Page 14 of Goblins Don't Count
“I’d like to take you out to dinner,” he said with a flash of his fine teeth. Was I something he’d like to eat for dinner? Was he the kind of demon who ate more metaphysical things, like desire?
“You want to take me out to dinner? Where?”
“Do you like sushi?”
I blinked at him and pulled my taser. Was he saying that he knew who I really was, threatening to blackmail me if I didn’t pay him or something else?
He took a slight step away from me, hands raised. “Not sushi? Okay. How about Italian? Noodles, not the people from the country.” He chuckled, keeping his distance, but clearly amused by my reactions.
I stared hard at the demon guy. “You mean dating?”
He nodded, looking delighted. “I mean dating.”
“Seriously?”
He pointed at me. “I’d like you,” then pointed to himself, “To come with me, to dinner so that I can get to know you better.”
“Why?”
“I liked your touch. I felt your soul in that touch, and it was delicious. Wrong word. I don’t eat souls, I’m just interested in getting to know you. Have you ever dated a demon? You might like it. You can be whoever you want, whenever you want.”
I was so confused, I didn’t taser him when he came close enough to hand me his card.
“Think about it. Call me if you’re hungry, or bored, or tired of going home alone. Every. Single. Night.”
He winked at me, reminding me of Sashimi, and then sauntered off, a little lash of his tail at the end like a punctuation, or a flirt, or something else I had no idea, because he was a demon. I didn’t date anyone, but a demon had asked me to dinner? He must be crazy. And yet, it might be nice to go out somewhere, wearing a nice shirt that didn’t smell like drunk raccoon. I didn’t have an extra shirt in my tiny closet at work. I should go shopping. And maybe get something that looked nice with green skin.
I shuddered and got in my car, tossing the demon’s card in my bag before I took off.
ChapterFive
The raccoon wasn’t in my apartment when I got home, but the mess he’d left behind was very real. That was fun cleaning up. Finally, I pulled out the little package my dad had gotten for me, and unwrapped a little pamphlet in Goblin that made a thrill of absolute happiness rush through me. He knew exactly what I liked. The problem was that I couldn’t sit and read something fascinating, like a goblin pamphlet about overthrowing the country, when I had to do research on Judge Stevens. I didn’t have to. Lieutenant Joss had absolutely not given me the assignment, but if it was murder…
I found nothing. Not that night, not the next, and not the next. Before I knew it, it was Thursday, and I was getting off work early because I needed to go to my coven meeting. I definitely wasn’t turning into a goblin. My skin wasn’t green, and I couldn’t see in the dark. Although my sense of smell and hearing were still weirdly acute.
My mother had me drive my purple hornet Hatchett while she read a spellbook about manipulating emotions and moods.
She didn’t talk much on the forty-five minute drive out of the city and into the woodland suburb where the witch lot was. It was backed on several very large properties and was a good hundred acres of wild woods and swamp, some of which went up to the river.
“You know, Tim might be here tonight.”
“Tim?” I asked, pulling into the spot under the shade of the trees between a black-and-white striped truck and a brown sedan. The truck belonged to Clarinda, my closest witch friend, not that we were particularly close, but she also disliked coven meetings and lived in the city so she wouldn’t have to mingle very often. She also refused to date warlocks and hated animals. She was also usually grumpy, but her fashion sense was incredibly strong. Also weird. She owned the clothing commission shop, ‘Change Your Stripes,’ and had an extremely strong business sense. She also reminded me of my mother. No, we weren’t friends, but we did usually end up standing next to each other at these things, feeling uncomfortable together.
“Yes. He’s Portalia’s grandson.”
“The one who stuffs people’s dead familiars?”
“That’s right,” she said, stiffly. “He’s an accomplished taxidermist.”
“Perfect. I look forward to chatting with him.”
She sniffed and got out, walking towards the woods, towards the grove where we’d all chant and dance around like woodland creatures. No, actually, we’d all try to avoid being pulled into someone’s project, such as Portalia, who I would never willingly be related to. Sorry, Tim. I’d rather date a demon. Handy that I had his card.
When we got to the clearing, I went straight for the hand-hewn boards strung between old mossy oak trunks to see if Clarinda had brought any of her sausage rolls. The things were addictive. Aha! There would be one pleasant thing about this coven meeting. The sausage rolls smelled heavenly, with the golden glaze over the top that beckoned, promising happiness for a good sixty seconds. I grabbed for one, but my mother caught my arm and swung me around to face a terrified Tim, who was also angling towards the sausage rolls.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and looked like he might work out, but his eyes had a touch of panic that I deeply understood.
“Tim, this is my daughter, Rynne. You will ask her to dance at least twice tonight,” my mother insisted.
