Marcella’s accent grew thicker as her temperature rose. “Aye, mi amiga. It means fair fight. Which means I could break a nail, or worse, ruin my dress. Which isn’t from Target. So do not even start this with me, ju—ju—”
“Oh, look. The chick from Hell’s still here.” Kellen interrupted them with his dry remark from around the corner of her kitchen. Her dogs skittered over the linoleum floor, skipped giving Marcella the stink eye because she never let them jump on her cute dresses, ignored Delaney altogether, and headed straight to her bedroom to the corner Clyde was still in.
Marcella rested a hand on the countertop, sucking in her cheeks before facing Kellen. “Oh, look, it’s the crankiest man in the world, and you’re not even wearing plaid pants and scheduling colonos copies yet. You’re like an old man with hemorrhoids, Kellen Markham. Cranky, cranky, cranky. And pissy. Definitely pissy.”
Delaney instantly stepped between them, placing a hand on the wall of Kellen’s chest. They bickered from time to time, and on most days it was pretty frickin’ funny. Very transparent, but still very funny. Today, it just added to the chaos. “Not now, you two. Don’t give me more shit to deal with. We have bigger fish to fry. Like Clyde here.” She thumbed a finger over her shoulder. “Save the witty potshots at one another for some other time, and help me figure this out.”
Kellen planted a hand on her shoulder, gripping it with light pressure. “He’s here?”
Delaney clucked her tongue. “Yep. Tied up in the bedroom. Courtesy of the chick from Hell. So knock it off or the next visit you pay me might be while flames lick your keister.”
“And he claims he’s here to torment Delaney,” Marcella added, her gaze scanning Delaney’s face. “I didn’t say anything in front of him, but care to explain a statement like that? Lowly demon or not, he was sent here for you, missy. We’ve run into a demon or two in our time, but never one with the express intent of making you his target. Your thoughts, O Wise One?”
Kellen and Delaney exchanged glances before Delaney shrugged her shoulders. “Nope. Not a clue. Which is all the more reason he has to go.”
Kellen’s face grew stiff, his grip tightening on her shoulder. “I guess it does me no good to tell you I’ll kick his ass if you want, seeing as he can flambé me with fireballs, huh?”
Marcella popped her glossed lips. “Better watch out. I just might help him.”
Kellen didn’t even give Marcella a glance over his shoulder. He always talked about her in third person, knowing full well it left Marcella feeling dismissed. “Does she really have to be here?”
Marcella came to stand behind Delaney, letting her chin rest on her shoulder and looking directly at Kellen. “She does.”
Delaney could hear the chuckle in her friend’s tone, the taunting clarity of the joy she took in sparring. She loved to bait Kellen. Lived for it. Might one day find herself with the unlife choked out of her for it.
Kellen hitched his clamped jaw at her. “I don’t see why. I mean, what good are you to Delaney when all you do is set shit on fire and float into walls?”
The smile never left Marcella’s face. But Delaney knew without even looking at her—the instant tension in her body told her—that Kellen was pushing all of her friend’s touchy buttons. “If you keep it up, I’ll set your shit on fire.” Marcella wiggled a finger in the general direction of Kellen’s groin.
The dogs began to bark, whining that high-pitched yap of distress, ending the threat of someone’s junk going up in flames.
Delaney skirted around Kellen and made a beeline for the bedroom to find that Clyde was gone—in all his duct-taped fabulous-ness. Her sigh was ragged.
“Holy frijoles. He can disappear already?” Marcela skidded to a halt at the spot where Clyde had been attached to her radiator. “Very, very nice. I still have trouble with that—even when I squeeze really hard.”
Delaney rustled the dogs up, scratching heads and hindquarters. “Well, he’s gone for now.”
Marcella gnawed the tip of her fingernail with a sheepish look at Delaney. “Maybe one roll of duct tape wasn’t enough?”
Kellen barked a laugh, gruff and cynical. “You used duct tape to capture a demon?”
Delaney held a hand up, palm facing Kellen. “Shut it. Not another word, Kellen. It’s not like you have a better solution, now, do you?”
Kellen was immediately silenced.
Marcella stuck her tongue out at him before asking, “So now what, D?”
Her teeth felt gritty, and she needed some tea and a shower. “I have no idea. He’s gone for now and that’s all that matters. How he got gone is a mystery. All I know is, it’s Saturday, and if I hope to rope some customers in, I have to shower and get dressed. I lost eight hundred bucks because of that asshole last night. I can’t afford to whittle away another day worrying about something that hasn’t happened. I have rent to pay, and you know how slow the fall and winter are for me.”