Free More Than Fiends by Maureen Child Page A

coming for a visit, and we’ll have a long talk about…everything.”
    â€œYou bet we will. Starting with why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” I demanded, not ready to let her off the hook for never once in my thirty-two years mentioning this weird demon thing.
    â€œWell, it’s not allowed,” Harry said, then added, “Besides, you had so many other things in your life, sweetie. Losing your mom so young. Then having Thea. Then losing your dad. I thought it best to just wait.”
    In other words, she hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell me. And seriously, who could blame her? Sure, it would have been easier on me to hear it from Gram, but—let’s be honest—I wouldn’t have believed her. Still…“You know, Gram, a little warning would have been a good thing.”
    â€œI understand that you’re a little pissy, honey, but Burke women have been doing this for generations. You’ll be fine.”
    Burke women.
    Growing up, I’d always wondered why my mom had kept her maiden name. Why I’d gotten her last name instead of my father’s. Although, to be honest, being Cassidy Burke was way better than the alternative of Cassidy Cossetti. Sounded like a stripper.
    But I never would have guessed that it all boiled down to killing demons.
    â€œOh!” Gram said, excitement crowing in her voice. “And tell Jasmine that I took out a Baranza demon last night at bingo.”
    â€œA Baranza demon?”
    â€œOh, nasty little things,” Gram said. “Always drooling, and they have the ugliest black fingernails. Just so tacky. Though, with the whole Goth thing, they can really blend in with the younger crowd. They stick out like bad plastic surgery in my group, though.”
    I shook my head and leaned back even harder against the kitchen counter. “You killed a demon? Last night? On a cruise ?”
    â€œThat’s the job.”
    â€œBut you retired.” From the bookstore she owned, I had thought.
    â€œWell,” Gram said, “I do like to keep my hand in! Now, sweetie, you listen to Jasmine, and we’ll talk again real soon.”
    She hung up, and I just stood there listening to the dial tone humming in my ear. My entire world had just turned upside down. My sweet, slightly off-center grandmother killed demons at bingo. My ex-boyfriend/lover/whatever was back in town destroying my relationship with my daughter.
    And a blue-haired old lady with spray bottles was going to teach me how to be a superhero.
    I needed a drink.

Chapter Six
    B y the time I got the kitchen straightened up, Jasmine out the door but promising to return tomorrow (oh boy, can’t wait) and the frozen pizza in the oven, Thea was home.
    I knew this because the front door slammed with enough force to peel paint off the walls. Since she pretty much inherited her gentle demeanor from me, I wasn’t really in a position to complain.
    Thea stomped through the living room, pounded into the kitchen and plopped down onto a chair. Then she stared at me with her mouth all firmed up—just to make sure I understood she still wasn’t speaking to me.
    Okay by me. I’d had enough talking so far today to last me a week at least. A little quiet, a little time to gather my thoughts—hah!—a little time to relax and try to get a handle on my new “destiny,” for God’s sake, would not be a bad thing.
    â€œWho was that old lady?”
    My chin hit my chest. So much for peace. “I thought you weren’t talking to me.”
    She gave me one of those looks that said, “Mmoooooommmm”—stretching a one-syllable word into about eighty-five. And one of her eyebrows lifted, too—just like her father’s.
    I was stalling. Hell, I was trying to think of something to say. What could I say? I was still trying to get used to the idea of demons myself—I was in no way ready to try to explain this new truth