Free Demon 04 - Deja Demon by Julie Kenner

determinedly silent.

    “Okay,” I said, smiling as if I weren’t at all irritated and liked nothing better than to negotiate breakfast in the morning. “I guess you’re not eating today. Maybe lunch.”

    I moved quickly to snatch the candy packet, then turned and headed toward the pantry. One glance over my shoulder confirmed that he’d turned, too, and was eyeing me. Did I mean it? Would I really put up his cereal? Would the mean mommy really let the little boy starve?

    Apparently she would, because I opened the pantry door and stepped inside. And no sooner had I done that than I heard shouts of “Tiger! Tiger! Mommmmmmy! I want Tiger!” Because I speak fluent toddler, I shoved the Trix back onto the shelf and poured him a bowl of Frosted Flakes.

    “Milk on the cereal?”

    That question earned me an enthusiastic thumbs-down, and so I poured his morning milk into a glass and let him eat his cereal with his fingers, picking out each flake and crunching it noisily before finally swallowing when there was no crunch left.

    While my little one chowed down, I stuck my head in the garage, half-expecting to find my late-night visitor propped up on the hood of Stuart’s car.

    Nothing. And just to be certain, I poked among the garage sale boxes that littered my old parking space, but all I found was bags of outgrown clothes; baby toys Tim had outgrown; boxes of VHS tapes we’d replaced with DVDs; two sets of dishes, each missing at least one part of a place setting; and boxes of other assorted family junk that I hoped would one day become some other poor sucker’s family treasure.

    By the time I came back into the kitchen, Allie had stumbled downstairs, looking about as bedraggled as I felt. She grunted something that I interpreted as a greeting, then opened the door to the refrigerator and shoved her head inside. I eyed the back of her head suspiciously. “You didn’t go back outside last night, did you? Clean up the mess we left?”

    She emerged with a strawberry yogurt in one hand and a string cheese in the other, her face an expression of utter disgust. “Eww! No, thank you.”

    Considering the condition of her bathtub and closet floor, the idea that she’d rushed to clean up probably was a bit optimistic.

    “Had to make sure,” I said, moving to the table to see how my youngest was getting on.

    “Wait, wait,” Allie called, kicking the refrigerator shut before trotting after me. The disgust on her face had evaporated, replaced by wide-eyed interest. “Do you mean they’re missing ?”

    “Just the intact one. The other’s now in a big plastic tub.”

    “But . . . but . . . where did it go?”

    “I wish I knew.” I also realized I hadn’t told David about this newest twist in my demon drama.

    “What’s wrong?” Allie asked, and I realized I was frowning.

    “Nothing,” I said automatically. Then I decided that wasn’t fair. “I called David last night to tell him about our adventure, and he hasn’t called back.”

    “Oh.” She took a bite of yogurt. “Are you worried?”

    “No,” I lied. “Of course not. He probably just hasn’t checked his voice mail this morning.”

    “You don’t think our visitor had a friend, do you?” she asked, now looking about as concerned as I felt.

    The twist of worry in my stomach grew into a full-fledged Gordian knot and I pulled out my cell phone. Two rings, and I was dumped into voice mail. Again. “Dammit.”

    “Do you think . . . ?” She dragged her teeth on her lower lip, her face pinched.

    “No,” I said. “Of course not.” Then, “But I’ll run by his apartment real quick anyway. Just to update him.”

    “Not like you’re worried,” she said. “You’re just bringing him up to speed. Right?”

    “Absolutely.”

    She nodded, looking relieved that I was doing something. From my perspective, all I knew was that if something had happened to David, I needed to know about it. I needed to try to help. I needed to do