Diesel rolled the van forward. Ammon staggered back, pulled out his cellphone, and dialed.
“This isn’t good,” I said. “He’s calling 911.”
“We’ll have to take him with us,” Diesel said. “Get him!”
Glo, Josh, and I jumped out of the van and ran at Ammon. He took off down the driveway, and Josh tackled him at the gate. Diesel pulled the van up, we wrestled Ammon into the back, and Josh and Glo sat on him while I climbed into the front. There was a lot of grunting and swearing and scuffing going on in the back of the van while Diesel motored off the property and headed for the causeway. There was a loud “Unh!” And thunk. And then there was quiet.
“What just happened?” I asked, trying to see beyond the racks for dishes and holding trays.
“The Magic 8 Ball jumped out of my hand and beaned Ammon,” Glo said. “Ammon seems to be sleeping.”
“Omigod, we knocked Martin Ammon out cold, twice, and now we’ve kidnapped him!” I said. “We’re all going to prison. My mother will have to be sedated.”
“I have Ripple’s with me,” Glo said. “I can put a forgetful spell on Ammon, so he won’t remember anything.”
There was a moment of silence. No one had a lot of confidence in Glo’s spell-casting abilities.
“Here it is on page thirty-seven,” Glo said. “And I have almost all the ingredients with me.”
“Almost?” I asked.
“I’m missing the powdered newt snot, but I don’t think it will matter. Powdered newt snot is mostly used as a binding agent.”
Diesel smiled, and I bit into my lower lip to keep from whimpering.
“Candle burn, smoke expire, Martin’s brain will now retire,” Glo said.
“Do you have a candle back there?” I asked her.
“I have a Bic lighter,” Glo said. “I didn’t bring a candle.”
I heard some pages rustle.
“Whoops,” Glo said. “I lost my place.”
More pages rustling.
“Here it is,” she said. “Brain of dog, trusted friend, remember not the sad end but act as ever.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” I said to her.
“It’s dark back here,” Glo said, “but I’m pretty sure I got it correct.”
The first police car flew past us on the other side of the road. It was followed by two more police cars and a fire truck.
“Maybe we should drop Ammon off at the hospital,” I said to Glo. “How bad is he?”
“He’s okay,” Glo said. “His nose has stopped bleeding, and he sort of has his eyes open.”
“I’ve got his hands tied with some rope we had back here,” Josh said. “I think he’s secure.”
“So if we don’t take him to the hospital, where do we take him?” I asked Diesel.
“Your house. I’m hungry.”
“No, no, no. I don’t want him in my house.”
“Lizzy is right,” Glo said. “I’m pretty sure he’s a demon, and he might infect Lizzy’s house with demon cooties. For a second there when we were rolling around I thought I caught a glimpse of a double pupil in his eyes, and then they might have glowed red.”
Diesel turned off Ocean Avenue onto Atlantic. “He isn’t a demon. He’s a narcissist with demonic ambition.”
“What if we take him to my house and a SWAT team shows up and crashes through my windows and breaks down my doors?” I said. “That would be awful.”
“I won’t lock the front door,” Diesel said. “Then they can just walk in.”
Ten minutes later we carted Ammon from the van and set him in my kitchen. Cat glared at him from a vantage point on the counter and Carl gave him the finger. Diesel went off to find a parking space.
Glo had her Magic 8 Ball out.
“Magic 8 Ball tell me true, is Martin Ammon a demon?”
“Well?” I asked. “What does it say?”
“It says ‘Signs point to yes.’?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ammon was standing in the middle of my kitchen, swaying slightly, his eyes glazed, his hands tied in front of him.
“Demons don’t like salt,” Glo said, grabbing a box of salt from my cabinet.
She poured the salt onto the floor in a circle around Ammon.
“Okay,” she said to Ammon. “Step out of the salt circle.”
Ammon didn’t look like he was totally with the program.
“Maybe he’s confused because I put the forgetful spell on him, and he doesn’t remember he’s a demon,” Glo said.
“Maybe he’s confused because he was knocked out twice and has a concussion,” I said. “What happens to demons who cross the salt line?”
“I think they melt,” Glo said, “but that’s secondhand information.”
Josh gave Ammon a shove, and Ammon stumbled across the salt line.
“Hunh,” Glo said. “He’s not melting.”
Ammon tipped his head back and howled.
“Omigod,” Glo said. “He’s a demon werewolf. We need to shoot him with a silver bullet. Who’s got a silver bullet?”
Josh and I shuffled around. We didn’t have a silver bullet. We also didn’t have a gun.
“He hasn’t got fangs like a werewolf,” I said. “Are you sure you did the right spell?”
Glo thumbed through Ripple’s. “Here it is…uh-oh.”