A Good Demon Is Hard to Find Read online

  “I guess you’re right,” said Erin. “Still, that was pretty dramatic. I’ve never banished a demon before.”

  “You never tried to,” said Raya.

  “Good point.” Erin’s gaze drifted over the pool. “It’s one thing to believe in something. It’s another thing altogether to see it for real before your eyes. When I saw Andy for the first time, he spread his wings right there in the kitchen—to prove what he was, you know? And I was shocked, but at the same time, I thought, ‘Of course.’ Like it was a confirmation of what I’d believed all along.”

  “Exactly.”

  “If demons are real, and witches are real, what else is out there? Angels? Where is God in all this? What about other religions?”

  “That’s above my pay grade,” said Raya.

  Erin shifted onto her side and faced Raya. “Don’t you think about it? What’s out there? Where did it come from?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Has Phoenix said anything about it?”

  Raya scoffed. “Phoenix? He’s too busy thinking the universe revolves around him to put any serious thought into the actual nature of the universe.”

  “I just want to know if all this is a product of human belief, or some great unknown force.” Erin tipped her glass back and drank the last of her Singapore Sling. Sure enough, it had gone straight to her head. She stared into the empty glass. “My beliefs seem to have manifested as a demon in a red suit and bow tie with a really good massage technique.”

  “Well, mine manifested as an English-accented demon with an attitude and a drinking problem. Go figure. Speak of the devil … ”

  Erin sat up straight. “What?”

  “Isn’t that Phoenix?” said Raya.

  17

  Phoenix sauntered into the pool area like he owned it. He carried an old fashioned glass brimming with amber liquid over ice and mint leaves. As he walked, he sipped from the rim as if to prevent spilling the drink on his white linen suit.

  “Hello, Witchiepoo,” he said, addressing Raya.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she replied.

  “Thought you might like to know”—he paused for a leisurely sip—“the quarry decided to make a return trip.”

  “What do you mean?” said Erin.

  “He means they came back,” said Raya.

  Phoenix raised his eyebrows in an insinuating manner.

  “Who came back?” Erin asked. His meaning cut through the alcohol-induced fog in her brain all in one flash. “Oh, my God! Mark and Genevieve are here?” She looked all around.

  “Calm down,” said Raya. “Don’t make yourself conspicuous.”

  “But what if they think I followed them here?”

  “You kind of did,” said Phoenix.

  “Oh, my God,” repeated Erin. She dropped her head into her hands. “We have to go.”

  “No way,” said Raya. “Now we can see for ourselves what they’re up to. Aren’t you curious?”

  The situation was spiraling rapidly out of control. “Yes, but not enough to humiliate myself by following my ex-husband and ex-best friend around a hotel.”

  “Come on. Live a little,” said Raya. She stood up, then bent over and tugged Erin’s hat lower. “See, they’ll never recognize you.”

  Erin crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, they will.”

  “Just stay behind us,” said Raya.

  “Us?” said Phoenix.

  “Yes, us, you idiot demon—unless you’d rather head back and work on the lawn?”

  “When you put it like that, Your Majesty, how can I resist?” Phoenix bowed mockingly.

  “This is a bad idea,” said Erin.

  “Of course it is,” said Phoenix. “But we are all in thrall to Her Royal Witchiness.”

  “Shut up, Phoenix,” said Raya.

  “Oh, she used my name! Will wonders never cease!” said Phoenix.

  Erin dragged her legs off the lounge chair and slowly stood, her head spinning from the drink. “Fine.”

  Raya and Phoenix walked side by side, with Erin trailing just behind. They exited the pool area and followed the meandering garden paths back to the lobby, where Erin hung back behind a sculpted stone column while Raya and Phoenix scanned the lobby crowd.

  “There they are,” said Raya.

  Genevieve leaned on Mark, her arm entwined through his as they walked through the lobby. They did not stop to admire the decorations but cut straight through to a smaller arcade on the far side of the lobby.

  Raya and Phoenix took off in their wake, maintaining a careful distance from Mark and Genevieve.

  Erin tugged at her hat repeatedly, trying to pull it even lower as she trailed Raya and Phoenix.

  When Mark and Genevieve paused to admire an especially elaborate flower arrangement, Raya, Phoenix, and Erin quickly pivoted to study the glass storefront display of one of the hotel’s gift shops.

  When the couple moved on, the trio continued following them.

  “The crowd is thinning out,” Erin whispered. “We’ll be too obvious.”

  Raya turned her head and whispered back, “There aren’t too many places they can go from here. We’ll turn back in a minute if we don’t see anything.”

  Erin’s caution proved premature when Mark and Genevieve abruptly turned off into a smaller hallway off the arcade, then disappeared.

  Raya peeked around the corner. “They’re gone.”

  “Where did they go?” Erin peeked over Raya’s shoulder. Several signs hung from the hallway ceiling, indicating different rooms. She read them aloud one by one. “Salon de Coiffure. Le Spa. Le Organisateur de Mariage.”

  “Oh, my,” said Phoenix. He chuckled and shook the remaining ice in his glass, which clinked gently, the sounds echoing in the marble-tiled hallway.

  “Organisateur … ” said Erin, uncertainly.

  “Organizer,” said Phoenix, appearing to enjoy himself hugely.

  “The organizer of … marriage?”

  “Give the lady a prize,” said Phoenix, raising his glass to her.

  “They’re getting married? Already?” The Singapore Sling in her stomach threatened to reappear.

  “Easy, there,” said Raya, steering her away from the little hallway. “Why don’t we go sit down?”

  “Sit down? I can’t sit down! What if they come back out and see me?”

  “Fine,” said Raya. “Back to the truck. Demon, we’ll see you later.”

  “What, I can’t catch a ride in your truck bed? My heart breaks.”

  “Get lost,” said Raya, who had looped her arm through Erin’s and was practically frog-marching her out of the hotel.

  Phoenix smirked. “I needed a refill anyway. Goodbye, Your Witchiness.” He nodded to Erin and strolled away, in the direction of the bar.

  “I can walk,” said Erin. “You don’t need to drag me.”

  Raya loosened her hold. “I didn’t want you to keel over from shock while we were still inside.”

  “I’m not keeling over,” said Erin. “I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

  “Sure. Surprised. That’s why you looked like you were going to explode on the spot.”

  They reached Raya’s truck and got in.

  In the confined space, Erin could hear her own breath, which came faster than normal—and not just from fleeing the hotel. “I’m not upset about them,” she said. “I’m upset at myself. Why am I following them around? Why did I run away? They can get married or fly to the moon, for all I care.”

  Raya turned the key in the ignition, sending ice-cold air blasting into the cab. “Well, that’s great! You’re more over Mark than you thought.”

  “I don’t care what he does. Or what they do.”

  “And now you know that.” Raya threw the truck into reverse and backed out of
the parking spot.

  “I guess I kind of knew it all along—stop!”

  Raya hit the brakes, the sudden stop slamming both women against their seatbelts. “What is it?”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Let’s go back to the pool.”

  “Really?” Raya peered at Erin.

  “Really. They got a gift shop here?”

  “Sure … ” Raya eased the truck back into the parking space.

  “Great. You want to go swimming?”

  “Um—”

  Erin unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’m going swimming.” She opened the door and slid out of the truck.

  Raya hastily turned off the truck and followed her into the hotel.

  Erin marched into the gift shop and found a rack of overpriced bathing suits. She rifled through the rack until she found her size. “How about you?”

  “This one.” Raya took a suit for herself.

  “My treat,” said Erin, holding out her hand for Raya’s choice of bathing suit.

  Raya handed it to her.

  Erin purchased the suits and strode to the pool area. She handed the other suit to Raya.

  They used the changing room to slip into their newly purchased suits, then emerged with bare feet onto the warm concrete pool deck.

  “Back so soon, ladies?” Phoenix’s voice carried from his perch on a nearby lounge chair.

  Erin dropped her things on the chair and closed her eyes, tilting her face upward to the rays of the sun.

  She opened her eyes and smiled. With quick steps, she closed the distance to the edge of the pool and cannonballed into the deep end.

  18

  Erin ignored the flashing light on the answering machine and followed Nancy Drew out into the backyard. She settled in one of the two chairs on the back porch to watch Nancy cavort in the sparse grass under the gathering storm clouds.

  Her gaze swept the sandy backyard as she considered planting flowers. A rose bush over here, perhaps, and a container garden of succulents over there. Right now there wasn’t a lot of money for anything extra—especially after the swimsuits—but it didn’t hurt to dream.

  She toyed with the crystal on her necklace and watched tiny flickers of concentrated sunlight dance. Of course she was stalling rather than doing what she needed to do—namely, listen to her voicemail message, which was most likely from her mother, who would demand to know why she hadn’t been at church on Sunday. Explaining that she’d been at a magic shop buying a bag full of magic paraphernalia probably wouldn’t go over well.

  Erin let her mind drift back to the magic shop.

  The sound of Nancy barking at her feet brought her back to the present. “Okay, girl,” she said. “I’m coming.” She stood up and went inside with the dog at her heels.

  In the kitchen, the answering machine continued to blink its red light on and off. She pressed the button and waited to hear her mother’s voice.

  “Erin, it’s me,” said the recording.

  It wasn’t her mother.

  It was Genevieve.

  “I was hoping we could talk. Please call me.”

  Erin froze, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. After all this time, she wanted to talk? About what? Erin’s hand darted out and hit the button again.

  “Erin, it’s me. I was hoping we could talk. Please call me,” said the machine, with Genevieve’s voice.

  Nancy Drew trotted over at the familiar sound and looked up at Erin expectantly.

  “She’s not here, baby,” said Erin.

  Nancy Drew’s ears perked up.

  “Poor old dog. You can’t understand any of this, can you?” Erin kneeled and gave Nancy a dog biscuit and a gentle scratch on the head. “Everyone is a friend to you. But not to me.”

  Erin debated her options.

  Raya would have told her to raise both middle fingers to the answering machine and delete the message. Andy would have suggested letting the air out of all four of the tires on Genevieve’s car. Her mother, on the other hand, would probably advise Erin to take the high road—while Joyce secretly did the dirty work of spreading juicy gossip about Genevieve.

  Her emotions couldn’t possibly be any more confused. Outside, rain began to pour, making a cacophonous yet soothing sound on the roof.

  She picked up the phone, tossed it from hand to hand, then dropped it back in the cradle and walked to the bedroom, where she picked up the pile of tarot cards and the matching booklet from her bedside table.

  Cards in hand, she sat down on the living room floor.

  Nancy Drew sat down next to her, pressing her furry body against Erin’s leg.

  Erin spread out the cards on the coffee table, searching for the ones the girl had drawn at the magic shop. She picked up the Tower, the Star, and the Wheel of Fortune and laid them in a row. Erin touched the Tower card with one finger, then turned to its page in the booklet and read aloud. “Destruction. Change. Liberation.” Inspired, she jumped up and ran to the kitchen, where she retrieved the wedding album from under the counter. She brought the album to the living room and placed it on the coffee table with the Tower card on top of it.

  “The Star,” she murmured, turning her attention to the second card. She found herself touching the crystal hanging from her necklace. She found the relevant page in the booklet and read aloud. “Spiritual inspiration. Renewal. Hope.” Erin considered for a moment, then unclasped the necklace and laid it on the card.

  “The Wheel of Fortune.” This one was more complicated. Erin considered the card as she slowly rotated it on the surface of the table. When it completed a full revolution, she picked it up and held it in her cupped hands. She closed her eyes and sought inspiration within. A long-ago lesson returned to mind, and she spoke it aloud over the card. “When men are cast down, then thou shalt say, There is lifting up; and he shall save the humble person.”

  Erin chuckled. God must have a sense of humor. Why else would she recall an obscure Bible verse from the Book of Job in the middle of seeking spiritual inspiration for conjuring a friendly demon? Where she had expected to find conflict between two different systems of belief, she found only a sense of completion, like a key fitting into a lock—possibly sacrilegious, but satisfying all the same.

  She looked around the room. Her gaze landed on one of the markers Andy had so enthusiastically used to plot revenge. She picked it up and held it in both hands. What he had written was proof he had been here. Erin laid the marker on the Wheel of Fortune card, patting it for good measure, then gathered the rest of the deck and shuffled the cards.

  “If a kid can do it, so can I,” she said. “Right, Nancy?”

  Nancy’s tail thumped the floor.

  “One card,” she said. “For guidance.” Erin tapped the top of the deck and drew one card, laying it face up on the coffee table, separate from the Tower, the Star, and the Wheel of Fortune. “The Nine of Wands. What’s that?” She flipped through the booklet and scanned the page for the Nine of Wands, picking out the salient words. “Battle fatigue. Standing up for yourself. Persistence. Close to success. How about that, Nancy?”

  Nancy scratched herself with a back paw.

  Erin returned to the bedroom and collected the assortment of crystals from her bedside table. She piled all of them on the Nine of Wands, then dusted her hands. “I’m all in.”

  Nancy stood up and poked her head over the coffee table, sniffing hopefully at the stones.

  Erin stared at the array on the coffee table. She touched each card one more time—the Tower, the Star, the Wheel of Fortune, and the Nine of Wands—before walking into the kitchen.

  She took a deep breath and picked up the phone. She dialed a familiar number.

  “Genevieve? It’s me, Erin.”

  19

  The coffee shop had been Erin a
nd Genevieve’s favorite meeting place. Now a painful reminder of betrayal and loss, Erin had avoided the cozy cafe ever since she found out Mark was cheating on her. She’d visited it only in dreams—and even then, not by choice. Genevieve’s suggestion that they meet in person to talk brought to the surface a flood of emotions Erin would have preferred to stay buried.

  When Erin ducked out of the rain and into the coffee shop, she almost expected to see Andy waiting for her, wearing his red suit, with his wings unfurled. Erin smiled at the memory of when he accompanied her into her own dreams. What a shock it would be to the coffee shop patrons to look up and see a demon over their rainy afternoon coffees.

  If only he were really there.

  Erin sighed and ordered a coffee from the counter. After the barista handed her the mug, Erin looked around for her former best friend.

  Genevieve sat at a corner cafe table. She was without coffee of any kind, which was unusual. She wore little make-up, and her hair hung at half-mast in a ponytail that almost looked messy, and not in an artfully disarrayed fashion, either.

  Erin slid into a chair facing Genevieve. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” said Genevieve.

  The awkward exchange made Erin’s skin prickle with goosebumps. She waited for Genevieve to continue.

  “Thank you for coming,” said Genevieve. Without a coffee cup to cradle, her hands clasped and unclasped nervously on the table.

  “No coffee today?” asked Erin.

  Genevieve shook her head. “I’m off it.”

  Erin had nothing to add to that.

  “Erin, I know we haven’t talked since … well, you know how long we haven’t talked. But I have some things I want to say to you. I hope you’ll give me a chance to say them.”

  Erin sat back and gave Genevieve her full attention. “Go ahead.”

  “First, I want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. You don’t owe me that. But I want you to know I’m sorry.”

  Erin nodded but said nothing.

  “Second—I know it doesn’t matter—but things haven’t turned out quite like I pictured. I don’t know if you’ll find any satisfaction in that, but there it is.”