Page 73 of A Shade of Myself
I paid the extortionist prices and left, but not before Delilah stole behind the counter, unscrewed a jar of edible glitter, and knocked it off the shelf all over him. Take that, you condescending jerk.
Since I’d promised Marsha, and who was I to break a promise, I loaded up on cheese products: stout-infused cheddar, cave-aged gruyere, and oh baby, a double-cream wheel of brie. At last, having fought traffic all over town, my shopping was done. I pulled up to my house, hot, cranky, and starving. Noon had come and gone a couple hours ago and I had to stuff something into my mouth before hurriedly getting ready for book club at three.
I opened my trunk and pulled out a reusable shopping bag bulging with goods, only to be slammed up against my car so hard that the breath was knocked from my lungs. The bag slipped from my hands and a slow-motion “Noooooo” tore from my lips as the package of teff crackers bounced to the ground, rolled down the lane, and stopped, completely intact.
Not only were they unbroken, the pool of organic lemonade from the now-shattered jug ran downhill from them. Holy miracle, Batman. I had another jug in the trunk but I wouldn’t have had time to go buy more crackers and Marsha would have freaked the fuck out if any little detail of book club had been missed. The universe loved me today.
Then a hairy hoof stomped on the crackers, grinding them to dust.
A stocky Tasmanian Devil–looking demon stood in the middle of the road snorting and growling. Like its animated counterpart, its mouth was full of oversize pointed teeth and its red eyes contained a hint of madness.
“I’d get away from the dog if I were you.” My neighbor Luka stood on his porch, a glass of iced tea in hand. “Looks rabid.” Rather than being his usual grumpy self, he sounded almost pleased that there was a feral animal wandering his neighborhood. The worst of his expectations had been confirmed.
I backed up. Dog, huh? “What breed do you think it is?”
“That big? Probably a mastiff, but it looks like it’s got some shepherd in it.”
The demon made a constipated noise, its tongue hanging out, and flexed its massive hands. Perception filters were quite the marvel if Luka couldn’t see it stood upright.
Or, you know, was a demon.
“I’ll phone the SPCA,” I said. “Have someone come and get it.”
His wife, Dora, called for him and Luka reluctantly went inside.
I unleashed my scythe, black shadows slithering over my skin. “Did you make me believe my child was dead?”
The demon extended his claws and spun toward me like a tornado, kicking up enough dirt to blind me.
My eyes watering, I jumped out of the way, the backs of my knees hitting my bumper as I slashed at it, nailing the fiend in its shoulder.
It yowled and snapped my scythe from my hands, tossing it onto the road where it vanished.
The demon grabbed me in a headlock, its teeth grazing the hollow of my neck.
Feeling blindly behind me, I grabbed one of the bottles of rosé from my trunk and bashed that fucker like I was launching a ship. Glass and booze sprayed out in an arc, but my attacker didn’t even flinch.
Its chokehold intensified. Black dots danced at the edge of my vision, and I clawed at it, my lungs burning. When that failed, I animated Delilah to tear the demon off me, gulping down one huge breath of air before the demon slashed her.
I screamed, bile surging up at the bloody torn flesh on my forearm.
The demon was on me again in a flash, but before I could catch my breath through the pain or solidify my magic into another weapon, there was a deafening wail. Through my glazed eyes, I spied Military Marsha by her open car door, her face drained of all color.
I croaked a warning noise. The demon glanced back, then it threw me into the street like trash. The impact rattled my teeth and sent a fresh wave of burning agony through my still-bleeding arm.
Marsha just stood there.
“Get in your car!” I yelled. “That dog is rabid.”
Marsha stopped screaming and shot me a confused look.
I couldn’t get to my feet fast enough, so I sent Delilah shooting out after the demon, which was less than ten feet away from Marsha. If it got its claws into my shadow, I was done for, but I had to protect the woman.
“Mar—” My cry cut off with a sputter because she flicked her fingers at the demon.
Its feet became twisted wrinkled lumps and it teetered, unbalanced.
“You!” Marsha hit it again with her magic and the rest of it began to rapidly age. “Are not!” The demon bent double, barely able to hobble away slowly. “Ruining!” She kicked it, and the now-feeble creature that was mostly a hump and wrinkles fell over. “Book club!”
