Free Demons are Forever: Confessions of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner Page A

between us. She looked at me, and I saw the storm start in her eyes.
    I scooted over and pulled her close to me. We sat that way for a while, both of us thinking about Eric. Finally, I looked at her, my hand on the bag. “Do you want to open it?”
    She gave only a tiny nod in reply.
    “Go ahead, then.”
    She carefully opened the sack and peered inside. I knew the contents by heart. His wallet. A blank postcard showing the Golden Gate Bridge emerging triumphant from the fog. A man’s gold ring with a ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds, one of the many rings Eric collected and wore, although this one was a bit bigger and gaudier than his usual style.
    When the police had sent me the bag, I’d stared at the contents daily, my heart aching for the man who’d been going about his business, oblivious to his killer until it was too late. At the time, I’d cried myself to sleep wondering if we were his last thoughts, and pitying the man who wouldn’t see his daughter grow up.
    Lately, though, I’d cried for a different reason. Because Allie and I had recently learned that Eric’s death hadn’t been the random mugging we’d once believed. It had been deliberate. It had been murder.
    And, undoubtedly, it had been the result of his demon-hunting past.
    She slipped on the ring then held her hand up, the stones glimmering in the attic’s dim light. “I remember this,” she said.
    “You do?” I frowned, surprised by that. After all, I barely remembered the thing. Eric had always had a thing for rings, something I found amusing since I rarely wore jewelry. He’d owned at least three dozen rings, collected at various places across the globe, and he would wear a different one each day.
    “I was looking for my birthday present and I found it in his sock drawer. I thought it was cool.”
    There were so many things wrong with that statement, I didn’t even know where to begin. “You were looking in your father’s drawers for presents?”
    “Come on, Mom. It wasn’t like I was snooping around yesterday.”
    Good point. “Yes, but how can I ever trust your judgment again. I mean, you’ve just admitted to thinking that is cool.”
    “Yeah, well, like I said. I was a little kid.” She took the ring off and put it back in the bag, then pulled out Eric’s wallet. I knew what she’d see when she opened it—his driver’s license was still in the little plastic envelope, although his money had been taken.
    I watched as my little girl swallowed, then pressed her fingertips over her father’s photo. A single tear snaked down her face, hung tenaciously to the end of her nose, and then finally landed with a plop on the wallet. Only then did she look up at me.
    “Do you think he’s still watching me?”
    “Oh, baby. I know he is.”
    “I can’t even think up his face anymore. When I close my eyes, all I can see is that picture of us in my room. It’s not a memory of the past, you know? It’s just the memory of a picture, and that’s not the same.”
    “You remember him, sweetheart. Who he was and how much he loved you. If you can keep that in your heart, it doesn’t really matter what he looks like.” I tapped her nose. “All this is just a shell anyway, right? It was the man inside you loved.”
    My voice cracked a little as I spoke, and it hit me again how much I’d lost with David’s announcement last night. For weeks, I’d been entertaining the fantasy that while Eric’s form had changed, the man himself was still around. Still watching over Allie.
    Now, I knew there was only me.
    My chest seemed to fill with lead, the weight of loss and the unknown pulling me down. I hugged Allie close, and we sat that way for a long time, just the two of us, lost in memories.
    After a while, she shifted a little, then lifted the bag and toyed with it. “So how come you kept it all up here? Daddy was retired when he was killed, right? So why keep his stuff with your demon-hunting things?”
    I started to answer, but she got