Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as she returned to his side and picked up one of the drawers that had been tossed upside down next to the couch.
"That was my friend Pam. She panicked when I didn't answer my cell and called the house. She and Kim are going to come over and help clean the mess."
"You want me to leave then?"
She hesitated. "Only if you want to. It's actually comforting to have you here with me." She looked away from him as if admitting that embarrassed her and put the drawer back in place. She stepped back and froze. "How weird."
"What?"
"They didn't steal my stereo either." She moved a sweater that had been tossed over it by the burglars to show him her white Bose wave system.
That was an odd thing for a burglar to miss. "Maybe they didn't see it."
"Maybe." She pushed it back on the shelf, then turned it on.
Ash frowned as the Bee Gees blared. "Night Fever"? He shuddered. "Disco?"
"Shush," she said, waving at him before she picked up another drawer. "It comforts me when I feel bad."
"How on earth can disco comfort you?"
She picked up a picture of her parents and turned it toward him. Her mother, who looked a lot like Tory, was in a white halter top dress with feathered brown hair while her father was in a yellow paisley polyester shirt and brown leisure suit with curly black hair and a mustache. They were leaning together in front of what appeared to be a New York disco club that Ash vaguely remembered from the late 1970s.
Tory stroked the photo lovingly. "My mother's best friend, Sheri, who is a major shutterbug, took this the night my parents first met. My father thought my mother was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. So he sheepishly went over and asked her to dance, expecting her to say no. She didn't. She thought his bashful hesitancy was so sweet that she said yes. They went out onto the dance floor right as Donna Summer's 'Last Dance' began playing. The extended dance version. By the time it ended, my father went down on his knee right there in the club and proposed to her. They married a year later and were never parted again until the day my mother died."
She swallowed as if the memories were hard for her to handle. Her bottom lip quivered as she swayed to the song. "When I was little, my parents used to break out their disco albums and we'd dance to them until we were too tired to move. Hearing disco is like having them with me again. I swear every time I hear Thelma Houston's 'Don't Leave Me This Way,' I hear my mother's voice singing to me while she holds me in her arms and dances around the room with me laughing."
He envied her those memories of being loved and cherished. He wished for her sake that her parents were still here to comfort her. "How old were you when they died?"
"I was seven with my mother and ten when my father died. He was never the same after she left us."
"She didn't leave you by choice."
"I know." Tory placed the photo back on her bookshelves on top of an old, worn copy of Homer's Odyssey. "It's just easier to say she left than to say she died." She looked at him. "What about you? Do you have any memories like that?"
He tried not to think about it. "Not really. I grew up without my parents."
"Did they die?"
He turned away and focused on cleaning the mess in her floor. "It's more complicated than that which is why I don't talk about it."
Tory scowled at the coldness in his voice that she was sure he was only using to shield himself. "I'm sorry, Ash. Did you know them at all?"
He didn't answer, but she could feel the sadness in him which led her to believe that he hadn't really known anything about them at all.
She watched as he quietly made order out of the chaos the burglars had left. There was an Old World air about him. A really old soul trapped inside a young body. More than that, there was something soothing. As if being with him calmed her deep inside in a way nothing else ever had. It was almost like being home . . . It didn't make any sense, but there was no denying what she felt when she was around him.
All of a sudden, there was a sharp knock on her door.
She went to find Pam and Kim standing outside with two boxes of extra large pizza and a twelve-pack of beer. The two of them looked a lot alike in many ways. Pam was taller and had her spiked hair bleached blond in front and dyed jet black in back. Kim's hair was the same style but the exact opposite in color. Decked out in their uniquely Goth fashion, they looked like they belonged with Ash a lot more than Tory.
Pam indicated the road behind her with her thumb. "Hey, is that a cop in the car across the street?"
Tory saw a brown sedan. "I don't think so. Why?"
"Cause the two guys in it had a pair of binoculars trained on this place when we pulled up."
Ash was at the door before Tory could even blink. He brushed past her, but before he could make it to the first step the car peeled out.
Ash almost summoned Simi to follow the car, but caught himself the moment the words gathered to this tongue. Damn, that had been close. The women would have been shocked to find a demon coming to life off his arm . . .