Page 17 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“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.”

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