Free Pax Demonica by Julie Kenner Page A

body was doing before that?”
    She had a point, but I didn’t want to admit it. That’s me, the eternal optimist. Fortunately, I was saved from answering by the fact that we’d arrived back at the B&B. “Where’s your camera?”
    “In my backpack.”
    “You gave it to Stuart on the plane so he could switch out the batteries.”
    “And he gave it back.”
    I handed her the key to the room Stuart and I shared. “Just in case I’m right.”
    She rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue as she sprinted for the stairs. I watched her go, tapped my foot, then glanced at my watch. Stuart and Timmy were perfectly safe (I told myself) but I still wanted to hurry back to them.
    “Katherine?”
    I jumped, then turned to find Mrs. Micari behind me, her hands hidden under a dishtowel.
    “You are back so soon.” Her gaze darted from me to the stairs and then back to me again. “Is something wrong?”
    “Not a thing. Allie just forgot her camera.”
    “Ah, I see.” Her lips pulled into a thin line.
    “Is that a problem?”
    She waved my words away as if they were the silliest thing she’d ever heard. “Is nothing. The cleaning. I have just waxed the bathroom floors.” Her tone was casual and the tight lines of her face disappeared so completely that I had to wonder if I’d imagined them.
    “Signora,” I began, but that’s as far as I got before I was interrupted by the high, powerful punch of Allie’s scream.
    And this time, I knew it wasn’t about a jacket.

Chapter 7
    I took the stairs three at a time and found Allie standing in the middle of my ransacked room. Every single piece of luggage had been opened. Every single item of clothing had been tossed out. Drawers hung open and empty. The mattress lay askew, most of its bulk now held up by the floor.
    I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even curse. Because what the hell was there to say?
    “I don’t think they even took anything,” Allie whispered. She thrust her hand toward me and I saw the camera, the brand new Nikon that Eric had bought for her. Definitely not the kind of thing your average thief would pass up.
    “It was on the floor, just right there on the floor,” Allie said. “Like they couldn’t care less.”
    I was certain she was right—demons weren’t big on scrapbooking, and they rarely have Facebook pages.
    From behind us, Mrs. Micari drew in a sharp breath. I whipped around to face her. “What the hell did you do?”
    Her hand flew to her chest. “Katherine, no!”
    But I wasn’t interested in hearing it. I pushed past her into the hall and sprinted to the bathroom. As she’d said, the floor was damp, the entire room smelling of disinfectant. Proof she was innocent? Or proof she knew how to manage a cover-up?
    Allie’s footsteps pounded down the hall, and she came to a breathless stop behind me. “Mom, it wasn’t—I mean, there was someone in the room when I got there.”
    I went cold. “What?”
    “The window,” she said. “It was open and he ran out. A kid. Grungy. I didn’t get a good look, but I bet he was—”
    “A gypsy. Right.” What she really meant was ‘a demon,’ but since I hadn’t told Mrs. Micari that I’d actually made the acquaintance of any local demons, I wasn’t going to say so out loud. Allie’s eyes darted to our innkeeper and back to me.
    “Looking for stuff to sell, probably,” Allie said. “And I guess I came in before he loaded the good stuff up.”
    “Looks that way.” I turned to our hostess. “ Signora , I’m sorry. I—”
    She waved her hands, shooing away my words. “No, no. You are right. Is my home, is my responsibility. I do not understand, though, how this child got in.” She frowned, then turned back toward our room.
    I followed, then hesitated, taking Allie’s hand and tugging her to a stop. “Your room?”
    “It’s fine,” she said. “I opened the door, remembered you were right, and turned around to go to your room. But I saw it. Nothing messed up at all. Well,” she