Page 3 of My Demon Manny

"Off to your interview?" Matilda, my neighbor and the woman who'd first told me I should try being a nanny, asked, peeking out of her apartment, and I gave her a cheery nod.

She was a single woman in her fifties, and the nicest human I'd ever met. She baked me cookies and sweet things on the weekends and was always willing to tell me about human things I found confusing. She thought I was a 'quirky little fellow,' but she said the words with fondness. Her brown eyes looked me up and down, and she gave me a thumbs up.

"I just know you'll get it, kiddo. Go wow them."

Grinning, I leaned forward and kissed her cheek before taking off down the stairs.

"Don't run—you'll break something!" she called, making me laugh. If I fell, I'd be more likely to break the stairs than any part of myself, but I refrained from telling her that.

In my car, I plugged the address into the GPS and started driving. I lived in a big-ish city, which meant traveling via magic wasn't always safe, so I'd gotten myself a car. I'd realized driving could be quite fun, as long as you weren't driving during the rush hours.

Archer Shaw's house was a thirty-minute drive from my place, in the rich part of town, according to Matilda. Which made sense, since live-in nannies weren't cheap to hire.

Not that I cared about the money, but if I tried to do this job without asking for compensation, I was sure I'd be arrestedwithout a single question. Knowing the kind of humans that existed, the kind of humans I used to torture back when Underworld existed, I didn't blame them either.

When I arrived at the house—I had to enter a code to be allowed in a gated enclosure where a bunch of houses sat on their own divided part of the land—I realized I'd spent the whole drive lost in thought without preparing what I was going to say.

Cursing myself under my breath, I slid out of my car, grabbing the folder of my certificates (some fake, some real) and resumé before making my way up the stairs. I took a deep breath and rang the bell, determined to do my best.

The door was opened by a handsome man in his late twenties or early thirties, with pitch-black hair, brown eyes that took me in without revealing what he thought of me, and a thick but trimmed beard that covered his cheeks and jaw. A tiny hand was petting the beard, and I followed it to the little bundle in his arms, unable to hold back my smile. The baby was all chubby cheeks and roundness, with curly black hair falling over their forehead and big blue eyes that peered around curiously.

I remembered I was here as a professional, and cleared my throat, meeting the father's eyes. Wow, he was tall too. He had at least half a foot on me in my human form, maybe more.

"Hello. I'm Calux. It's nice to meet you," I said, holding my hand out. Then I blinked, realized he couldn't shake it while he was holding the baby, and quickly retracted it with a sheepish smile.

"Hello, Calux. I'm Archer, and this is Gunner. Please come in."

"An archer and a warrior, hmm? Are you building your own army, perhaps?" I asked as I followed him into the house, the words spilling out without a thought. Fudge, I needed to get a grip on myself before I bungled this all up. (I'd learned it wasn't good to swear in front of babies, so I was trying to use different words.)

"More like a D&D campaign, but yeah," Archer said with a laugh, and I sighed, glad I hadn't offended him, though I wasn't quite sure what a D&D campaign was.

He waved toward an armchair and I sat down as he took a seat on the couch across from me.

As Archer fussed with the baby, I glanced around the room, taking in the high walls, the large TV, the comfy sitting areas that were signatures of a well-designed upper-class house, according to the TV shows.

Interspersed with all the fancy stuff, though, was the warm wooden crib, the myriad of toys spread around the room, the empty milk bottles on the coffee table, and all the little things that said Archer was too busy taking care of Gunner to take care of the house.

Or himself, I thought as I eyed the stain on his shirt and his short black hair that stood on end like he'd been running his fingers through them.

"So, Calux," he said, straightening up as Gunner grabbed onto a button on his shirt and started tugging. "You haven't done this before, have you? This would be your first job?"

I nodded, folding my hands in my lap. "I can imagine that you'll find it hard to hire me with my lack of experience, but I promise that if you do, I'll make sure I take the best care of Gunner."

Archer nodded, then quizzed me on a few baby things. How often would I feed Gunner? (Semi-solid food once a day to start with, and milk every 3-4 hours.) How often would I change his diaper? (Also 3-4 hours.) What would I do if he got sick? (Call Archer, and take the best care of Gunner in the meantime.)

By the time the interview ended, I was fairly confident I aced it, though I was sure Archer had other candidates he wanted to meet before making a decision.

"Thank you for coming. I'll contact the agency once I've made a decision," Archer said as he got to his feet, Gunner's hand still clamped around his shirt button.

I nodded as I followed suit, grinning when Gunner looked at me and cheered, moving his fist toward me...and popping the button on his dad's shirt.

The button went clattering on the coffee table, and I got a nice little peek of Archer's chest before I turned my gaze away, forcing my cheeks to not give me away. I was a professional, dammit.

"Gunner!" Archer groaned in a voice that implied this wasn't the first time it'd happened, and I held back a smile as he led me to the door.

"Bye, little one. I hope I see you again," I told Gunner before I walked down the stairs and got into my car, giving Archer and Gunner one last wave before driving off.

Archer

---