Page 32 of Hell and Hexes
“If you mean a frivolous, silly, slacker Switzerland, then yes.” Lucien shook his head. “Eshu was different even before the split. He’s really old. I think he might even be older than my grandfather.”
“He doesn’t seem that old,” I mused.
“That’s because he never really grew up,” Lucien said. “We can’t fire him. We can’t punish him. All we can do is yell at him, which doesn’t seem to make one bit of difference. And we need him. He’s the messenger.”
The messenger. The communicator. The one who walked freely between heaven and hell and the mortal realm. Who was this demon-not-a-demon? I’d caught a glimpse of someone brilliant and powerful and wise for a moment in my kitchen last night before he’d returned to his playful, chaotic self. Which was the real Eshu?
Perhaps both were the real Eshu.
All I knew was that I’d been sad to return home from my office to find him gone. He’d found my stash of mini peanut butter cups and ate them all, leaving the wrappers on the counter with a note thanking me. I wasn’t sure if the thanks was for the candy, or the sex, or maybe both, but the house felt empty and quiet without him there. It felt less alive.Ifelt less alive.
“We’re here!” Bronwyn shouted from the living room.
Next thing I knew, the kitchen was jam packed with people. Bronwyn and Hadur had brought a couple of pies for dessert. Aaron was carrying what looked like a case of wine. Babylon had a salad in her hands, and Glenda had a bag with French bread sticking out of the top. Ophelia and Nash brought up the rear, squeezing into the tiny space and offering to help.
“Here. I’ve got this.” Nash took the peeler from my hands with a smile. “I’ve been prepping potatoes all week at the diner, so I’m a bit of an expert. You and your sisters go relax. Get started on Aaron’s wine.”
Aaron held up a bottle in one hand, flipping a corkscrew in the other as if he were a ninja. “Nash is right. Let the guys cook for once. You gals into the living room.”
“I’m not leaving my meatloaf in non-Perkins hands,” Cassie announced. “Let me get it in the oven, then you men can take over.”
Bronwyn, Adrienne, Babylon, and Ophelia headed out while Glenda and I started pulling wine glasses from the cabinet.
“Your aura looks amazing,” Glenda whispered to me. “What did you do?”
I shot her a puzzled look. “Drank your smoothies? Moved off Cassie’s couch and back into my own house? Went back to work? Ate pizza and had game night?”
“As much as I’d like to claim credit, that aura isn’t from my smoothies. And I doubt it’s pizza.” She hesitated, a fistful of glasses in each hand. “It’s…red. Red and black, but the black isn’t a bad sort of black. It’s shiny, glossy, reflective. I’ve never seen you this powerful.”
“Why thank you.” I simpered and curtsied, but Glenda’s compliments gave me a surge of hope that things might actually go well tomorrow at the meeting. The luck charms were charged, and if my aura really was so outstanding, then maybe I could start off the week by getting the werewolves to come to a peaceful, mutually beneficial agreement.
“Powerful, but…unstable.”
Crap. I didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
“Be careful, Sylvie. I don’t know what’s going on, and I’m no oracle, but I think whatever you do might end up having unexpected results.”
Yeah. I really didn’t like the sound of that. Turning around to grab two opened wine bottles from Aaron, I was shocked to see Eshu walk into the kitchen.
“Something smells amazing!” His voice was cheerful, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Crazy demon. There wasn’t anything to smell yet. Cassie hadn’t even put the meatloaf into the oven.
“And wine! Is this for me?” He took a bottle from Aaron, then reached out to boop me on the nose. “You, I will share with. I share my offerings with no one but you, couch-witch.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lucien snapped. “It’s Sunday. It’s supposed to be my day off. This better be urgent if someone is sending me a message during family dinner night.”
“I’ve got no message for you, son of Satan. I’m here for dinner and this freely given offering of wine. Is that meatloaf? I love meatloaf!” Eshu walked over to where Cassie was forming the loaf. She glared, putting herself between our dinner and the demon.
“Lucien? Are you inviting your co-workers to Sunday family dinner? Because I have a problem with that.”
Lucien’s eyes widened and he raised his hands. “No! I would never do that, Cassie. Eshu…just shows up sometimes.” He turned to the other demon. “Get out of here. Go to hell, or to heaven, or New York or something, but get out of our house.”
Eshu tried to peer around Cassie’s shoulder at the meatloaf. “I go wherever I will. There is no place forbidden to me, no rule I must follow, no law that compels me to abide.”
“Oh, you are going to follow my rules, or else,” Cassie snapped. “Lucien? Get him out of here or I will.”
Fire sparked on Cassie’s fingers. Lucien’s eyes turned coal black. Eshu ignored all the warning signs and kept trying to look at the meatloaf over Cassie’s shoulder. I threw up my hands and dove between them all, shielding the silly not-demon from their wrath.
“Whoa, whoa. Family dinner night. It’s the one time we get together to relax and not incinerate uninvited guests.” I pointed to Cassie as she was clearly the angrier of the two. “Put the meatloaf in the oven. I’ll…I’ll talk to Eshu and straighten this out.”
