was a simple round knob. The blade was unadorned. Even the scabbard was merely functional as opposed to decorative. But I found beauty in simplicity, and she’d always been true to me.
I practiced drawing and sheathing it a few times, finding my center, and focusing on just what I was doing at that moment. I felt better with it in my hand. Sure, I could use other weapons, but I was most comfortable with the katana. It made me feel more balanced. I laid it again in the front seat of my truck, then went to attend to some of the more mundane aspects of my life.
Technically, I had another hour before Kidd’s reflection period was up. He could wait while I threw some laundry in.
That’s right, ladies. I do laundry. I figure it’s a fair trade, since Mira actually works full-time and looks after Annabelle. I’d offer to cook, too, but face it: Mira runs circles around me there. If it were left to me, we’d have pizza rolls for every meal. I’d be okay with that, actually. She would not.
By the time I got the laundry sorted and a load thrown in the washer (how in the world does one five-year- old child go through that many socks?), I had three hours to myself before Mira and Annabelle came home. If I was going to call Kidd, I needed to do it now.
9
The phone rang so many times, I started to believe Kidd had packed up and left town. His agent had been most determined, after all. When someone finally answered, there was a jarring clatter as the receiver was dropped and possibly kicked across the floor in someone’s haste.
“Wait, wait, don’t hang up! I’m here!” The voice was distant, tinny, but the receiver was rescued, and I could hear Kidd’s heavy breathing as he tried to calm himself. “I’m here.”
“Run for the phone?” I received an affirmative grunt in reply. “Your time is up, Mr. Kidd. Have you reached a decision?”
He was quiet for a few moments. Maybe he was giving himself one last chance to butch up and take his punishment like a man. In the end, he sighed. “I cannot continue this way, Mr. Dawson. Please help me.”
It was what I expected. “All right, here is the plan. Tonight, after dark, I am going to pick you up, and we’re going to drive out into the middle of nowhere. Then, you’re going to call your little friend’s name, and he’s going to come pay us a visit. At that point, we’ll negotiate the terms of the challenge. The challenge itself won’t happen tonight, but we’ll lay the groundwork.”
There was a long hesitation on his end. “How long should it take?”
“You have a date, Mr. Kidd?”
“No, I… My team is flying in tonight. We’re playing a series here this week, and I’ll need to report back to the hotel. They keep the players on curfew.”
That might make things a bit tricky. Things would take as long as they took, and not a moment less. It wasn’t something I was willing to rush. “I’ll try to have you home before you turn into a pumpkin, all right?”
“Is there… anything I need to do? Or bring?” He got a few points for at least being willing to help.
“Just show up, and when I tell you to, speak the name.”
“You want me to call it? Can’t you-?”
“No.” I cut him off right there. No way would a demon’s name ever pass my lips. I didn’t need that kind of attention. It was bad enough I had about a dozen of the vile monikers swimming around in my mind. Nobody should have to have that filth in his head. “I suggest you get some rest today, Mr. Kidd. We could have a long night ahead of us.” I hung up without waiting for a response. Old habits are hard to break.
There was no telling how long the negotiations would actually take. The lesser demons, the Scuttles and Snots, weren’t real picky about terms. The Snots rarely got past saying, “Rawr, me smash!” They just wanted a chance to fight, to work themselves up their brutal hierarchy, so they’d agree to something fast and dirty. It was the Shirts and Skins, the powerful ones, who could give lawyers a run for their money. They’d want every single detail nailed down, preferably to their advantage.
I’d have no way of knowing which I faced, until Kidd said the magic word and the demon made its grand entrance. I hate surprises.
And speaking of surprises, my doorbell rang. I answered it to find our across-the-street neighbor standing on my front step. I smiled. “Hey, Dixie.”
Dixie is that neighbor who knows the neighborhood’s story of the last fifty years and more. She can tell you the names of the original builders of most of the houses, she knows what happened to the grand-children of a man who hasn’t lived here in thirty years, and she can probably tell you what everyone on the block was having for dinner that night. Every neighborhood has a Dixie.
Widowed, her children grown and gone, she’d adopted Mira and me, and she doted on Annabelle worse than my own parents.
The white-haired woman smiled back, tucking a pair of muddy gardening gloves into her belt so she could shake my hand. “Hello there, Jesse. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor.”
“Sure, anything.”
“Jack’s not going to be able to come by to mow the lawn until next week, and it’s looking positively shaggy. Do you think you could… ?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, sure. Just lemme change clothes.” I was Jesse Dawson, champion of lost souls and amateur groundskeeper.
Appropriate lawn-mowing clothes donned and sunblock applied (the last thing I needed was to try and wear mail over a sunburn), I headed across the street to mow Dixie’s lawn. It wouldn’t take long; she had a nice riding mower and a yard the size of a postage stamp. The only problem was skirting the artful but inconveniently placed flower beds. There were four.
As I motored carefully around the yard, I became aware of eyes on me. Glancing around, I saw only Dixie’s enormous tabby tomcat perched atop the birdbath. Garfield was an aloof creature, merely tolerating my presence on a good day, but today he watched me with uncanny alertness. Seeing that he had my attention, the large cat flicked his tail once, and the eyes glowed red for a heartbeat.
“Oh no no… Axel…” Dammit. “Come on, the lady’s cat?”
He gave a feline leap as I neared and settled his large bulk quite comfortably in my lap. My skin crawled, and it took everything in me not to chuck the creature under the mower deck. “You said no more local wildlife,” he said, in my voice. “This is not wildlife. This is possibly the most disgustingly domesticated creature I’ve ever seen, besides you.” It wasn’t fair that he didn’t even have to raise his voice to be heard over the mower.
The last thing I needed was for the neighbors to see me talking to myself. I muttered under my breath. “Yeah, but she’s gonna be heartbroken when the cat keels over dead.”
“I can leave it alive, if you want, when I vacate.”
I looked down at the cat in my lap. “You can?” He nodded. It was an odd gesture, coming from a cat. “Then quit killing my squirrels, too!” I maneuvered around a large oblong flower bed in the middle of the yard.
“What’s it worth to you?” My contempt must have shown on my face, because he chuckled. “You have no sense of humor, you know that?”
“I’ve been told. What do you want? You’re not normally this clingy.”
“Just keeping an eye on my favorite demon slayer.” He actually began washing his ears in true catlike fashion, then blinked at his own paw. “Eugh, why do they do this?”
“You know, you can keep an eye on me quite well from the birdbath. Or from the house. Or from another state. Anywhere but from my lap.” It was like Marty or Will crawling into my lap. Ew. Guys just don’t do that.
“But I’d miss our little talks.” I swear the cat pouted.
“Don’t you love me anymore?” I know I gave him a scathing look then, and he actually purred. “You’re a collector’s item, you know. A dying breed. Fewer and fewer of you all the time. It’ll be a pity to see you all go the way of the dodo.”
“Well, I don’t plan on keeling over any time soon, so you can stop fretting your pretty little head.” I wheeled around the heart-shaped flower bed, making a mental note to get the Weed Eater and finish trimming around it later.
