Pax Demonica (15 page)

“Last night,” he said. “I took the girls out. I scored many brownie points by shopping with not one but two teenagers.”

“Last night,” I repeated stupidly. “You mean I—”

“Had a really excellent night’s sleep,” he said.

“Oh. Wow.” I frowned at him. “You should have woken me.”

“No,” he said, grabbing Timmy around the waist and holding him upside down. “You needed it.”

He plunked a pile of boy onto the bed and then sat on the edge. Then he leaned in and gave me a kiss. “It’s a brand new day,” he said. “And after the one you had yesterday—and the one you’ll probably have today—I think it’s safe to say you needed all the rest you could get.”

And about that, I had to agree.

Chapter 12

B
y the time I’d showered and dressed,
I felt human enough to go downstairs. Once I had two of
Signora
Micari’s spectacular cappuccinos and a giant bombolni, I was certain I could conquer Rome, if not the world.

Even Timmy was happy, picking at a jam-topped croissant and making a sticky mess that I repeatedly apologized for while the
Signora
repeatedly told me not to worry, that she was happy to both feed him and watch him if I wanted to take my breakfast outside. I finally took her up on that, filled another cup of caffeinated heaven, then wandered into the garden area to find Stuart bent over a map of the city and the girls heading back inside.

“Did I break up the party?” I asked.

“It’s already hot,” Allie said. “We’re going to go change into shorts. Stuart has us walking everywhere. I mean, why have taxis if no one is going to use them?”

“That’s one of the universe’s biggest questions,” I said. I tapped my watch. “Ten minutes.”

Both girls nodded agreement, then disappeared inside. I walked the rest of the way to the table Stuart had claimed, and he scooted over as I approached, then tapped his forefinger on the two-dimensional image of St. Peter’s Basilica. “If we all go together, I can do the tourist thing with Timmy while the three of you go see Father Corletti,” he said. “And if we follow this route,” he added, tracing his finger along the map, “then we can actually work in shopping on the way. I’m pretty sure that will win me Father of the Year.”

“You’re definitely in the running,” I said, as I leaned in close to study the map. “But can I make a suggestion?” I tapped my finger on the nearby
Castel Sant’Angelo.
“Here first. The Vatican after lunch.”

He tilted his head to look at me more directly, then took a long sip of his coffee before saying anything. “Father Corletti not around this morning?”

“He probably is,” I said. “But I’m sure he’ll be there this afternoon, too. And I know you want to see it.”

“I doubt one of the city’s ancient sites will disappear if we don’t do it first thing.”

“You never know,” I said with a smirk. “But seriously, yesterday was definitely not all about Stuart. Consider it your reward for taking two girls shopping. Besides,” I added, after I took the last sip of my own cappuccino, “I should spend some time getting a feel for Eliza before I introduce her to Father Corletti.”

Stuart cocked his head. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice lowered.

“Nothing,” I said. “But I talked to Eddie last night. He reminded me to be smart. I figure I can only be smart if I’m prepared. And honestly, I love the
Castel Sant’Angelo
. I can’t think of a better way to officially start our vacation than to go there first.”

“Marriage,” Stuart said dryly. “It’s all about the compromise.”

“I’m glad you realize that.” I pushed back from the table. “Because you get to be in charge of the stroller.”

“Lucky me,” he said, then stood up as well. “What about Eric? He have anything insightful to add?”

“No answer,” I said. “I’ll talk to him when I can.” I spoke lightly and hoped that Stuart couldn’t pick up the worry in my voice. Just in case, I rushed on. “I couldn’t get Laura either. Apparently she and Cutter had a hot date.”

“Well, that figures.”

I frowned. “Huh?”

“We leave town and miss all the hot gossip.”

“Better than being the hot gossip,” I said, then immediately regretted my words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s okay. I imagine we
were
the hot topic of conversation for a while.” He took my hand. “And I’m truly sorry about that. Maybe we should host a house party when we get back, just so the neighbors can see that we’re a unit again?”

“And here I thought you loved me,” I countered, making Stuart laugh. Because he knows damn well I’d rather be tortured by demons than play hostess.

We found the girls in the foyer with Mrs. Micari who, from what I heard as we approached, was telling them where to find the best shopping off the beaten tourist track.

“Can we go, Mom? The
signora
says the market has all sorts of stuff. It sounds kind of like the Rose Bowl Flea Market. It could be so cool.”

“You are familiar with it, no?” Mrs. Micari said to me after she rattled off directions.

I shook my head. “No, but it’s on the way. I don’t see why we couldn’t swing through.” I needed to get gifts for Laura and Eddie and some of the neighbors, too. A street fair style market sounded like as good a place to start as any.

“You will very much enjoy, I think,” Mrs. Micari said, beaming at the girls.

Signor
Tagelli, the old man who’d been in the sitting room the previous day, paused on his way to the stairs. He looked at the girls, then at me. Then he turned to Mrs. Micari.

He didn’t say a word, but her smile seemed to falter, and for just a moment I wondered if I’d misread the situation. I’d assumed he was either a guest of the B&B or a regular who came in for breakfast or lunch. Now I wondered if there wasn’t something more intimate going on. Because right then I was feeling the kind of tension that didn’t tend to pop up between casual strangers.

Then again, if Mrs. Micari was having a torrid affair—or even a tame one—that was hardly my business.

Stuart had broken off from me to run upstairs for the diaper bag and umbrella stroller, and now he came back down. My thoughts shifted from the soap opera of Mrs. Micari and the
signor
to the more practical question of how to keep my troupe together as we braved the wilds of Rome.

Mostly, I just decided to wing it.

I told myself I wasn’t being lazy. Instead, I wanted to watch Eliza. To get a feel for her without a formal interrogation. All true. But mostly I just wanted to slide drama-free throughout the day.

It was a lot to hope for, I know, but I am nothing if not optimistic.

Outside, the sun was shining brightly. The old buildings gave the entire area a look of appealing charm, and the shiny cars and bicycles added a bright glow that only underscored the overall feeling that on a day like this, nothing could possibly go wrong.

“Oh, man, Mom! Do you smell that?”

How could I not? The yeasty, sugary scent that came from a bakery just down the street was enough to make my mouth water despite the fact that I was still full from breakfast.

“Can we? Can we please?”

I looked at her, then at Eliza, who didn’t beg with words but managed a puppy dog look that seemed achingly familiar. “Fine,” I said. “We’ll just eat our way through Rome.”

The girls high-fived each other, then took off that direction. Stuart and I strolled more leisurely, as I was determined not to chow down on another carb-filled pastry.

That plan was all shot to hell when the girls emerged with cupcakes. After all, there’s only so much temptation a woman can take, and when it comes to sugar, I’m as weak as they come.

I’m also weak where it comes to jewelry, because over the next two hours I bought two pairs of earrings and a matching silver and leather bracelet from a street vendor in the market. That, however, was nothing compared to the girls. In less than two hours, they managed to buy five T-shirts, four necklaces, two purses, one backpack, three retro-style metal placards with an Italian flag, three chocolate bars, and a wooden yoyo. The last was for Timmy and scored Allie a few points on the good sister tally card.

Stuart didn’t do too badly either, managing to haggle forty American dollars off the cost of a gorgeous leather briefcase.

On the whole, it was a lovely morning, all the more so because it seemed so incredibly average. We all got along, and even the small talk with Eliza was comfortable. She knew a little Italian, which she told me was from high school and not any connection to
Forza
. She told stories about San Diego and enticed Allie with the possibility of learning to scuba dive.

Allie told about her pre-Hunter training stint at cheerleading, about her best friend Mindy, and about the fact that she was getting her drivers’ license soon. The latter was said with a significant glance my direction, which I chose to ignore.

Even Timmy was an angel, alternating between singing to himself, chewing on the yoyo, or begging Stuart for another knock-knock joke. I’d been nervous about taking him out without Boo Bear, but so far he was doing just fine. And I didn’t have to keep constant vigil against the horrors of a lost lovey.

The day was going so well, in fact, that when we sat down for lunch I almost suggested blowing off
Forza
altogether. Frankly, a day without demons was such a rarity that even if it meant waiting another twenty-four hours to see Father Corletti, I was sorely tempted.

That, however, was not the way responsible Demon Hunters behaved. And like it or not, Responsible Demon Hunter was as much my title these days as Mom.

“So are we all shopped out?” I asked as we parked ourselves at one of the pretty little fountains in a small cobble-stoned square. Despite stuffing ourselves that morning—and the fact that it was barely noon—we were all starving. We’d bought sandwiches, light salads and cookies from a vendor and now Stuart was passing the wares out to everyone. I was perched on the edge of the fountain with the girls sitting on the warm stones in front of us. Stuart was standing, and Timmy was the real royalty—the only one with his very own throne.

“You were here two days before us?” I asked Eliza. “What did you do?”

“I—” She started to answer, then stopped, her brow furrowing as she looked over my shoulder.

I started to turn, but when I heard Allie gasp, my slow movement shifted into high gear. I was on my feet and looking past the spray of water within seconds.

“The demon lady,” Allie whispered. The commentary was unnecessary, though. I knew the woman well. After all, I’d seen her twice before—at the market where she’d threatened to kill my son if I didn’t protect the mysterious
it.
And again at the subway when she’d tried to kill Eliza.

She was staring straight at Eliza. Then she turned deliberately to me before snapping her attention away, turning sharply, and heading into the throng.

“Stay here,” I said to the others.

“Mom!” Allie protested.

“Kate!” Stuart and Eliza chimed in at the same time.

“I mean it,” I yelled over my shoulder as I set off after the woman, trusting Stuart to keep Allie in line. And, hopefully, Eliza, too.

Unfortunately, the demon had a head start on me, and I lost her in the crowd. I cursed aloud, and was making a slow turn to scope out the area, when the sharp ring of my cell phone startled me.

I snatched it out of my purse, saw that it was from Laura, and took the call. My demon search could wait. Right then, I had best friend drama to attend to. “A hot date?” I said, right off the bat. I kept turning, my gaze skimming over every face in the crowd, but I couldn’t escape the sinking feeling that I’d lost the opportunity to catch her.

“Hot as sin,” Laura said on a sigh. “Can I just say that Sean is in about a billion times better shape than Paul ever was? I mean, the man had love handles even back when we first started dating. Sean’s solid muscle, but I promise you, there’s still enough love to handle.”

She chuckled at her own joke, and I forced myself to sound stern instead of amused. “I think we’ve just crossed into over-sharing,” I said. “That’s my trainer you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. Like you don’t know he’s hot.”

She had a point. “Since when did you start calling him Sean?”

Laura, however, declined to answer. Instead, she just hummed a little, and that time I did laugh out loud.

“Sounds like things are going well at your end, too,” she said. “Even with the whole dead demon in the airport thing.”

“So you got my message?”

“Sorry it sat in my voice mail for so long. It’s been a long time since anyone took me away for a romantic weekend. And considering you’re about three thousand miles away I didn’t expect to be called into research mode.”

“You’re totally forgiven,” I said. “But if you can take a break from living out your sexual fantasies for a few hours, I really could use the help.”

“Already on it,” she said. “Duvall came from money, and that’s making it easier. Apparently he was one of the pretty boy trust fund types. The kind that dates celebrities and gets into trouble. Lots of articles in the paper over the years about various run-ins with the law and stuff like that. Then he seems to have gotten serious about school—probably told by Daddy that if he didn’t shape up he’d get cut loose.”