I was actually glad Kanesha was busy “studying” – also known as working on her dad – when the time we had set aside to stake out the club came. I felt oddly protective of her. Of course, if her dad found out how close I’d come to kissing her a couple of times, he’d certainly want her out of my life.

Complications. Complications I wouldn’t let happen, even if I did want to feel her lips against mine. Even if I did wonder what she tasted like.

It wouldn’t happen, and I steeled myself against it. Thruor had helped me with suitable garb…that would allow me to fit in without feeling naked and I did have to remember that I was, at least legally, underage. Jailbait. I copied her attitude as best I could as we walked into the club. As had happened before, nobody asked for my ID or checked my age and I had a feeling I’d be fine as long as I didn’t order a drink.

“Well, we’re in luck. Target one, by the bar.”

I followed her gaze and nodded. It was one of the pair of succubi, and she was definitely going for the almost-naked look. “The one only wearing black lingerie.”

“More or less.”

“Definitely her.” She looked different, but I felt that vortex, and it seemed like little bits of people were being pulled into it along with little bits of the light. Not that there was much in here. What there was seemed calculated to cause epilepsy in the susceptible.

Not being susceptible, I circulated through the crowd, looking for her wingman. I spotted her in a corner practically having sex standing up with a middle-aged man who was probably a banker. I contemplated how to rescue him, moved over to the bar and bought a drink.

I wasn’t carded for that either, but it was fine. I had no intention of actually drinking it. Making my way awkwardly (I was wearing pretty high heels) over, I casually tripped over something or the floor, and dumped the entire thing on Banker Guy. He was even wearing a pin-stripe suit, although he’d taken off his shirt. Weird.
Cursing me at some length, he staggered towards the bathroom. “Smooth,” the demoness said. “You know, I was only after a bit of fun.”

“And his soul,” I murmured. “You don’t fool me at all. None of you do.” I wasn’t as upset as I might have been. But her eyes smouldered red-orange. I hadn’t wanted to blow my cover, but…

“Oh, come on. You’ve been hanging out with Tyr too much or something. Loosen up, Aesir-girl.”

She sounded a bit like Martin…but then, they hung out together. And he was the one who didn’t seem to be there. Or maybe he was better disguised. “You don’t know me at all if you think I hang out with Tyr.” Heck, to my knowledge, I’d never met him.

“Then loosen up. Have some fun. There’s a guy over there who might be your speed.”

I was careful not to take my eyes off her as I glanced past her. Huh. Somebody was using a fake ID, for sure. Then I turned back towards her. “How do you know I’m into guys?”

She laughed and relaxed. That was key. If she thought I wasn’t here to bust her… “Well, I could also be whatever guy…or girl…you wanted. And your soul’s in no danger, after all.”

That was a bit of news. And I didn’t think she was lying. “Well, how about we…”

…and some idiot set off the sprinkler system.

I went to check on Kanesha at lunch. She was pale and wan and pushing her food around her plate.

“What’s wrong?”

“They told me that even though he doesn’t have custody, he still has to sign the emancipation papers. A social worker can’t do it. And the custody trial date has been set for right before Thanksgiving.”

“We’ve got almost a month to think of something then. I know a cop who might have some ideas. Or Thea might.”

“The social worker told me I might as well pack. But he can’t actually stop me from going to college.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s broke. He wouldn’t have any money to help you with anyway.”

Could magic fix this? I didn’t think so. Or at least not in any ethical manner.

“He can’t stop me, but he can make me have to wait a year, and that doesn’t help with scholarships unless you spend it traveling or something.”

I nodded. “Okay. So, spend it volunteering. Can he stop you from doing that? There’s plenty of places that could give you hours.”

She hrmed. “While I’m under his roof.”

“He’s not going to be able to stay where he is. That place…no social worker would let him keep a kid there.”

“He’s found a new place. And it’s rent controlled.”

I whistled. “Those are like gold.”

“And he doesn’t get it without dependents.”

“Crap. Well, you aren’t going to be his key to a better life at your expense.”

“Maybe I should be. I mean, I could live with him and go to one of the DC schools and everything would work out if he didn’t think college was a waste of time for girls.”

I considered that. “And he’d lose the place as soon as you aren’t a dependent any more.”

“Can push that to 25 if needed.” She sighed. “If he’d only…”

“I’d say we should introduce him to Thea, but she’s white too. He did seem like he might be willing to listen to me, though. I vote we keep working on him. If he won’t sign the papers…then…”

“Unless he gets himself thrown back in jail.”

I privately thought that was more likely, the way he’d acted towards her. “If you’re around him, 911 on speed dial.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Always.”

It was a mixed crowd that settled down in the hall of St. Jacob’s. The priest, Father William. Mike, out of cop uniform. Me. Thruor.
All we needed, I thought, was a friendly vampire or Loki. Fortunately, the latter didn’t show up. Or unfortunately. I was sure he’d have some good ideas. Or just spike the cupcakes with cayenne. Or laxatives.

But still, how often did we have a Catholic priest and a valkyrie in the same room? Eating cupcakes?

“Okay. So…can your other friend come?”
“She’s having a family crisis.” Kanesha was studying up a storm and reading up on emancipation, and trying to work out if her income was up to it. “Maybe it’s also something somebody here could help with.”

Mike might even have some advice. And he spoke up. “Oh?”

“Her old man got out of jail. She doesn’t want to go back and live with him because he won’t let her go to college ’cause she’s a girl.”

“Oh. Got it. I’ll think on it…but the demons are likely to be eating souls, so…”

He was right. This crisis was more important than Kanesha’s. I put aside the highly unworthy thought that it might be fun to feed Mr. Clem to the succubi. Which it might be. But… “I’d feed them his, if he had one and if I didn’t think he’d give them indigestion.”

Thruor laughed. She knew I was joking. Mostly.

“No feeding any souls to demons,” Father William said, sternly. “Okay. The trick is to get them in a good location. Ideally together. I have a feeling they can communicate.”

“So do I,” I found myself saying. “They’re likely to be holing up during the day and then coming out when the clubs open, right?”

“Hrm. Maybe we could get a club owner on board,” Mike mused. “Somebody with a basement.”

Thruor grinned. “Or a dungeon.”

Father William looked uncomfortable.

“No, it’s a good idea,” Mike said. “They’re going to be attracted to that kind of thing. Drawn to it.” He let his shoulders slump. “Easy pickings.”

“I last saw them in a…toy store…” I admitted. I was almost uncomfortable talking about it as poor William, who was now approximately the color of his communion wine.

“I know just the place. And relax. These people won’t put any pressure on anyone to join in on play time.”

I just didn’t want to know any of the details of play time, but they were right. A place like that would draw succubi like nothing else. And my presence would draw Martin.

This might actually work.

“Not often a kid seeks me out.” Mike leaned across the table. Small cafe. Opposite the cop shop. Good donuts.

That was a cliche there. The good donuts. I munched on one. “I don’t even know how to start on this. But…do you believe in demons? Not the demon rum or whatever but actual, literal demons.”

He paused, then nodded. “You know. I’ve been on the streets for twenty years. I’ve seen things that I haven’t wanted to remember and probably things I haven’t remembered. We had a vampire hanging around the Black Cat a few years back. A real for true blood sucking vampire. We don’t talk about these things. We’re keeping people safe. But some of that excessive force you hear about…”

I let out a breath. “Three demons. Two of them are succubi. I’m less sure on the third one. I have a priest handy, but…”

“You need to set a trap for them.” He studied me. “The third one.”

“Male. Wants in my pants. For the challenge, I think.”

“Statutory rape.”

“Possibly. He seems to be whatever age he wants.” I elected right then not to tell Mike I was anything but a girl who’d got pulled into this stuff.
“So, this is what’s going on with you. That big blonde you hang out with’s a Hunter, isn’t she?”

I paused, because it wasn’t quite true, then nodded.

“You should still think about what I said. Like I said, you’d be surprised how much we cops know about the real world.”

My lips quirked. “Some of you probably know more than I do.”

“And I think I have a good idea of how to trap a couple of succubi. They’re not the smartest, from what I know. No direct experience, but… One thing to remember. Succubi and Incubi are the same thing. They…”

“…change sex depending on their target. Got it. That makes sense.” I should have thought of it. Or maybe remembered it, but I wasn’t sure.

There was no guarantee I’d ever known anything about demon hunting. But my instincts had led me to the right man. I just hoped he wouldn’t get hurt.

I rather liked Mike. He was another antidote to all the jerky XYs out there, another breath of fresh air. And it was nice to know that there were some good cops in town. Something else I’d often wondered, especially when Kanesha or Lugenia had complained about yet another black kid being arrested for something a white kid could have got away with.

“Right. But once they’re locked onto somebody, they’ll do stupid stuff to get to them. They’re hyper-aware of the location of churches, though. They know that somebody will run into one.”

I considered that. “And Christians don’t do temporary consecration like witches do.”

“Maybe we could use a witch as well.”

“I know a couple,” I thought out loud. “I’ll talk to them. Depends on whether the Father will work with them.”

“Always the question.”

No real rivalries. I stored that comment up in my mind. It wasn’t the gods that fought but their followers? Maybe.

I bumped into Martin again outside an adult store. He looked closer to 21 than 16 now and was flanked by two women dressed like Thruor on one of her modeling gigs.

Succubi. I wasn’t stupid. “You brought friends.”

He grinned, then shrugged, “Just out for a bit of fun.”

“I know how that kind of fun ends.”

“Oh, come on. They aren’t going to eat anyone’s souls.”

I shook my head. “Well, with them, you don’t need to be trying to get into my pants.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, but…” The two women made me uncomfortable, exuding a kind of raw sexuality that wasn’t…right.

“Oh, it’s them you don’t want to hang out with. Why don’t the two of you go have some fun?” Both women detached themselves from him and wandered into the store. Did demons need to buy toys?

Maybe they were figuring that the customers would be easy prey. Which was possibly true. “So, what’s with the lady friends?”

He shrugged. “Protection from the next fomori who decides that demon hunting is fun. Fortunately, his banishment spell wasn’t very good.”

Ah, so that was what the ugly giant was. I stored it up for later research. “Or unfortunately, depending on your viewpoint.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re hot, but I don’t trust you.” That was honesty.

“Good.” He stretched. “Sure you don’t want to come play?”

“Statutory rape.”

“Like you’re really sixteen,” was all he said, turning to walk away.

That I didn’t know about. I felt sixteen. At least I seemed to have all the same confusions and hormones and fluctuations as the other sixteen-year-old girls around me. If my age was measured differently in years it wasn’t measured differently in maturity.

And neither was his, but he could always make himself look sixteen again, then he wouldn’t be arrested. But I wasn’t going to sleep with him anyway. No. But if I could convince him…it was the best way to trick him into a proper banishment spell. I needed to work out what to do about those succubi, though. I wasn’t exactly going to stake out Barry as bait for them. I needed a guy who could take care of himself.

And my thoughts went right to the cop, Mike. Asking for his help might get more pressure on me to join head start, but…

He could handle them, he could fight, and I had a feeling he knew a bit of what was going on. At least as much as Prue did. Using anyone as bait was awkward, but I couldn’t see another alternative. Unless I convinced them to go after me, but that would, I thought, cool Martin’s ardor.
Which if we were going to trap him…

I couldn’t see any other choice.

St. Jacob’s was, despite the very English name, a very Spanish church. I looked at the mass times and decided the best time to catch the priest was after the late mass and before, hopefully, he headed for lunch. Uncomfortable with the idea of being there during the actual service, I slipped in as people left and saw him, in a plain cassock, talking to a couple of women. I waited for them to move away before approaching.

“Can I help you, my child?”

“Can I talk…privately?” He’d probably think I needed counseling or something, and I tried to keep that sort of tone in my voice, for public consumption.

Maybe I did need counseling, but I knew what a Catholic priest would say. He’d say that I should turn away from unnatural desires for other women.

In other words, choose. I wasn’t going down that road, at least not yet. “Of course.”

There was a small room off the church. Not the vestry, but an office of sorts. “So, what is wrong?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I need an exorcist.”

He studied me with a sudden intensity. “You do? Not for yourself…”

“Oh, it’s…not like that. He’s not possessing anyone. He’s…uh…”

“…and I get dragged in again. I’m going to spray holy water in his face.”

He didn’t specify who. I knew who he meant. “I wouldn’t think he would know any priests.”

The priest laughed. “You’d be surprised. You’d be surprised how many of us know monotheism is crock. But acknowledging somebody’s existence isn’t the same thing as worshipping them. So, Loki sent you to me.”

“He sent me to your church. For help dealing with a demon that wants to get in my pants. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, sitting down. “I really thought I was well clear of all of this and could just tend to my flock, but I suppose you never really get out.”

“I know I won’t.” I wasn’t about to tell him anything about my own identity. “But then…I’m not sure I want to.”

“Probably the best way to be. Not sure you want to. That way you won’t wish for a normal life quite as much. Okay. I can do an exorcism, but we’d need to lure the demons into it.”

I nodded. “Well, the one who wants in my pants, that’s easy enough. I don’t mind being bait.”

“Be careful with that.”

“Oh, I won’t let him actually, you know, but…honestly, that’s why I want to get rid of him. That and demon fun…generally ends with somebody getting killed.”

“And somebody losing their soul.” That had the tone of a warning.

But I was able to answer confidently, “Mine’s safe.”

Making up with Barry helped. Kanesha’s dad was the more scary aspect. And then there was Loki. Who showed up right after my shoot…with cayenne.

“Oh, for…”

He grinned. “I thought you might have a use for it. Besides, needed to warn you about something.”

I nodded. “What’s on the loose?”

“Your demon friend is back, for starters. He has the serious hots for you.”

I blushed. “Don’t worry, he won’t get anywhere.”

“Best not to. The Old Man wouldn’t approve, and he has his ways of making relationships he doesn’t approve of extremely awkward.”

I envisioned raven eyes through bedroom windows and laughed a bit. “I don’t know about relationships. So, just him?”

“He brought friends. They aren’t as nice.” Loki turned serious for him. “They won’t hurt you, but I don’t know about anyone else. They’re out to have fun, and demon fun always ends with somebody getting killed.”

My lips quirked, “And your fun?”

He just held up one finger and I shook my head. “Cayenne in the brownies.”

“Nobody was hurt.”

“Me being blamed for cayenne in the brownies,” I pointed out. “You in the reflecting pool.”

He mock backpedaled. “You wouldn’t do that to little me.”

“Yes. Yes I would.” And that was despite the fact that I liked him and felt attached to him. I’d still push him in there given half a chance.

“Mean woman. Here I am doing you a favor.” He grinned.

“I’ll watch out for them. Should I track down an exorcist?”

“Not many priests know how to do that any more. Check the Catholic churches, that’s your best chance. But it’s a bit of a neglected art. Unfortunate.”

“Not worried they’ll exorcise you?”

He laughed and turned around to walk backwards as I headed home. “Wouldn’t work. I’m not a demon.”

“If you’ve ever put anything in communion wine…”

“Oh, what a good idea.” He laughed again, then turned around the proper way. “Don’t worry. There are certain rules…but…hrm.”

I knew I wasn’t really giving him ideas. I mean, he had to have all of them in his very makeup as God of Mischief, but… “Just not when I’m trying to get a priest to help me.”

“Try St. Jacob’s,” he said, and then apparently saw something shiny in a nearby store and darted off like a cat with ADHD.

What was I to do with him?

“He was nice?”

I nodded. “He was. I think he might have been mildly stoned, though. That and trying to use me against you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he was stoned. He’s always easier to deal with when stoned. If I hadn’t thought it might get you into trouble I’d have suggested taking a joint.”

I laughed. “Then he’d have made me smoke with him, though.”
“And? How much does it affect you?”

I considered that. “No idea. But hey. I survived Southeast.” I wrinkled my nose. “I hope he doesn’t stay in that room. It’s moldy.”

She wrinkled her nose back. “Ugh. Makes me wish I could help.”

“Get that scholarship. Go out of state if you can…then you’ll be further away from him.”

“And you.” She hesitated, looking at me. “I don’t want to be further away from you.” Then, for some reason, she turned and left.

Or maybe I knew exactly what the reason was. She’d never dated, after all, so there was no reason why she wouldn’t be…and I…and…crap.

No. I couldn’t let that happen. She was in enough danger as my friend. Plus, I didn’t want to pull her into that maelstrom of confusion.

Didn’t have to choose. Did have to choose. Didn’t have to choose. I knew which I hoped was true, but could I be sure?

So, I just watched her go, and then finished getting ready for school, heading out into the morning. It always felt too early at this time of year, even more than in the summer. Why couldn’t they switch us to a sane schedule?

Because all of the parents objected. And the stores that employed us. I shook my head, brushing back my hair, reaching the school gates just before the bell. Kanesha was…hopefully right behind me. I hoped she wasn’t so upset it made her late.

But I was upset, and I couldn’t quite hide it. “You alright?”

Barry Clark. Gods. He’d chosen now to stop avoiding me. “I’m fine,” I said, quietly. “More than, in fact. Just that…eh. Life, you know.”

“At least you have a chance of graduating now,” he quipped. “And my parents have stopped being quite so mad with me.”

“You still don’t have a chance.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m dating Patsy Lawrence.”

I considered that, then nodded. “I can see what you see in her.” Pretty without being so pretty guys would fight over her, good cook…and they’d fit together. They’d fit together perfectly.

“Thank you. Can we be friends?”

“I…alright. Just that if anyone kidnaps you again, don’t blame me.”

He laughed. “I’ll blame me. I could have just walked away, after all.”

“Exactly.”

The room was “furnished” with a rotting futon, a table and two wobbly chairs and an overstuffed armchair under an art deco lamp. That looked to be the only thing worth anything in there. “So…”

“So. You want me to leave Kanesha alone. She’s my daughter.”

“Your daughter who’s heading for a college scholarship and a career as a school teacher. If you don’t screw it up for her.”

“No girl needs college.”

I laughed. “Okay. Put it this way. Do you want to have enough money to retire some day or not? Because she can help you, but not if you sabotage her.”

“So, I’m supposed to leave her in that place?”

“It’s only until she’s 18. Let her do what she wants. What she needs.”

“She’s a girl.”

“So am I. And I sure as heck don’t plan on depending on any man. You want her to depend on somebody who lets her down? Maybe worse than you did?” Below the belt. I knew that.

He growled. “I didn’t let her down. I didn’t do it.”

“Doesn’t matter whether you did or not. She needs to be her own woman.”

And then I heard gunshots.

He moved to the window, but smartly, his body mostly behind the wall. “Just the kids across the street shooting cans again.”

“As long as it’s only cans.” I relaxed. “Look. You’re swallowing a lot of pride even listening to a white chick. I appreciate it.”

“I’m listening because…” He frowned. “…you know her better than I do.” He sounded disappointed.

“I probably do. She’s had to make her own way, and she’s good at it. Her grades are way better than mine. She will go to college. I’m helping make sure of that. But right now you have her so scared she’s looking into emancipating and getting enough income to do that’s going to mess up her studies. Give her…space. And I think she’ll let you back in her life. If you don’t press her.”

“I’ll think about it.”

There was another gunshot. And then another. I used the cover of them to slip back outside, stepping into the street. In a vacant lot opposite there were, indeed, a group of boys shooting air rifles at old coke cans. They were scarily accurate but, I supposed, it was a harmless enough activity.

He’d been nice to me. Or maybe the slight smell of something not tobacco in the place had had something to do with it…

Something about me kept the general riff raff away, though. I’d never been here before. I’d never dared.

I had the gun. I could deal with anyone who messed with me, or at least I thought I could. Maybe I was too cocky. But all I saw, really, was sullen faces, the expressions of people with little or nothing left to lose. I did feel something of a desire to help them, but it was tempered by the certain knowledge that there was nothing I could do.

If I ever became a one percenter or something. But I couldn’t answer the prayers in those faces. Those who could didn’t care. Wasn’t there a correlation between wealth and sociopathic traits? Or success…

But these people hadn’t even failed. They’d just been stork dropped here, dark skins in a dark part of the city. I didn’t just feel conspicuous. I felt guilty, as if my white skin alone was enough to mark me as privileged. Telling them I was as broke as they were wouldn’t avail me anything.

And if they knew what I was? Nah. They wouldn’t believe it. I could almost feel the miasma of cynical depression over this place.

Kanesha’s father was living in a battered tenement, renting a single room from a landlady who answered the door in, cliche alert, hair curlers and bunny slippers.

“Don’t need your kind here.”

I put my foot in the door. “I’m trying to stop something from going violent. I need to talk to Mr. Clem.”

“Nobody talks to Mr. Clem without Mr. Clem’s say-so.”

I could see it in her eyes. She was afraid of the man. Not surprising, really. He was a man who warranted it. More quietly, “He’ll hurt you.”

“No. I can handle him.” I kept my voice quiet, confident, but I still felt as if I did not and never could belong in this place. Race. It echoed through everything and I knew from the internet that a good portion of those who followed the Norse gods were racist bastards.

I wouldn’t be like that, but standing here I understood why people feared the black man, or maybe it was the legacy of slavery that scared them, a past that was being visited…was it the seventh generation yet? I wasn’t sure. The sins of the fathers…but they weren’t mine. Maybe. I didn’t know.

“Your funeral.” She let me in, and I walked into a corridor in which the paper cracked and bulged and I was pretty sure that patch on the carpet was black mold. As unpleasant as the group home was, anyone who would think Kanesha was better off here was crazy.

Of course, she’d said he wasn’t going to stay here. It was temporary, and anyone could put up with a fair bit knowing it was temporary.

“Upstairs.”

I went that way, feeling the stairs creak and crumble beneath me. “Mr. Clem.”

“Kanesha’s pasty friend.” Clearly he recognized my voice.

“Yeah. I do have that disadvantage. But I only want to talk. Can I come in?”

“You armed?”
“Do I sound stupid? I’m in Southeast.”

He laughed…and opened the door.