Sex and the Single Vampire

Noelle turned to face the demon, her hands on her hips. "That was not in the least bit nice. Do we need to have another talk about what constitutes acceptable behavior?"

She traced a few symbols in the air and the demon screamed, curling up on itself in agony. I looked at the five-foot-long cracks that appeared in the cement wall. "Impressive. Now, if we could—"

"The twelve words are needed to destroy the demon, don't you see?" Noelle knelt again before her circle, pulling the stick from her red curls. "You have to get them out of the demon before you can destroy it, and naturally they're a bit reticent to give them to you. Makes for an exciting time, though."

"Right," I drawled, more than a bit worried about the Guardian's lighthearted manner. Guardians were highly respected, more than a little feared people in my circle of witches and wizards, and the friendly, freckle-faced woman in front of me just didn't meet my expectations. "Do you mind me asking how long you've been doing this?"

She drew another symbol. "Almost six months now."

"Six months?" I choked so hard tears came to my eyes as I coughed the saliva out of my bronchial tubes. Sarra cackled. The door fell off its hinges.

"My mum is a Guardian, too," Noelle answered quickly. "I have oodles of experience, really I do. And it's not usually too exacting a job, you know? An exorcism here, sealing a portal to hell there, destroying the odd demon or two—doesn't take up much space on the schedule, leaving lots of time for my real work."

I couldn't help but ask. I just couldn't help it. "What would that be?"

"I'm writing the definitive work on werefolk."

"Werefolk?"

"Yes, you know, werewolves, werecats, werebeetles, that sort of thing. They're a fascinating people, really."

I made a mental note to keep Raphael from meeting Noelle anytime in the future. "It sounds fascinating, yes, but I really must be running along. There's only"—I looked at my watch—"two more hours until sunrise, and I have Christian to save. I hate to leave you. Are you sure you'll be all right here by yourself?"

She blinked at me. "Of course. Why shouldn't I?"

I waved at Sarra. "Well… that is a demon after all, and a powerful one at that…"

She wrinkled her nose and waved me off. "Don't worry about it; I have the situation under control."

I heaved a mental sigh of relief that yet another catastrophe had been averted, and gathered up my bag to leave.

"Oh, Allie?" I turned at the door to look back at Noelle. Sarra twisted until it was snarling in my direction. I sidestepped the bucket that was sent flying toward me.

"The sacrifice that Asmodeus is bound to be looking for?"

I nodded.

"It won't be that of a Dark One. It'll be his Beloved."

That was it; I had reached my saturation point. Nothing else could surprise me. I had seen it all and heard it all. I stared at her for a minute, then nodded again and numbly made my way upstairs.

Fine. Asmodeus wanted me to sacrifice myself for Christian. Roxy had told me it would come down to my making a sacrificial gesture; she'd just never told me it was going to be to a friggin' demon lord!

I pushed open the basement door and stepped into the dark hallway, which was now no longer filled with demon smoke.

Instead it was filled with real smoke.

"There you are," Mrs. Turner said, turning to address me. She was standing by the front door, wearing a pair of Wellington boots, a pink velour bathrobe, and an expression that would give the Hound of the Baskervilles pause. A long, thick yellow hose snaked in through the front door, curled around Mrs. Turner, headed down the hall, and disappeared into a door at the far end. "The kitchen is on fire."

"Is it." My left eyelid twitched. She flinched in response and quickly averted her eyes from mine.

"I just thought you would like to know."

"Ah. Is it serious?"

"The firemen are here now. They say not."

"Okay. I'll be back later. With Christian. Or not. It depends on just what the sacrifice consists of. His friend is upstairs in his bedroom. Please don't disturb him." I thought for a moment. "And don't be surprised if you hear the TV turning itself on and off in Christian's study."

Mrs. Turner's lips tightened into a grim line.

"And there might be some screaming and unearthly noises coming from the basement. Just ignore them as well."

She tightened the belt to her bathrobe.

"I'll be off then. If neither Christian or I return by nightfall, would you contact Raphael St. John at St. John Security Services? It'll be in the phone book. I'm sure he and Joy and Roxy will figure out something to do with Sebastian and the others. Well…" I looked out through the open door and noticed it was pouring, absolutely pouring buckets, a veritable deluge of wind and rain and nasty little bits of ice. "What a lovely morning. I believe I'll walk to the taxi stand."