Demon Girl (Keeley Thomson Book One) (16 page)

   The look she gave Keeley was happy enough, not gleeful but not wicked or demonic either. For all that Keeley could tell, she was genuinely happy about Quince having called.

   “Quince. Isn't that a fruit? Like a kumquat? Kind of a strange thing for someone's parents to name their son.” The thought struck her, so she'd said the words, but instantly realized that if Darla liked the young man she might take offense. Instead she laughed.

   “Oh yeah. Not high on the name of the year chart at all. But don't blame the parents this time, he told me that he picked it himself, out of the dictionary, because he wanted something to show how special he was.” She held up her right hand.

   “His words not mine. His parents named him Kevin though. Still, if he's looking for a name that stands out, Quince certainly does that, doesn't it? At least he's cute. A bit dumb, but what sixteen year old isn't?”

   Crossing her arms Keeley gave Darla a look. Then sighed.

   “OK, I can see that would probably be true, but no one wants to hear about how little they know. I don't at least.”

   The demoness didn't apologize.

   “At least with you I know that there's some small hope of doing better. Quince is... Well, luckily Raintree has sports teams. In another institution I fear he'd probably drop out altogether. The staff helps him along with his grades. Oh, right, helping with grades... I promised Hally that you'd tutor her in math? I could do it, but oddly enough her parents don't seem to think that the cheer-leading captain will make a very good math tutor. Go figure?”

   “Oh, sure. It shouldn't be too hard, she's smarter than she thinks she is.”

   “Indeed. They all are, our little gang. I picked them with that in mind. Nothing is less fun than trying to drag around a truly slow person all the time. Not that there aren't ways to fix that, but I didn't come for that kind of thing. I'm here for you.”

   That still left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Keeley's stomach. She was a demon? Even if that kind of being wasn't what she'd been taught as a child the idea just didn't set well. Demons were evil and bad and against god. That god was obviously someone's social control device and religion the bludgeon used to ensure that control was clear, but it still left her in a slightly dark place, even knowing better than to trust her old training from the church.

   The other girl grinned at her happily and came around the table, putting an arm comfortably over her shoulder, hugging her slightly.

   “Quince however offered to set you up with his friend, Gavin. You know, the center? The huge one that must weight three hundred pounds? I told him we'd set up a date for you two later. You should go, he's actually a decent person. You can't say that for the whole team. Some of them are sociopathic little pigs.”

   Thinking about it for a second, Keeley nodded. The guy was fat, not just big, but he smiled a lot and if Darla thought he was OK, she could at least meet him, right? True, she was a virgin and wouldn't be losing that to him most likely, but she could sit with him at a movie without a problem. Who knew, maybe they'd get along? It could happen.

   It never had, but then she spent most of her life avoiding other people. Working hard to keep from knowing them too well.

   “Alright. I can give that a try I guess, I mean, if he wants to.”

   “Good! We'll make a proper demoness of you yet.”

   “What does that mean? If human sacrifice is involved you can forget it.” Keeley fixed Darla with a look. The other woman pretended to be offended, going wide eyes and “shocked” looking.

   “Oh trust me Keels, the only virgin sacrifice you'll have to make is something that any of the guys at Raintree would be more than happy to have you perform.”

   “Now you just seem creepy.” Keeley shook her head pretending to be sad about it.

   Darla hugged her close again.

   “How does that famous saying go... Ah yes,” She rubbed her hands together in front of her chest.

   “Mwa-ha-ha.”

   They both laughed.

Chapter eight

   Darla was just starting to play with Keeley's hair, before their meeting with whoever was coming, when the side of the house caved in. Calling the crash thunderous would have been too light, not nearly descriptive. She felt the sound it was so loud, it made her bones ache and rattle with the force of it. She didn't even have time to be afraid when Darla blinked out of existence. Half of her hair in a braid, the left half, a dark strand of it running down her back. She stood, having been sitting on the floor of the white and cream colored living room, near the edge where the carpet ended and the hard wood began. Keeley could see the outside world through the far wall as, spinning a bit, she oriented her body toward the back yard and ran.

   It felt like she should run directly away from the attack and nearly did when the second crash came, but that wouldn't work, because there was no door on that side of the house. By going toward the back yard, she had a chance to get out. Her legs pumped, burning as she flew along. It felt like she moved through molasses, thick and slow, so struggling as hard as possible, Keeley sped up.

   The sliding door was closed, and tried to stick at first, so she grabbed with both hands and yanked until it came free and opened enough for her to slip out. On her way she thought to close it again.

   They might be under attack or the world may just have been ending in some kind of strange coincidence, but either way if something was going to be coming in, making a clear trail wasn't a smart idea. The backyard was nice, she noticed as she ran directly toward the back fence, a solid six foot wooden one, that looked new. No more than a month or two old, since it obviously hadn't weathered yet at all. It didn't rain much here, which could give it a longer life. She started working on climbing as fast as she could, struggling to find purchase on the smooth and sanded slats, her tennis shoes feeling slippery, kicking against the side trying to get over.

   She made the top just as Darla came around the house, a handgun out and pointed. Not at her though. Keeley looked over the fence, but it was just another yard. A man had run out and was looking at her.

   “What the hell was that?” The man, who looked about fifty, had a bald head, a beer gut and a white t-shirt and blue striped shorts called out, looking at her hard.

   “I don't know...” It came out softer than she wanted.

   Darla hopped up onto the fence and waved at the man, the gun gone already, “Mr Rensoe? Someone crashed a car into my house and ran off, we were both inside, did they come this way? It's... Well they flipped the car into the house... I don't know how they managed it, must be drunk. Could you call nine-one-one?”

   The man muttered something that Keeley just didn't catch and turned back into his home. Darla looked at her.

   “Whoever it was hit the house several times, using a compact car as a bludgeon. They escaped, but I doubt most people will have noticed a nine foot tall lesser demon running around, some things are too hard for people to deal with. Pain in the rump, you know? It's external damage so we have to fix this part normally, actually rebuild it. Well, might as well come down. Good job. Most people would have frozen or ran to the far side of the house. Of course if he hit you with a car when you ran this way you'd be dead, or at least dazed, but no plan is perfect and this one worked out for you.”

   They both slipped down the fence just as Mr. Rensoe came back out, calling to them.

   “Girls? The police are sending someone over, is anyone hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

   “No, we're good, not hurt.” Darla called back, not able to see the man at all.

   “I don't know about the driver, the car is really messed up, it can't have been healthy for him, or I guess for her, I didn't get there in time to see anyone.”

   “OK! I'm telling the dispatcher now.”

   The neighborhood was a fairly nice one. Not perfect, but the police came when called and did it within ten minutes. As if trying to make up for being a little late ten cars showed up. It seemed like overkill for a simple report, but Keeley got it after a few minutes when the police chief himself showed up.

   “Miss Gibson, are you hurt?” The man was dressed in a nice suit, gray, a bit too nice for what a police chief in a small town should be able to afford. His car was a bit too fine.

   A lot really.

   If it were a movie Keeley would have figured that the guy was dirty. A crooked cop. But this being real life and given the way that the man kept trying to comfort Darla, touching her arm in a way that didn't seem either fatherly or professional at all to Keeley, it became clear pretty quickly that something else was going on. OK, so most people wouldn't have seen it that way, but it was clear to her.

   Darla didn't wait to be asked anything, just covering the story for the man.

   “So Keeley ran to the back and started over the fence and I ran out to the front, but didn't see anyone. It's even close enough to true that you don't have to feel bad about putting that in the report. Your men can't catch the thing that did this though Roy, so no need to really push them on it. One of those things.” She looked a little wryly at the chief who gave her a cold look.

   “Great. I always love that kind of thing so much. Well, we'll get on it. Are you coming over to dinner soon? Karen's been asking after you. You could bring your friend, that would be fun.” He indicated Keeley with a small movement of the head.

   “Under aged. Honestly under aged. Not like me. Maybe in a few years?”

   The man called over a uniformed officer without answering, which meant that they had to give the whole story again three times, even though Keeley's version was just that she heard a boom and ran away. Which was the truth. It didn't take long. The chief offered to have two officers put outside the house for the night, until a crew could be gotten in to fix the damage.

   Darla shook her head.

   “No need. I have some... Private security coming. They'll love this, but if that thing comes back we need someone here that won't just be turned to hamburger. Not that your officers aren't able, they just aren't trained for this kind of thing.”

   The older man, who was trim and a bit gray, but had a nice tan on his lightly lined face nodded grimly.

   “Always a cluster. Well, I'll leave it to you. Let us know if you need anything?”

   “Thank you Roy, I will.”

   They didn't talk about anything until the police all left, about five minutes later. The car was, apparently, stolen, but also upside down, so it would have to be lifted out. It had been taken from the Wal-Mart parking lot across town. The little silver-blue car had been decently nice in a mid-price way. Keeley wouldn't have blinked about driving it at all, if the dents could be removed. It beat her current “car”, which consisted of her feet. She didn't even own a bicycle.

   Leaning into Darla, still dressed in a white blouse and blue slacks that had somehow managed to not get scuffed or dirty from her fence climbing, Keeley whispered gently once everyone else had gone.

   “You, the police chief and his wife? Um, that hardly seems kosher. You're a high school cheerleader. Shouldn't he, I don't know, go after someone a little closer to his own age? Like someone that couldn't be his daughter maybe?”

   Darla grinned.

   “I've lived in the area for a long time Keels, I took his virginity back in the day and got him set up as the chief of police here two decades after that. It was a deal. I'm also grooming several people to act as his successor. He knows what I am. Or at least he thinks he does. His wife, Karen, she's an old friend of mine, like Hally or Eve is now. It works as a system of getting things done. Find the new crop before the old ones die off.”

    Keeley shook her head. It sounded a little harsh, considering she was sort of talking about her personal friends. Then, if you were going to be around long enough, maybe that's just what you had to do?

   “How old are you? If it's alright to ask, I mean.” She didn't want to be rude, especially if the girl had the police department riding around in her pocket like that. When Keeley did get a car she didn't want to be stopped for a ticket every time she left the house. Especially over something like this.

   “Four hundred and seventy-three. I have a birthday coming up in January, on the tenth, so make sure you remember that. Right now I prefer Italian cream cakes, but I'll let you know if that changes.”

   “Sure, dump that on me now, like I'm going to remember anything about today other than some demon guy throwing cars into your house.”

   “Lesser demon. That's actually an important difference for you to remember. Not to most people, but for you... Also, if you look at the car closely, I think you'll find he was actually swinging it like a club. I know the physics don't really work, but Balthias was always one of the stronger creations of the imaginary friend society.”

   Keeley got up and really looked at the car, then, tentatively, touched it. The story was clear, how it was sitting where it had been left, waiting to be driven again when something grabbed it and pulled it across space instantly. Then how it was held and swung into the dwelling over and over again. She couldn't see it all, but remembered it from the car's perspective. At least inanimate objects didn't feel pain. Not most of the time.

   “Wait, so this imaginary demon guy can do that? Lesser demon, I mean. How?”

   “Really it's the repressed rage and anger of the world's Christians. Not all of them, but enough to do things like this. Kind of a hateful group once you move past the bake sales and Jesus loves you message. Pretty normal social control programming. “Do as we say, or suffer an inescapable threat.” If you ever meet Gregor have a talk with him about it. The whole thing was his idea, originally. Christianity I mean.”

   “A demon created the Christian faith?” Her eyebrows rose significantly. It kind of explained things, didn't it?

   “Well, about half of it. He just ripped off some stories from the time and put it together, Sol Invectus and the Jewish Meshiac. Unfortunately he did such a good job that even modern Christians can be told all of that and shown where it existed in history and just turn around and blame demons for the similarities. They're right of course, but they like to pretend that we somehow went back in time and planted the false evidence. Well, you did a limited area time change of fifteen hours, what do you think, ready to try several thousand years just to mess with a bunch of people? No, it was all Gregor. Really not a moron most days, but don't tell him I said that. He owes me money.”

   Ah. So demons could screw up? Well good to know. Keeley didn't feel perfect herself most days.

   They just sat for a long time, waiting, until finally a tow truck came and a team of workmen, twenty-four strong, with a load of wood and scaffolding in the back of three pick-up trucks. Keeley hadn't even seen Darla make a call. It was freaky. The demon girl next to her stood, stretched without any popping noises, arms over her head, which got half the work men to stop and stare at her chest and then put a hand down for “Keels”.