RELEASE DATE: 01 May 2021
The demon she slew last night? Itty bitty. Teeny tiny. Super easy to exorcise.
But this morning, her hands tremble and her jaw twitches.
Her friend Cran better not surprise her.
Her jaw’s not the only thing feeling twitchy.
A pair of demon stories for everyone who knows the need to keep your wits about you when dealing with the supernatural…
Aftermath
“Are you alright?”
I snorted. “Oh, yes. Absolutely.”
Cran gave me a sidelong look. “I was only asking.”
“And I was only answering.” I shifted so’s he couldn’t see my face, and stared out the window. “Of course I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? It was only a small demon, teeny tiny. Barely worth exorcising.” My jaw twitched as I tried to hold back the sarcasm.
Silence for a moment, then I heard the rustle of cloth as he stood.
He left without saying a word.
I was glad.
I waited a while to be sure he wasn’t coming back, then I went to the sideboard and poured myself a few too many finger-heights of lemon vodka. I glanced away so I didn’t have to see my hands tremble.
I was fine. The demon was gone. It had needed barely any prompting, even; just a splash of holy water, a garlic sandwich and a quick prayer—gone.
A tiny demon.
Insignificant.
So why did I feel so damn messed up?
I gulped down the alcohol, ignoring the burn in my throat, and slumped back down on the lounge. I stared out the window, smiling half-heartedly as Molly-the-insane-labradoodle chased the neighbour’s cat across the lawn.
Yesterday, if someone’d told me what was going to happen, I’d’ve called them insane. Actually, I’d’ve prob’ly called them a bloody idiot, get out of my way now, thanks very much. But whatever.
I closed my eyes and draped a hand over my face. The sunlight seemed extra bright and shiny today, and it hurt my eyes to look outside for long.
Something moved behind me and I jumped, whipping out the crucifix from down my shirt. “Dammit, Cran,” I said. “Did you have to come in so suddenly like that?”
He looked abashed. “Sorry.”
Cran never said sorry. My grip on the crucifix tightened and I found myself wishing I could switch my alco for water—the holy kind. “What did you say?”
Fool Me Once
Larelle sank into her armchair by the fire, cosy and pleasantly drowsy. The comforting scent of woodsmoke wound around her, and she sighed. The kids had been a riot today; she was smashed. Even sitting upright was too much effort, and she slumped against the padded innards of the chair, wondering if curling her legs up under her would be worth the effort/comfort trade off. Thank heavens it was Friday.
A knock sounded at her apartment door and, staring into the flickering blue-orange flames and glowing embers, Larelle called out, “Come in!”
The door creaked open. Larelle waited for Jason’s footsteps, but they didn’t come.
“You’re early,” she said, pivoting around to the door, thoughts full of languid disappointment that she had not had time to change.
Her heart skipped, then double-pounded. The figure smiling toothily on the near side of the threshold was not Jason.
Partially because Jason wasn’t six-foot-three with long, dark hair and muscles like something out of a firemen’s calendar—but mainly because Jason couldn’t leer at her with jet black eyes—sclera included—and pointed, gleaming fangs.
“Actually,” the vampire-apparent said, “I believe I’m exactly on time. I do like to eat dessert before my mains. Bad habit, I know.”
“Better for the digestive system,” Larelle said reflexively; her Year 3 students had been studying the systems of the human body this month.
Not that she’d told them the bit about dessert first, of course. She wanted permanency, not a civil lawsuit from parents. “And can’t you only enter houses when invited?”
“True,” said the vampire, and he licked his fangs. “And it was so sweet of you to invite me in.” He rubbed his hands gleefully. “Shall we begin?”