Demons Are a Girl’s Best Friend

by Linda Wisdom

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re stressed and worried about her. I get it.” She lifted the glass to her lips.

  “No, I’m sorry I killed you in the dream.”

  That stopped Maggie cold. The last thing she wanted was a reminder of her horrifying illusion. “Apology accepted, and we really don’t need to revisit that.” She could hear him breathing on the other end of the line. “Umm, haven’t you ever had a nightmare, Declan? I mean, with your family background…”

  “We create nightmares. We don’t have them.”

  “Well then, welcome to my world. If we’re lucky, we’re still flying under the radar and they’re just sending out feelers. Better a bad dream than something tangible.”

  “What about Courtney? Do you think she’s going through this, too?”

  “I don’t know. This is new to me. I’m usually the one sent to take care of the baddies. I’m told where the rogues are, and my team and I go in and clean them out. I don’t deal with kids. I don’t deal with ancient cultures, and I don’t go up against bloodthirsty cults.

  “Well, there was one in Bolivia.” She thought back. “They were actually idiots playing with something they couldn’t handle, so we had to handle it for them. Very messy.”

  “Are you always so glib about your work?”

  “It makes it easier. That’s why I’m not addicted to creaBay or watching What Not To Wear. Although Frebus does give me good fashion tips.”

  She paused and thought of Declan on the other end of the phone line; she sensed he was more vulnerable than she’d yet known him to be.

  “And I’m doing it again. Okay, here goes. There are times when I’m so scared, I can’t breathe. More than once, I’ve gone on a mission with the knowledge I might not survive. And then I wonder who will mourn me.

  “I know my team will, but they’ll go on because they have to. The way I’ve moved forward every time we’ve lost a team member.” She plumped her pillows behind her so she could sit up. “I value the friends I’ve known for more than 700 years. I know they’ll always be there for me, but sometimes I want…”

  “More.” He finished it for her. “Something that’s just for you.”

  “Exactly.” She lit up, pleased he understood.

  “Love.”

  “I told you, it’s not in my future, and I’m surprised you’d think of that word.” Maggie shifted uneasily, since Declan’s voice had lowered to a caressing tone that stroked her nerve endings. She wasn’t ready for this.

  “Call it my human half. And you can’t deny there’s something between us. Hey! Dammit!” He paused. “You did that, didn’t you? I’ve got Scotch all over me.”

  “You get personal, you get a bath. I’m going to get some sleep. I have to look bright eyed when I meet my new ‘cousin,’ and concealer can only do so much.” Her voice softened. “Good night, Declan.”

  “Good night, Maggie. Sweet dreams.”

  His words hit her as soon as she extinguished the candles and pulled the covers over her chest.

  “No dreams for me. No dreams at all. No dreams to see. No dreams that will gall. A good night’s sleep for me.” She smiled as she felt the magickal sparkles drift over her. A moment later, she was sound asleep with the image of Declan’s face in her mind.

  ***

  “Why didn’t you call me last night?” Sybil sat cross-legged in the middle of Maggie’s bed and watched her friend dig through her closet. The elf’s wings rustled softly, sending calming fragrance through the air.

  “We could have sat up and talked, experimented with makeup, or told ghost jokes. I heard a good one from Janus a few days ago,” she said, referring to the compound’s resident spirit.

  “Declan called. He had the same nightmare and was afraid that Anna might also be experiencing it. I was able to find out she was okay and let him know.”

  “And…?” She lifted an arched eyebrow.

  “And we talked for awhile.” Maggie pulled out a dress, held it up against herself, and looked at Sybil. The elf shook her head, and Maggie threw the dress back into the closet. The second and third dress met the same fate.

  “This isn’t working. I don’t even know how to dress for the role Mal thought up for me.”

  “That’s because you’re trying to look either too professional or too boring. There’s no reason for you to do either.” Sybil climbed off the bed and gently pushed her friend to one side. Within thirty seconds, Sybil had pulled out a bright-pink-and-turquoise-print V-neck blouse paired with a black skirt and turquoise jacket.

  “And when did you get these cute shoes?” She held up black peep-toe pumps that sported a small pink bow. “I would have borrowed them in a second. I like how you kept your makeup simple. You won’t need an illusion spell to charm the authorities.”

  “Tita could pull this off.” Maggie quickly dressed and took the jewelry Sybil held in her hand.

  “She’d show up in black leather and scare everyone. You’re protecting someone important, Maggie,” she said softly.

  “Then why don’t I feel that way? Yes, I know the young are easy targets, but there’s so much going on here. And now there’s that rave Declan and I followed Courtney to. Who knows how much damage is done to the teenagers who attend them? How do we know that demons aren’t somehow involved with the Mayans and managing to keep themselves under wraps?”

  “No one we’ve brought in has even hinted that,” Sybil told her. “The team that went to the warehouse only found traces of the demon power, but no hint where they’d moved to. Mal sent witches to cleanse the area, so the demons can’t return there.”

  “They’re off somewhere else, and more teenagers are being affected,” Maggie mused, fluffing her hair and spraying on perfume. She adjusted her blouse, gratified that her push-up bra did its job. “Okay, I’m gone.”

  “You’ll do great.” Sybil followed her out of the room.

  “You better come visit me in that house Mal set up for me.” She hugged her friend and hurried out of her quarters with the elf walking behind her.

  “Wait up!” Mal ambled up to her as she exited the building. He handed her a sheaf of papers. “Don’t forget your ID, backstory, and credit cards. Just don’t go overboard charging up a storm.” His wizened face looked her over. “You look downright harmless, O’Malley.”

  “And what will you be doing while I’m playing mommy?” She stuffed it all in her bag.

  “Looking into how you and the demon were visited by nightmares. And make sure the kid wears this.” He handed her a necklace made of hammered brass links. “Tracking and protection. This is for you to use if you have to track her.” He added a bracelet to it. “You wear this. Touch the links, and you’ll see where she is. If she feels fear, the bracelet will alert you. If she’s hurt, you’ll find that out, too. Keys to the house.”

  Maggie nodded. “Are you sure someone else can’t do this?” She hated the whine in her voice.

  “Witch up, O’Malley. You’re the one.” He waddled off in a haze of cigar smoke.

  “Easy for you to say.” She glanced at her watch and realized she’d have to race to make it in time for her meeting.

  ***

  “You think you can dump me with a perfect stranger?” A teenage whirlwind rounded on the judge, the attorney, and Maggie. Her glossy black hair with its white blonde streaks flared around her shoulders. “How do you know she’s not some perv just looking to sell me into white slavery?” She glared at Maggie.

  “Or a drug dealer who plans to use me as a mule? Or put me in porn movies? I won’t go with her.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. A chest that Maggie sadly noticed was a bit more abundant than her own.

  Maggie’s first thought was All righty then, she’s all yours. Her second was This kid has a pretty good imagination.

  “I realize this is upsetting to you, Courtney,” she said, doing her best to put across total normalcy. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t have been here sooner. I didn’t hear about
your parents’ deaths until a couple of months ago. I’ve been living in Europe for the past ten years, and we didn’t keep in touch like we used to.” She used the cover story Mal and company had cooked up for her. “When I heard what happened to you, I knew I needed to come here and offer you a good home.”

  Courtney glared at her from wide eyes lined with kohl. Her dark-red skirt looked more like a Band-Aid, while her matching top was postage-stamp size. Maggie thought of her own outfits when she went clubbing, and none of them were that miniscule.

  The administrator of the group home sat in a corner looking relieved that her charge was being handed off to someone else.

  “I won’t go.”

  Courtney continued to repeat those three words as the judge signed off on the paperwork and added his good wishes to Maggie.

  “We’ll pick up your things and go over to the house I’ve purchased,” Maggie said, just as happy to get out of there as Courtney was.

  “Didn’t you hear one thing I said? I’m not going anywhere.”

  Maggie matched her glare for glare. “Yes, you will.”

  Courtney drew out her cell phone, but Maggie took it from her and tucked it in her bag. “How about we grab some lunch and get to know each other?”

  “That’s mine. I paid for it.”

  “And you’ll get it returned. I just want to talk, Courtney.”

  “I have to get back to school.”

  “You’re excused today.” She led the teen down to the parking lot.

  “This is your car?” Courtney’s eyes bugged out at the sight of the Viper. “Can I drive it?”

  “No.”

  “I have a learner’s permit.”

  “Still no. Any choice of where to go for lunch, or do you trust me to come up with something fun?”

  “Gee, how noble of you.” Courtney sulked in the passenger seat.

  Maggie glanced at her charge as she started up the car.

  Anyone whose biological clock is ticking overtime only has to meet Courtney. Adopting a cobra would be a much better bet.

  Maggie didn’t expect lunch with the girl to be easy. She was right. Courtney ordered enough food for a third-world country and then only nibbled at it. Her replies to Maggie’s questions were monosyllables.

  “For someone who was convinced I was here to kidnap her, you’re not all that curious about me,” Maggie said, finishing her food.

  “You’re my dad’s third cousin. You haven’t kept in touch with him for several years, and my parents never mentioned you. You don’t even look like anyone in my family. Your hairdresser makes it look natural.” She eyed Maggie’s blonde hair.

  “I’m from the Scandinavian side of the family.”

  “You are so full of shit,” the girl hooted. “My ancestors came from South America. Not the North Pole.”

  “Sounds like you need to learn your geography. And being a third cousin doesn’t mean my bloodline is the same as yours.”

  “Whatev.” Courtney slumped in the chair and looked around the restaurant.

  “If you’re finished, we’ll stop by and pick up your things.” As Maggie said the words, she saw the first flash of real emotion in Courtney’s brown eyes. She caught a hint of sorrow and insecurity and wondered if it came from the girl’s troubles. Losing her parents, no hint of family members, and she would have been stuck in the system for three more years if the Hellion Guard hadn’t found her. That left Maggie wondering what would happen to the girl if they all survived what was ahead.

  She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  “Can I have my cell back?” Courtney followed her.

  “Once we settle in at the house.” She hoped she’d find a large bottle of aspirin there. “I may not be used to having a teenager around, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember what it was like.”

  “Huh. You haven’t been my age in years.”

  “Something like that,” she said dryly.

  Maggie knew her clothing and personal items would have been moved over to the house while she was at the courthouse. Her magickal supplies would remain in her quarters at the compound.

  Courtney didn’t take long to gather up her things at the group home. Maggie observed, noting none of the girls wished her well and the boys only gave her sly looks. Mrs. Whitney, the administrator, displayed the same relief she had shown at the courthouse.

  “Do you know what happened to your family’s things?”

  “The court appointed a guardian who sold the house and furniture and put the money in trust until I’m twenty-five.” The teen acted as if that were a hundred years away. She looked down, her dark hair falling forward to obscure her features. “The other stuff is in a storage unit.”

  “I’m sure I can arrange it if you want to go through what’s in there and take anything you’d like,” Maggie offered.

  “No thanks. It’s all junk.” Courtney shrugged.

  Oh, yeah, a really big bottle of aspirin.

  Maggie easily found the two-story, creamy-yellow Victorian house with blue gingerbread trim. It was part of a quiet neighborhood. The building with its wraparound porch was set at the end of the block and somewhat secluded by a row of trees along the driveway that offered a windbreak.

  With colorful flower baskets hanging from the porch ceiling and wind chimes near the glass-fronted double door, it looked like something out of a storybook. The name of the street was Spinning Wheel Lane, for Fates’ sake. Maggie wouldn’t have been surprised to see a shaggy-faced dog peeking out over the back fence. She felt the strength of the wards as she drove up the driveway.

  “Nice house. And you’ve got a hot car. You must be rich.” Courtney eyed her speculatively. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a consultant, so I work out of the house.”

  “Consultant’s a fancy way of saying you run an escort service.”

  Maggie stopped the car and half turned in her seat. “Where do you get these ideas?”

  Courtney shrugged as she looked away. “It’s the way the world is. Good things go away. Bad things happen.” She pushed open the door and climbed out.

  “Your room is the third door on the right.” Maggie walked into the kitchen and wasted no time setting up the coffee.

  “If it’s pink, I’m going to projectile vomit all over it.” Courtney headed for the stairs.

  “If the room is pink, it will stink. Change to a color she will love, and look kick-ass,” Maggie muttered. “And please don’t be black.”

  “You did one thing right!” floated down. “The green isn’t so bad.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Maggie palmed her cell and connected with Mal. “We’re here.”

  “She fell for the story?”

  “Not really. She’s debating whether I’m a madam or a white slaver. She’s one troubled and confused kid.”

  “She’s a teenager. They’re all like that,” he said with the authority of one who’d never been a father. “You’ll be good for her.” She could hear him puffing away on his cigar. “I’ve got Zouk Rattail tracking the dream you and the demon shared. We’re hoping he’ll have some info for us soon.”

  Maggie shuddered at the thought of the troll’s job, which was finding ways to backtrack someone’s dream to the originator. If she thought her nightmare was bad, she didn’t want to think what his must be like.

  She winced as loud thumps from overhead made it sound as if the ceiling would fall at any second.

  “Hey! You’ve got the bigger room with its own bathroom!” Courtney shouted down.

  Mal chuckled. “Yeah, the two of you are the perfect pair.” He turned serious. “I’m going to email you some updated intel on this god of destruction. That somebody’s able to invade your sleep isn’t good.”

  “Gee, ya think?” She searched for coffee mugs and poured herself a cup, inhaling the rich cinnamon scent of fresh-brewed caffeine. Tea wasn’t going to help her one bit in dealing with a teenager. “They’ve got another thing coming if they assume this will mak
e me back off.”

  “There are some special sachets you’re to use in your pillow. They should keep the bad dreams away. Gotta go.” He hung up.

  “Nice to talk to you, too.” She sipped the hot liquid.

  “Oh good, coffee.” Courtney grabbed a mug, poured some, and took a sip. “Not bad.”

  “Thanks. I gather you’re okay with your room?”

  “It’s all right and not a sucky color.”

  Maggie leaned back against the counter and watched Courtney prowl through the kitchen. Although they’d eaten barely an hour ago, the girl was already investigating the refrigerator contents and looking through the cabinets.

  She was glad that the kitchen was bright and cheerful, painted white with bright-red accents and appliances. The knowledge the morning sun would come in the window over the sink was another plus in her mind. She realized it was something she could get used to.

  But even with the cheerful atmosphere of the house, she felt darkness creeping up around them like an encroaching fog. She knew the wards were strong enough to hold it back, but she’d still never let down her guard.

  “At least you don’t believe in stocking nothing but healthy food.” Courtney chose a bag of chocolate marshmallow cookies. “Mrs. Whitney was positive we were better off eating so healthy I thought I’d turn into a vegetable. She’d even make veggie lasagna because she felt too much meat wasn’t good for us. How wrong is that?” She hitched herself up onto the counter even though there was a chair nearby.

  “Some people prefer it that way. As for me, I like mine with lots of meat.”

  Courtney tore open the bag of cookies, took out several, and belatedly offered the bag to Maggie, who took one.

  “Why didn’t you keep in touch with my dad? They’ve been gone for three years. Didn’t you think something was wrong when you didn’t get a Christmas card?” She demolished her snack in two bites and then dipped her second cookie in her coffee. “Didn’t anyone tell you about them?” About me? was left unspoken.

  “I didn’t keep in contact with anyone while I was in Europe.” Maggie continued with her cover story. “It was one of those self-discovery journeys.”