Free Demon's Delight by MaryJanice Davidson Page B

“I’m here to help you.”
    Fear and irritation comingled. She was certain now that he was a do-gooder, determined to “rehabilitate” her, that he had somehow managed to trace her to that other life so long ago. Although she had no idea how, and his accomplishment left her shaken and concerned.
    She took the step that brought her in close proximity with him. Looked him in the eyes, despite the pain of the light. He radiated a surprising warmth that almost had her leaning into him. And he smelled great, reminiscent of fresh bread, coffee, cinnamon, and all the other enticing scents that had once permeated her mother’s kitchen.
    Damn it, she wasn’t going there. “Let me make this very clear. You are mistaken about me. You have me confused with someone else. I repeat, I don’t need and I don’t want your help. Now leave me the hell alone.”
    She turned and strode off, determined this would be the end of it.
    â€œI’ll see you around.” His words sounded like a promise—or a threat.
    â€œI don’t think so,” she called back without breaking stride.
    He didn’t speak again or try to stop her. But she was very aware of his presence behind her as she walked away. She went another two blocks before she looked back. He was still there, watching her. And the light still surrounded him like a sacred nimbus.
    She didn’t like halos or anything associated with them.
    She walked on, disappearing into the shadows.

Chapter 2
    H ERE, kitty, kitty! Come here, kitty. I have something for you.” Rachel crouched at the Dumpster where Gertie usually lurked. She rattled the paper bag, pulled out a pouch of Friskies Fine Cuts and a paper plate.
    A faint meow came from behind the Dumpster, and there was a flash of white and gray as a small cat edged around and trotted toward Rachel. It meowed again, then rubbed against her legs. She petted the cat awkwardly, feeling rather foolish, as she did every night. It butted its head against her hand.
    â€œAre you hungry? I brought your favorite brand.” Rachel opened the pouch and dumped the contents on the paper plate. The cat started gulping the food.
    Rachel allowed herself one more stroke along the cat’s soft fur before she stood. She’d found the animal a month ago, just a kitten, ragged and starving and feral. The kitten’s skeletal state had resurrected terrible visuals of the starving humans in Dachau. Something about its weary, distrustful eyes had touched Rachel. That, and the fact that it would only come to her, despite efforts from Caitria and some of the homeless men. Rachel could only guess that the animal was attracted to her because of her allure.
    She couldn’t bring herself to take the cat home, but she couldn’t leave her to starve, either. So she’d started bringing food for her every night, although she only allowed herself brief contact. She didn’t want to become attached to the animal. She’d had enough loss in her life.
    Rachel turned to go, starting when she careened into a man standing there. She moved back, her eyes narrowing when she saw who it was.
    â€œ You. What are you doing here?”
    The do-gooder from last night, Gabriel something-or-other, squatted down, held out his hand. “I’m here to see you—and Gertie.”
    How did he know the cat’s name? Rachel usually only called her “kitty,” rather than use something as personal as a name. Squinting against the light that seemed to emanate from the man, she stared as Gertie left her food and went right to him, rubbing against his hand. The cat had never let anyone else near her. And she was purring loudly.
    â€œYou saved her life, you know,” he said, scratching under Gertie’s chin. She angled her head back to give him better access, and he smiled.
    The light around him brightened, and Rachel had to look away. “I haven’t saved anyone. It’s enough just