Free Keeley Thomson (Book 2): Keelzebub by P.S. Power Page A

as they say.” He sounded bored by the topic, that or dry, but Keeley understood the idea. He didn’t want her to think it was a set up.
    Which probably meant it was.
    “Which, since you can read my mind, you know I’m thinking.” It was hard to get used to, people being able to do things like that.
    “I’ll check with Darla and see what she says about it.” That was all she said, but he nodded as if it would be expected.
    “Exactly right. She’s your mentor for a reason. Good head on her shoulders if a little young for the job. But you have to start sometime and I think you’re a great first mentoring project for her. Or you will be if you can stay alive.” As he pulled into the small parking lot with a blue and white sign for Clara’s Catering on the side of a small white building about the size of the Yorks house but with a flat roof and boxier appearance, Dan sighed.
    “I hope that doesn’t bother you? That she’s so new to all this? If you two run into any problems, just know that I’m available to help at any time.”
    Keeley nodded, hoping that wouldn’t be needed. She liked Darla and it really would be sad if she failed in her new job. Especially since that would mean that a certain baby Demon would be dead.
    They didn’t speak after that, just walking to the door of the establishment and walking in, since the sign said they were open. In the front there were a few small tables with glass tops, and old, but matching wrought iron chairs with fairly new looking burgundy seat cushions on them, the place smelled of cookies. Chocolate chip to be exact.
    There was a quick sound of footsteps from the back, and after a second a medium sized woman, who was round faced, and had a body best called sturdy, rather than fat, entered. She was followed by a short man with a very similar build. Both had brown hair, but the woman’s was so curly it looked almost like a helmet on her head and the man’s was perfectly straight and ran down his back, where it was hanging, thanks to the ponytail it was in.
    Like her own. Maybe they could form a club or something?
    “Are you here about the parties then? The ones for the school children?” The accent was flat and a little nasal when the woman spoke, sounding both foreign and odd enough Keeley didn’t have a chance to place it, but the tone was friendly, almost motherly.
    Stepping forward to meet them, Keeley held out her right hand. It was uncomfortable, but this was a professional situation, so she kind of had to do it. That or be taken for a kid playing games. It might be true, but she didn’t want them to think that. The money was real after all.
    The lady wiped her right hand on a small clean looking white rag tucked into her belt, the one holding her white smock shut and then clasped her hand firmly. The shock of it was worse than anything Keeley had ever dealt with before. The woman wasn’t just old, she was ancient. Five or six hundred years, maybe more. She didn’t know herself even. There had been some years lost in there somewhere.
    Obviously she also wasn’t human.
    It was all Keeley could do to hide her reaction, striving for calm instead. Horrible things had happened to this woman. Rape, torture, worse things than that even. On the good side, her people, who’s name Keeley wasn’t going to even try to pronounce yet, but who were commonly called “Hsreth”, were great in the kitchen, and at homemaking in general. Parties too.
    They loved parties.
    The man put his hand out as well. For half a second she wanted to skip it, but she had to know, just in case he was something else, didn’t she?
    He was.
    It wasn’t bad though, he was just a younger version of the woman. Her only child, who was, also, by and large, a copy of her. Asexual reproduction being their way. The man would turn into a female when it wanted to give birth. Then it could go back and forth at need or desire.
    She managed to not sound like she was having a stroke as she spoke, though