Demons of Good and Evil by Kim Harrison

            “Bartholomew’s balls,” David whispered over the hush of his seat belt sliding away. “You wanted to come here?”

            Wincing, I peered out the front window at the kids running free and in the wild. Moms and dads oblivious or immune to the chaos pushed strollers over the grassy ruts, their children kicking chubby legs and waving juice cups on the way in, sticky and pumpkin laden on the way out. More often than not, there was a toddler or two in tow.

            “I don’t remember it being like this,” I said as I opened my door and the noise rose.

            “Wow.” David took a steadying breath as he got out. “More effective than a box of prophylactics,” he said as he found his balance.

            My door thumped shut, and I hesitated, the flat of my arms on the roof of David’s car as I studied the main building, the cider press hut, and finally the pumpkin fields. The tangy scent of cider and hot doughnuts made my mouth water. “Sticky,” I whispered. “Al doesn’t have a cell phone anymore. Let’s try the pumpkin patch. You want to ride out there on the hay wagon?”

            David took a careful step, then another, his motions quickly easing. “No. As long as we go slow, the walk will do me good.”

            Still, I hooked my arm in his, hitching my shoulder bag higher as we angled to the cider press building and the smell of cooking dough. David and I were like slugs amid the noise and movement of too many kids hopped up on baby goats and pumpkins. The day was sunny and warm, not a given in Cincy this late in October. I had the city’s most eligible Were bachelor on my arm, and I breathed him in, letting the complex scent of Were relax me as we made our very slow way over the flattened grass.

            “How you doing?” I asked as we found a dusty two-track.

            “Me? I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

            Surprised, I tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear. “Me?”

            “At the hospital?” he prompted, and I winced. “I’ve never seen you mean before.”

            “Yeah, well . . .” I hedged, wondering if misplaced aggression was to blame. I was still mad at Trent. Or my life, maybe. I couldn’t take two girls out for a morning without having a fight with a wannabe city power. “I’m okay,” I said, knowing I wasn’t.

            “That was okay?” David’s grip tightened on my arm as three kids ran by, nearly knocking into him. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

            “I’m a little on edge,” I admitted, then started when a warm, sticky hand grabbed my fingers. “Ray!” I said as she beamed up at me, Jenks sitting cockily on her shoulder. “You’re sneaky.”

            Jenks took to the air, a satisfied smirk on his angular face. “She’s going to be the queen of sneak,” he predicted. “Hey, Mr. Peabody. You look like a cat barfed you up.”

            “Nice to see you, too,” David said, his eyebrows high at the irksome moniker.

            I picked Ray up, content as her weight settled nicely on my hip. “Where are Al and your sister?” I asked, and she pointed to the picnic area, where Al and Lucy sat surrounded by a ring of conspicuously empty tables. Three Dixie cups of cider and an open bag of doughnuts were before them, and the demon in his black pants and a colorful vest didn’t seem as out of place as he might, having a wealthy-uncle-taking-his-nieces-out vibe. Eyebrows high, he gave me a mocking look. Despite the distance, he’d clearly known where Ray was the entire time.

            He’s good at this, I thought, making a little jiggle to set Ray more firmly. Not like me, dragging my life into everything where it stained even the most simple pleasures. But then again, those goat-slitted eyes of his tended to keep people away, especially when they were half-hidden behind a pair of blue-smoked glasses.

            “Have you picked out a pumpkin yet?” I asked Ray, and she shook her head, her attention fixed on David. There was a hint of fear in her grip, and guilt clenched my heart. “This is Mr. Hue,” I said, and David smiled at her. “He’s one of my most important friends.”

            “Hello, Ray,” David said, his voice gentle. “I know both your daddies.”

            “He’s a good guy,” Jenks added, but it wasn’t until the pixy alighted on David’s shoulder that Ray began to relax.

            “Were?” she asked, her high, clear voice sounding small.