Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner Read Free Book Online Page A

okay?”
    “I’m fine,” I said. As fine as anyone could be who had to deal with demons and a dinner party and keeping secrets from her husband. “I’m sorry. I’m just distracted.”
    It hit me then that we were both upstairs, and the kitchen was unguarded. What if someone spilled something? What if they went looking for paper towels? What if they looked behind the cat food?
    I grabbed his hand. “I guess I felt a little overwhelmed,” I said as I tugged him down the hall. “I’m not much of a Jackie O.”
    “I don’t want Jackie O.,” he said. “You’ve done a fabulous job. Just be yourself and everyone will love you. I know I do.”
    I forced a smile, but I couldn’t force any words. Because for the first time, the honest to God’s truth hit me: My husband, the man who’d fathered my youngest child and who shared my bed every night, didn’t really know squat about my life.
    And if I had my way, he wasn’t ever going to.
     
     
    My opportunity presented itself during dessert. “Would anyone else like some water?” I asked, rising. No one did, so I headed into the kitchen, pulled down our smallest glass (one of Timmy’s with faded purple dinosaurs) and poured in the holy water. Not even half an inch.
    I eyed the tap, wondering if it was sacrilegious to mix holy water with the water provided by the City of San Diablo. Even more important, I wondered if it would render the water ineffective.
    Since it wasn’t worth the risk to either my soul or my plan, I returned with my tiny bit of water in my tiny little glass. Stuart looked at me, and I shrugged. “We never seem to have enough clean glasses,” I said.
    Judge Larson looked amused. “You’re not very thirsty,” he said. “Or are you sneaking a shot of liqueur while the rest of us gorge ourselves on your delicious apple tart?”
    I laughed. “Exceptionally thirsty,” I lied. “I polished off most of the glass just walking back.” As I spoke, I headed for my seat, planning to trip over my own feet and dump the water on Larson as soon as I was in range.
    The phone rang, and Stuart pushed his chair back, blocking my path and spoiling my plan. “That might be Judge Serfass,” he said, referring to the one no-show who’d called to say her plane was late. He answered, but his expression quickly turned to confusion. “I can’t hear you,” he said, in that overly loud voice people use on bad connections. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
    Another few seconds passed as he shook his head, looking confused and frustrated. Then he shrugged and hung up the phone.
    “Who was it?”
    “No idea. Sounded foreign. Italian, maybe. The connection was terrible, but it had to be a wrong number.”
    Father Corletti .
    Out of instinct, I turned to look at Larson, and found him looking right back at me.
    Oh, hell, it was now or never. I pushed past Stuart’s chair toward my own. As I did, Larson stood. He reached down as if to pull my chair out for me, but before I realized what was happening, he bumped my arm and the glass went flying.
    Water splashed harmlessly on the tile. But not a single drop touched the man.
    “Oh, look at that. I’m so sorry,” he said. “How incredibly clumsy of me.”
    “You did that on purpose,” I hissed as I bent to pick up the glass.
    “ What? ” That from Stuart. Oops. The comment I’d meant only for Larson had apparently been louder than I’d thought.
    “I said he really knows how to startle a person.” I stood up and met Larson’s eyes, my smile cold. “No harm, no foul. Water’s certainly replaceable. Tap water, mineral water, bottled water. All kinds of water.”
    He didn’t answer me. He didn’t have to. We both knew the score for that round. Demons—one. Me— nada .
     
     
    Another hour of chitchat and political hocus-pocus and then the guests were finally ready to hit the road. Parties often come to an end in a bustle of bodies gathering purses and car keys, and this one was no