Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7)

The missed calls while I was in the demon realm. “You came all the way from New Orleans to bring him here? That must have been a pretty strong feeling.”

 

 

“Yep, it is,” he said, and I noted his use of present tense. “I decided to take a little time off and go fishing while I was over here.”

 

For a guy who felt or knew things about the people around him, fishing seemed the perfect hobby. A different form of peace and quiet than most people sought. “This is a great area for fishing,” I said. “Or so I hear. I think I was nine when I last went fishing.”

 

“It’s not for everyone.”

 

I smiled. “I’m willing to give it another try when things settle down.” That was me stubbornly clinging to the belief that things would settle down. Eventually. “Pellini’s going to be staying at my place for a while.”

 

“It’s for the best,” he said as if he knew everything about the situation.

 

“Hope so. We left him with two associates of mine tonight. I’m one of Jill’s birthing coaches now since Zack’s . . . unavailable.”

 

Marco looked away and remained silent.

 

My chest tightened into a knot of unease at his reaction. “She’s going to have her baby soon,” I said, watching his shoulders tense.

 

His voice was low and thick when he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

 

The knot dropped, taking my stomach with it and leaving a cold fear in its place. Instinct told me to bail, to find an excuse to leave this man’s presence, because no good could come from staying. But I didn’t want to do that. I knew without a doubt people bailed on Marco all the time because of scenarios like this.

 

“My head tells me I shouldn’t ask why you’re sorry,” I said after a moment. “But Jill’s the best friend I have in this world, and I sure hope she and the baby will be fine and healthy and whole and all the other good stuff.”

 

He shifted his gaze to a swarm of insects around a streetlight. “Some things aren’t easy in the best of circumstances.” With each word the air grew a little heavier. The insects faltered in flight. Distant chatter dropped away.

 

“What kind of fish do you hope to get in this lake?” I gasped out the question. Change the subject. Stop whatever’s happening.

 

Marco smiled, and the air cleared. Insects buzzed, and conversation resumed. “Whatever takes the bait.”

 

“Do you eat what you catch?” I asked. Keep the subject changed. That’s it.

 

He shook his head. “Nope. Can’t do it.”

 

“Must be nice for you out in the boat.” Away from people who make you feel their terrible fates, I added silently.

 

His smile relaxed a bit more. “Especially at night.”

 

The dangerous moment was past. “I’d better go join Jill and Steeev,” I said. “Thanks for talking to me.”

 

“Call me.”

 

“I will,” I promised. And I would. I understood a little of how achingly lonely his life must be. His “gift” of clairvoyance—that sometimes expressed of its own volition—likely kept his pool of friends pretty shallow. With a parting smile I headed toward the entrance. In the glass of the door I watched Marco’s reflection as he dropped his head, shoulders bowing under unfathomable weight.

 

A group of giggling teen girls pushed the door open, dispelling the image. I glanced back but all I saw was Marco climbing into his car. A few seconds later the engine revved, and he pulled out of the parking lot and disappeared down the street.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

No one said much for most of the drive back to the house apart from conversational gems such as “Oh, look, they’re building a new Save-Mart,” from Jill, and “Is it supposed to rain tomorrow? I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow,” from me, and even “Squirrels do not seem to like me,” from Steeev.

 

But not a word in reference to the attempted kidnapping from any of us. Evidently, Steeev and I both adhered to the well-known adage Don’t upset the preggers chick while in a moving vehicle. If Jill didn’t bring it up, we weren’t going to. For her part, she was either avoiding the topic or too deep in her own thoughts to talk. I decided it was probably the latter since, though she knew Marco Knight, she didn’t ask about my little meeting with him. Or maybe she didn’t ask because she knew him and his reputation. Instead, she toyed with her phone or gazed out at the exciting scenery of pine trees at night. Steeev remained on high alert as he drove, suspicious of any car that came near us. I sat in the back and tried not to fret.

 

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