Demon Song

23

The doorbell rang. Or at least I thought it did. It was hard to hear over the bedlam in the living room. You couldn’t ask for a more picture-perfect morning for the party. The rift had messed with the weather—maybe the only positive result of the whole disaster. The jet stream had shifted and there was a white Christmas in California. It would likely be gone by midday, but for now it wasn’t an irony to play Bing Crosby on the stereo.

I made my way through the crowd only to get stopped by Mick and Molly Murphy before I’d made it two feet. They were smiling at each other in an excited way and turned that same energy to me. “Well, we talked it over. We’re going to take it.”

That brought a smile to my face. “Really? You’re sure? I don’t want to pressure you or anything. But Gran’s got her place and I have mine, so I thought I’d at least offer.”

Molly got a little teary and waved a hand in front of her face before answering: “It’s perfect. Really. I already love this house. Just hearing the stories from your grandmother was enough to sell me, and the girls have already claimed rooms upstairs. There’s a yard and it’s in a good school district.”

“And it’s near the ocean,” Mick added. “That never used to be an issue, but now … well—” He looked at Beverly, who was poking around under the tree with her sister, looking for what I might have bought them. And how could I not buy them something? “I presume she’ll have to have some training on Serenity. We’ve already been invited to attend some seminars to teach us what she’ll need to survive.”

I nodded and put a hand on his arm as the bell sounded again. “Okay, we’ll work out the details soon. Don’t worry about the price. We’ll come up with something fair.”

As I left them to dissolve into the crowd, I felt another weight lift from my chest. Gran had really taken a liking to the Murphys, and she and I both felt that her house deserved to be enjoyed by a family again.

I only wish Vicki could have been here to see the snow. She’d always wondered what it would look like to see palm fronds covered in white. When I realized she was really, truly gone, I’d spent a day in bed, crying. Yes, I was happy she finally found her way to her just rewards. But I was going to miss her so very much.

Gran and I hadn’t really talked yet about Pili’s sacrifice, but I knew she needed to. I just wasn’t sure I was the right person to help her through it. I got the impression from Dawna that Ahn and Pili had gotten together to tag-team Gran once Pili knew what needed to be done. Dawna suggested I not bring up Pili’s death for a few weeks to see if the lessons they’d been trying to teach Gran had taken. She wasn’t exactly sure what those lessons were, but she’d gotten the impression they were metaphysical rather than simple counseling. But it was hard to look at my grandmother and know she was in pain and be unable to help her.

My little piece of melancholy was dispelled when I opened the front door and discovered Bruno standing there with a smile and a gift. The scars on his face were nearly healed, which was amazing considering how bad he’d looked when the rift was sealed. I threw myself at him and planted a big kiss on his lips. “You came! I thought you were flying back to New York this morning.”

He motioned back with his thumb toward a waiting Yellow Cab. “On my way to the airport. But I had to drop your gift by. You’re sure you’re okay with me going back?”

“What would a DeLuca Christmas be without fifty people in a house meant for ten? Of course you need to go. Please give Matty my best. How’s his arm doing?”

“The doctor says the rotator cuff is torn. He’ll have to have surgery, but they’re confident of a successful repair. But you can ask him yourself pretty soon.”

I gave Bruno a questioning look and he smiled. “He’s been asked to take over as head of the seminary here as Bishop Matteo DeLuca. Mama is beside herself.”

“Whoa. That’s a big deal. I’d heard that Archbishop Fuentes was going to get bumped to cardinal, but a field promotion to bishop is sort of out of the ordinary, isn’t it?”

Bruno nodded. “Very. But the Vatican felt if there was going to be another demonic event it would probably be here—sort of like aftershocks to a big quake. And they still haven’t found all the inmates who might have been infested. Besides, he’ll need a desk job until the arm’s better anyway.”

Too true. I looked at Bruno’s gift again. “I don’t have yours. I already shipped it to New York so you could open it at your mom’s.” Then I realized I was wrong. “Wait. I do have something.” I reached into my pocket, where I’d thrust the item when Alex had given it to me. “It’s not wrapped, but I want you to have it because you said you wanted to think.”

I put the soft leather bag into his gloved hand, coiling the thin silver chain atop it. “What’s this?” he asked, looking at me curiously.

“Siren charm. Then you’ll know for sure that whatever you decide is just you.” I touched his other hand. “And just me. The charm is specific to me. I asked the forensic witch where Alex works to make it up and the queen’s mage approved it.”

Bruno looked uncomfortable, but I didn’t give him the chance to refuse. I put the chain around his neck and leaned in to give him a slow, soft kiss that gave me more shivers than the icy north wind. “I don’t want you to have to question yourself. It’ll take a few days to kick in and then we’ll talk.” I took the wrapped present from his hands and backed up a bit with a warm smile.

He picked up the small bag, which was trimmed with silver wire, and stared at it with more than a little worry in his face. Then I heard a familiar voice from behind him: “Hey, I recognize that charm. Got one just like it. Pity it doesn’t work against kick-ass leggy blondes.”

Creede was walking up the sidewalk, likewise carrying a gift.

“C’mon, you guys. You tell me to mail my gifts and then bring yours so I’m stuck looking like a cheapskate.”

“Merry Christmas, Ceil. Guess DeLuca and I had the same idea, ’cause I’m on my way to the airport, too.” He leaned in and pressed lips against mine warmly, causing Bruno to let out a small, possessive growl.

“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Don’t get too cozy with her.”

Creede turned to look at him with eyes full of sparkling challenge. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint. I’m in no hurry. Of course,” he amended with a sly smile and a wink, “that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to take advantage if you fall down on the job.” He checked his watch and let out a small swear. “And speaking of jobs, how about we ride together to the airport? I’ve got something I want to discuss with you and I’m going to miss my flight if I don’t get moving.”

Bruno also looked at his wrist. “Shit! Is that the time? Sorry, Celie. Really gotta go. Tell your gran Merry Christmas for me. Be safe.” He gave me a quick peck and so did Creede. As I watched them walk away together and start to move luggage from one cab to the other, I realized I didn’t want to lose either one of them. But there wasn’t any way to keep them both and have it be fair to any of us.

I opened the door slowly, letting the smells of roasting turkey and apple pie fill my nose. Before I went inside I heard another vehicle and turned to see a familiar car pulling up, one I’d been afraid wasn’t going to make it. Sheesh. My place was turning into Grand Central Station.

Just how I like it.

Dawna got out of the car and let out a squeal of pleasure before running up the snowy sidewalk to give me a big hug, being careful to avoid the packages in my hands. “Merry Christmas!” The passenger door opened and Emma climbed out carrying an armload of packages.

Dawna pranced into the living room to give Gran a big holiday hug. She’d been spending the holiday with me and Gran for years because most of her family is Buddhist … which is why Ahn wasn’t here. As Emma came up to me, I hugged her gently and quietly asked, “How are Kevin and Amy holding up?”

I could see the worry in her eyes as she answered, “Kevin’s back at work at the university, but he’s got a bunch of post-traumatic stress that we don’t know how to help him with. He gets weird panic attacks from seemingly no cause. Someone at work suggested an assistance dog—one of the breeds sensitive to the demonic, like a hellhound.” She sighed. “Amy is still pretty withdrawn. I think the taint is mostly gone, but I know what she’s going through. It’ll take time for her to feel normal again.” She smiled then with genuine pleasure. “Thank you for inviting them to come today. I know you still haven’t gotten over what they did to you, and I know they really appreciated the gesture. Father might stop by later.”

“Christmas is a time for forgiveness. At least that’s what they tell me.” I forced myself to smile. I might never completely get over the betrayal by Warren and Kevin, but I’d try. For Emma. And for the past we’d all shared.

“Wow. A lot of people showed up!” Her smile grew broader as Gran gave her a peck on the cheek.

Finally Emma reached the couch and sat down. “I wish I didn’t get tired so fast.” She sighed. “It’s the meds. They keep me calm, but they make me sleepy.”

Dawna patted her hand. “You’re getting around. That’s what counts. We’re in no hurry today, girlfriend. It’s a day to take it easy.” She looked at the tree and then dropped to her knees in front of it. I took in her red and white velour pantsuit and wondered if Dottie was having a bad influence on her. But I had to admit the pantsuit was stunning. It made Dawna look like a very tanned and fit Mrs. Claus.

“Wow. You must have had more presents delivered. I didn’t see these yesterday.” She picked the one out of my hand before I could stop her and opened the card. “Ooh! ‘Merry Christmas, Ceil. Love, John.’ ”

I raised my brows at her teasing. “You can see full well that all he wrote was ‘Ceil’ and ‘John.’ The other words are preprinted.”

She refused to be denied and gave me her pretty pout. “He picked out the card.”

I shook my head. “Doubtful. It’s wrapped too well. Does that look like a guy wrapped it? That’s a mall wrapping.”

She started to shake it and I winced, leaping forward to take it away from her and put it carefully under the tree. “He gives things that explode, Dawna. I don’t want Santa to find you up on the roof.”

The girl must have some sort of radar, because next she pulled Bruno’s. “They were both here and I missed them? That would have been something to watch.” She eyed the box critically. “Now, I know Bruno wrapped this himself. Why do men use eight times more tape than necessary?”

I took that box away as well and moved it far from her. He had also been known to give things that go boom.

Bless ’em both.

“Ooh!” Dawna said when she spotted the one I thought I’d hidden behind the bookcase. Damn, she’s got a good eye. It was a small bag filled with fluff. “ ‘MC, Gaetano.’ New player, ladies!” She looked at me and then skeptically at the bag. “Also kablooie?”

I shrugged, because I honestly didn’t know. “He’s a doctor—or at least a medic. I’m thinking not. But he’s also a soldier.”

She handed it to me and leaned forward to whisper, “Go on, then. Open it. First one is always the guest’s pick.” Well … I was sort of curious and I could always put it right back in the bag.

I was frankly a little nervous about opening Gaetano’s gift. Surely he wouldn’t make it too personal. Would he? We still hadn’t even gone out on a date. The last I’d seen him was when he was pulling chunks of melted artifacts from my legs and chest.

I dug to the bottom of the bag and extracted a small, unwrapped box. I let out a little sigh of relief and actually brightened. “Cool!” I held up the box of emergency first-aid charm disks. “Look—two for broken legs and three for cuts up to an inch deep.”

Dawna and Emma wisely didn’t say a word at my exuberance. Only Gran was willing to comment: “That was very … thoughtful. Try not to need them, dear.”

I put the box back in the bag and the bag back under the tree. As much as I wanted to open them and read the instructions, that would be rude. Gran patted my hand. “I need to get back to cooking. When you have a minute, maybe you could make up some ranch dressing for the salad?”

I nodded. “In a second, Gran. I promise.” I leaned back against the chair and let the white noise settle over me. The cop contingent had gathered into a group around Alex and were talking shop. The Murphys were chatting with Adriana, Okalani, and Laka—who had apparently just popped in, because they hadn’t been here moments ago. Dawna touched my hand and I looked over at her wearily.

“So … while everybody’s busy, tell us about the boys. Is Bruno moving back?”

I nodded and smiled. “It’ll be a few months, I think. He doesn’t have a job yet, but I get the impression Creede wants to talk to him. They decided to ride to the airport together. I don’t know what I think of that.” Granted, they had worked together really well at the rift, but I could see a lot of potential problems, given their personalities.

“Speaking of Creede, how did the big lunch date go last week?”

I rolled my eyes. “He showed up at ten o’clock.”

Emma let out a disgusted sound. “I hate it when guys do that. Your hair’s in curlers and you probably just stepped out of the shower, huh?”

“Ten p.m.,” I corrected.

Now their jaws dropped, which was exactly what mine had done. “Yeah. For a lunch date.” I’d been beyond livid. “It was the third time in a row, and frankly, I let him have it.”

“Damn straight, girl. Although, really … it was only the second. You canceled once.”

Okay, fair point. But I raised a finger. “I did text him to let him know the client’s game had gone into overtime. He didn’t even go that far.”

Both girls rolled their eyes and let out an exasperated breath on my behalf. “So what was the excuse?”

I shrugged. “Same as last time. He got busy. But I will admit he made up for it.” I paused and glanced up to make sure Gran was still in the kitchen. Then I lowered my voice and leaned in toward them. “Moonlight cruise on his sailboat to San Diego and a four-course dinner in a private room at the Silver House Restaurant.” I blew on my hand and then made polishing movements on the front of my sweater. They reacted like I thought they would.

“Damn. There’s like a yearlong waiting list for even a regular reservation there.” Dawna let out a slow breath. “It wins points, but does it win ten hours late of points?”

“No. But the back rub on the boat did.” Oh my, had it won points because my back wasn’t the only thing he’d rubbed. “But we’re taking it slow. I think both of us are a little wary of each other right just now.”

Dawna started to respond, but my head turned at the sound of a loud knock on the door. Had I missed another bell? I touched her hand. “Hold that thought.”

I waved at Adriana, who was motioning me over. I pointed at the door and held up a hand. I did need to talk to her about some stuff, but I was still playing hostess.

“Merry Christm—” I swung open the door and my voice died in my throat. I recovered after a few seconds, but it was awkward. “Rizzoli? Um … Merry Christmas.”

He wasn’t on my invite list, and frankly, he looked like he’d just woken up. His voice was flat and without inflection: “Merry Christmas, Graves. Grab your badge. We have to go.”

Badge? Go? Um … Maybe if I tried again, this time with a smile. I put on my best client smile and cocked my head a little. “Let’s try that again. Merry Christmas, Rizzoli. Do you want to come in for a leisurely cup of coffee and a chat? Lots of cops here to talk shop with.”

He let out a frustrated sound and slammed his fists down in the pockets of his trench coat. “No, what I want to do is to go back home and sit in the living room with my family, opening gifts. I was up until midnight assembling my son’s first two-wheeler and had sort of hoped to see whether he liked it. But instead, I’m here and my wife is pissed beyond belief. So, if you’ll just get your badge we can get this over with and both get back to our respective celebrations.” He finally looked me up and down, as though assessing me. “What you have on is fine for this.” He said it like it wouldn’t be fine for other things.

What the hell?

“In case nobody gave you the memo, Rizzoli, I don’t work for you.”

One hand came out of the pocket and he leaned heavily on the side of my house. He looked inside, noticed all the local cops—some in and some out of uniform—and lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper: “Let me explain something, Graves. The notoriety you got for saving the world was both a good thing and a bad one—for you. You’re seen as a threat to certain elements in the government. I’ve been keeping the heat off you and you haven’t even known about it. But I’m getting ridden like a pony at a kiddie party. Now, I can either stop doing it or keep doing it. Which would you prefer?”

Oh. I was liking the no media and no investigations. I’d been sort of wondering why things had been so quiet. “It’s that important? To call you out on a holiday?”

“If they’re not lying to me, you’ll want to save snapshots of the rift in your scrapbook as your last happy memory.” He paused. “Did I mention it’s at double your regular rate? It should only take a half hour or so.”

Well, the month wasn’t over and I did have bills to pay. The party probably wouldn’t miss me for a few minutes. I held open the door. “C’mon in for a second. My badge is upstairs.” He came in but stayed carefully on the tiled entry. I bolted up the stairs as Dawna called out behind me, “What’s going on, Celia?”

I grabbed the badge from the top of my jewelry box and picked up my duffel. No sense going anywhere unarmed. I headed down the stairs but made a sharp right turn before I reached the door. “We don’t have time for good-byes, Celia,” Rizzoli snapped as I moved away from him.

Dawna’s expression was somewhere between surprised and angry. “Where are you going?”

I shrugged. “The usual. Bad people want to hurt good people and Rizzoli wants me to throw myself into the line of fire.”

She got up and walked to the door, putting her face right into his. “It’s Christmas, Mr. Federal Agent. See all the people? We’re having good cheer and high spirits.”

“Yes, ma’am. I can see that. And if you’d like to see another Christmas, I have to borrow Graves.”

I was pretty sure he wasn’t kidding. Just to be safe, I picked up the bag with the first-aid charm disks, then grabbed Bruno’s and Creede’s presents.

I was stuffing the boxes into my duffel as I joined Rizzoli, leaving my now-silent guests staring after me. He motioned toward the gifts. “What are those?”

“With any luck, they’re things that’ll keep me alive long enough to eat dried-out turkey later.”

We could but hope.