man has a terrific butt and really long legs.

Then again, it could just have been the whole slut-puppy issue rearing its ugly head.

He stopped me with a hand on my arm, and when I looked up at him, he gave me one of those lopsided smiles that men must practice in front of mirrors. You know, the ones that say,
Hey, don't worry about me. I'm harmless.

He'd used that same smile sixteen years ago, and look where that had gotten me.

“You look nice,” he said, stroking one hand up and down my arm.

Mmmm. Goose bumps. Dry mouth. Hoo-hah hallelujah dance. Honestly, I was really just pitiful. “Logan…”

He let me go and lifted both hands in mock surrender. “Just an observation.”

And a big fat lie. I knew just how I looked. Barefoot, jeans and an old T-shirt from a Tim McGraw concert that Thea and I had gone to the year before. Only I'd washed the thing so much, the shirt read
IM GR W
.

Yeah, I was just a vision of loveliness.

I scooted past him, opened up the bucket and got down to the only reason Logan was still in my living room. I inhaled deeply. “This smells great.”

“I remembered how much you like it.”

I shot him a look filled with mocking disbelief.

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. “I took a shot. Who doesn't like KFC?”

I grabbed a napkin then a chicken leg, and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the couch. “Good call.” I took a bite, sighed a little as I chewed, and after I swallowed, I said, “But Logan, you've got to cut this out.”

“What? Bringing you food?”

I paused and thought about that for a long minute. “Hmm.”

He smiled.

Laughing, I shrugged. “Okay, I admit it, bringing me food is really a smooth plan.”

“Thank you.”

“But it's not going to change anything between us.”

He sat down on the floor next to me and frowned when I handed Sugar a piece of my chicken. What did I care if he didn't like it? My dog loved me.

“I get that,” he said. “But I want you to know that I'm not going away again.” He reached for me and gave my hand a quick squeeze, then let me go as if he knew I wouldn't be happy if he sat there trying to hold my hand like we were still together. “Since I'm home to stay, I want us to get to know each other. To…connect again.”

I couldn't help smiling. It sounded like he'd been reading some self-help books. You know the kind:
How to Get That Old Girlfriend Back in Ten Easy Lessons.
That was just so unlike Logan.

He was more the caveman type.
See girl. Me want. Me take.
Which, I've got to say, was usually a pretty big turn-on. I don't know about all the other women out there, but I was pretty sick and tired of all the whiny, emotional men wandering around. I didn't want to hear about their “feelings.” I didn't want to see their “feminine” side.

Hell, I wanted to be the one having PMS in a relationship.

“Connect, huh?” I grinned at him.

“A little too far?” he asked with a shrug. “I thought so too. Felt stupid saying it.”

“If it feels stupid, it probably is,” I said, and felt very Zen-like.

“The point is, I want to see you,” Logan said, his blue eyes fixed on mine, his fingers trailing up and down my arm as if to remind me just how well my body responded to his. “And not just as Thea's mom.”