“Nope,” I said, “but if by some chance I get stopped, I don’t want to get a ticket for not having my demon properly secured.”
Part of my text to Jill had been to ask her to bring her personal car instead of her crime scene van. Since I didn’t have an overly large demon to tote around, I figured it was better if we went with something a little less obvious. In theory we could have used my departmental vehicle, but since I was on administrative leave, I didn’t want to be seen driving it around too much, just in case someone remembered that, technically, I should have been asked to turn my keys in for the duration of my leave. And I didn’t currently have a personal vehicle. About a year and a half ago, the engine of the ancient Honda Civic I’d been driving since college had finally gone into a spectacular meltdown after two hundred and forty thousand miles. Buying another car—even a crummy used one—had been beyond my budget and relegated into the category of “things I really should do one of these days.”
Luckily Jill had a nearly new Nissan X-Terra. It took a few minutes to figure out how to belt the demon into the booster seat, and then we were on our way.
Jill glanced over at me after we were both in the car, and gave me a wink. “Look at us being all domestic and mom-like and shit.”
I let out a snort of laughter. “Take a picture. This is the closest I’m likely to get.”
The drive into town was uneventful, though I discovered that Votevha had a preference for National Public Radio. We parked about a block down the street from the coffee shop and walked, the demon trotting along between us. I couldn’t help but be amazed at how much he resembled a human child—not just in looks, but in demeanor as well. He paused to tug on a fluttering piece of tinsel, darted forward to peer at a bug crawling along the sidewalk, pointed and laughed at a battered snowman decoration.
Apparently he looked convincingly child-like to others as well. A middle-aged woman dressed in a full-length leather coat and a fur hat paused in her cell phone conversation as we approached. She frowned as her gaze came to rest on the demon.
“That child needs a coat!” she informed us with an imperious sniff as we passed her.
I gritted my teeth and kept going. “Pushy bitch,” I muttered. I’d even asked the demon if he was cold. What, I was supposed to make him wear a coat he would be uncomfortable in?
“Maybe Votevha can go smile at her,” Jill said, eyes glinting wickedly.
The demon stopped, looked back at the woman. His eyes narrowed, and then he looked back up at me. “Free.”
I blinked, then shook my head, fighting back a smile. “I am grateful for the offer, but it is best that we remain discreet.”
He nodded once, and continued walking. Jill and I fell into step on either side of him again.
Jill gave me a baffled look. “What was that about?”
My