Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

T he next morning is as hectic as any other. Moreso, actually, because I slept terribly. And I'm not sure it's just because I didn't take enough sleeping pill. I really should have kept the dang cookie jar in my room so I could keep an eye on it—on him. Every sound I heard, whether it was just the wind or the cat going down the stairs, startled me. I have no idea how many times I got up and went to check on Bella, who was sleeping soundly. Too soundly? Ugh, I was totally paranoid. At one point, I even checked to make sure she was still breathing. Of course, she was. She was always a heavy sleeper.

"You have orchestra practice today," I tell Bella as she puts her shoes on.

"I know," she says with a sigh. "It's already in the trunk."

"Good job," I say as I dump cat food into the communal bowl. The dog actually prefers cat food, so Dash and Mr. Darcy both eat the same food out of the same bowl. They are both grazers and just eat whenever. I'd been told that such feeding habits were not healthy for them, but anything to make my life easier is a win in my book. Besides, they are both considered senior pets and are in really good shape for their ages, so I don't worry about it.

"Ready?" I ask Bella, giving her a once-over to make sure her socks match and her hair is brushed.

"Yup." She steps out the door, and I am just behind her. I look down and realize I am still in my slippers. I grunt and go back inside to put on my shoes. I am halfway out to the car when I feel a tugging at my heart. I'd left the cookie jar on the kitchen counter. I run back inside to get it and then rush out to the car. I hand Bella the cookie jar to hold as I peel out of the driveway.

"Late again," Bella says, more to herself than to me.

"Yeah, I know," I say. "You actually sound disappointed."

She shrugs. "I hear people snicker whenever I walk in late because it happens so often."

"I'm sorry, honey. We will try to do better. Starting tomorrow, huh?"

"Hey, Damon," Bella says, shaking the cookie jar. "Can you make sure I'm on time for school tomorrow?"

"Hey, don't do that," I tell her. "Don't shake him. And he's a demon, not a genie."

"They are called djinn," she says. "And there's not a difference."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, slapping the steering wheel when I get caught by a red light.

"I was reading about it last night," she says. "In Islamic folklore, all supernatural beings, including demons, are considered djinn."

"Hmm, I guess I should have looked at what you were reading. I'm not sure you should be reading up on demons."

"Umm, we have one in our house, Mom. I think it's safe to read about them."

I sigh. "Touché. Just don't let Grandma Consuela find out."

"Yeah, I know."

Grandma Consuela is Bella's paternal grandmother, and she doesn't know anything about the mystical side of Mystic Cove, or that Bella is a witch. We have to keep such stuff a secret from outsiders in order to protect the supernatural creatures who call Mystic Cove home. Mark knew, but it was a long time before I could tell him the truth, and I had to get permission from the town council before I could.

"Hey, Damon," I say. "Are you a djinn?"

"Depends on who is asking," he says. "I am many things to many people."

"Makes sense," I say. I pull up in the drop-off line and put the car in park. I start to walk Bella into the school and then realize I left Damon in the car. "Come on," I mumble to myself. "Can I not walk a hundred feet away from you?"

"I don't make the rules," Damon says from inside the jar.

"Hmm. Maybe we can have Bella conjure up a rule book for us or something."

"Cookies aren't going to make up for Bella being late again, Ms. Jones," Cathy says, her hands on her ample hips.

"Yeah, I know," I say, turning the sign-in sheet to me and filling it out. "See you later, baby." I give Bella a kiss and wave her goodbye.

"Bye, Mom. Bye, Damon."

I feel my face flush hot.

"Who's Damon?" Cathy asks.

"The demon haunting my mom," Bella says casually as she walks past Cathy's desk to go to her classroom. Cathy looks at me, her eyebrow raised.

I laugh awkwardly. "Kids!"

Cathy rolls her eyes at me. "This counts as an absence, Ms. Jones. You have a copy of the school's truancy policy, I'm sure."

"Somewhere, I'm sure," I say. Though, I have no idea where such a thing would be.

"Excessive truancy can lead to a visit from Child Protective Services, you know."

My heart thuds hard in my chest and I feel sick.

"You think having my kid taken away from me is going to help the situation?" I ask her. I'm torn between wanting to cry and getting mad.

"Of course not," Cathy says. "But it might get you to take this problem a little more seriously."

"You really think I'm not taking my parenting seriously?" I'm leaning into feeling mad. "You try being a single parent and then tell me how high on the list of problems being on time to school ranks for you? Is it before comforting your kid for the death of her father or after it?"

Cathy grimaces, and I notice the few other people in the office are staring at us.

"Hey, Ms. Jones," the principal, Mr. Cooper, says to me, leaning out of his office door. "Something I can help you with?"

"Nope," I say, pasting on a sugary sweet smile. "Not a thing." I turn and practically run out of the front office. I jump into the car, buckling the cookie jar into the seat next to me. My tires squeal as I fly out of the drop-off lane. I pull over a block away and put the car in park. I let out a scream and beat my fists on the steering wheel. Poor thing is taking a beating today, but I have to take my frustrations out somehow, and it's not a workout day.

"That woman was a piece of work," Damon says. I yelp when I see that he has materialized next to me.

"You heard that, huh?"

"Of course, I did," he says. "I can hear everything. Good job putting that woman in her place. She deserved a lot more than you gave her."

"You think so?" I ask. "I just know I'm going to have to apologize the next time I see her."

"Why?" he asks.

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Says who?"

"Says…human decency."

Damon lets out a barking laugh. "You are making that up."

"I am not," I say. "It's just how it is."

"The woman was rude to you and you made her think about her actions. Why should you apologize?"

"I have to see her every time I have to go to the office," I say. I can't believe I'm having to explain right and wrong to a demon. "If I want to keep the peace and not have things be awkward for the next two years, I'll just have to do it."

"Or, and this is just a thought, you could let things be awkward."

"Let… Umm, why would I do that? Why would I make things harder for myself?"

"Wouldn't it make things easier to stop caring what some rude busybody thinks of your parenting?"

"It's a small town," I say. "I don't want a reputation as a…a…"

"As someone who stands up for herself?" he asks.

I let his words sink in. They are making sense. Why should I apologize? She's always judging my parenting when she has no idea how I struggle daily. Why should I apologize when she was rude to me? I should feel proud for sticking up for myself. I look at Damon to tell him he's right, but my eyes meet his glowing red ones. I see the self-satisfied smirk on his face, his curled goat horns.

"Nice try," I say.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I should be taking advice from a demon ," I say.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asks, crossing his arms.

"You were sent here to curse me, to torture me," I say. "You might not have succeeded in possessing me, but that doesn't mean you won't still try to ruin my life."

"Hey," he says, holding up his hands in surrender, "I think you have done a great job ruining your own life."

His words stab me in the chest and I burst into tears.

"Whoa, hey, sorry," he says. "It was just a joke."

"It wasn't funny!" I yell. "Don't you think I know that? That I ruined my life. Ruined my daughter's life? You really are a monster, you know that?"

"Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa," he says, patting my shoulder awkwardly. I shrug him away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I killed my husband! There! Are you happy now?"

His face shows genuine shock. "Whoa. What? No. You couldn't have."

"Well, I did," I say, wiping my face with my hands. "You didn't know?"

"No," he says. "I told you, I didn't know anything about you."

"Then why did you say that?"

"It's just obvious how unhappy you are," he says. "I just meant that you are miserable and I can't see any reason for it. You have a nice house, a cute kid. You live in Mystic Cove. I know your husband is dead, but it happens. It wasn't recent. That picture of the three of you together was really old. Bella was so small in it. I just figured that the only person making you unhappy is you."

"Well, you got that much right," I say, running my hands through my hair. "It's all my fault."

"What do you mean?" he asks. "What happened?"

I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it, tell the story again. I've told it so many times and it doesn't get any easier. It just compounds the guilt.

"Look, I don't like fighting with people, okay? You never know what might happen. What if, on her way home…" I get a sinking feeling in my chest. I can't say what I'm thinking out loud. But what if Cathy is distracted by our fight and gets into a car accident on her way home? What if she dies because of me? I can't have that on my conscience. I turn the car around and go back to the school.

"What are you doing?" Damon asks.

"I'm going to apologize to Cathy," I say.

"What? Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do," I tell him. I park the car in the parking lot and go into the office, taking the cookie jar with me.