Page 3 of Cookbooks and Demons

Lacking another option, she went into her dining room and stared at the long table she rarely used. It was her mother who had convinced her to buy it, insisting that with her new job, she’d be entertaining a lot more, and it would come in handy. That had been three years ago, and no one but Helena herself had sat at that table yet. Boxes of the Fiestaware she had bought for the occasion sat on its dark surface waiting to be opened. Pulling back the flaps on the first box to stare down at the serene white plate with the “coastal sea” pattern gleaming up at her in all its blue and indigo glory seemed discordant with what was happening. She had also bought glasses that were similar, clear glass tumblers with seashells etched into the sides and a whole other box of wine glasses along with two brand-new sets of eatingutensils.

She stood and stared at it all like they were alien objects dropped off by a passing space-shipping company. It had been so much fun to buy all this, but now—

Just then the doorbell rang. Helena jumped out of her skin again then turned her head toward her clock. It was an hour and a half before guests were supposed to arrive, so who could it be?

After a pregnant moment of panic, the doorbell rang again. Lacking other obvious options, Helena went to her door and looked through thepeephole.

“Come on, Hel. Open up. I got wine that needs chilling, stat,” her friend Cindy said.

“Uh, hang on one second,” Helena said, glancing back toward her kitchen. To her shock, the demon stood right next to her, his hand planted againstthe door.

She meeped again, only to belatedly cover her mouth.

“Hel? You okay?” Cindy called throughthe door.

“Yeah, one sec. I just stubbed my toe. Hang on,” Helena covered, speaking through herfingers.

The demon leaned in until he was too close to her face. “Don’t tell anyone about me,” he warned in a low voice. Again his strange smelling breath washed over her face. She had expected him to smell like disgusting things: rot and dead meat or at least halitosis. Instead, herby flavors accompanied the warmth of his breath, making her mouth water. It didn’t make his threat any less intimidating.

“I-I won’t,” she said, shakingher head.

He seemed to accept that, straightening up before turning back to thekitchen.

“Helena?” Cindy called again.

Hands shaking, Helena managed to get her deadbolt and chain undone to finally let her friend in. Cindy stood on the other side, eyebrows pinched inconcern.

Helena forced a smile as she leaned in to give her friend a much needed hug. “What? Did you come from the ER? You’re still in your scrubs.”

“Yeah, I figured I could change here; otherwise I would have been late,” Cindy answered, crossing the threshold with her duffle bag and a paper bag holding two bottles of wine, lying on their sides at the bottom. Her friend wrinkled her nose. “What is that terrible smell?”

“I…” Helena glanced at her kitchen door. “I think I’ve completely ruined dinner, and I have no idea what to do.”

“Well, let’s first open some windows and/or burn some incense because damn, girl,” Cindy said, dropping her duffle bag onto the couch before turning toward the kitchen. “And we still got time. How about we order some of that barbecue I smelled coming up the street?”

“Where are you going?!” Helena squawked when she realized where her friend was headed.

Cindy jerked, startled by her friend’s outburst. “To put the wine in the freezer to chill,” she said defensively, unsure of what she had done wrong.

“Uh, I’ll take care of it,” Helena tried to cover, surging forward to take the bags. “Just, uh, stay out of the kitchen. It’s a real messin there.”

“God, you should see my place right now,” Cindy countered, relinquishing the bag and turning her attention to the new plates. “Oh my gosh, these aregorgeous!”

Much to Helena’s dismay, Cindy followed her into the kitchen carrying one of the new plates to keep up the conversation. Already in the kitchen, Helena spun around to block her friend, but it was already too late. “Cindy, wait!”

“Oh!” Cindy said, her eyes landing on the obvious someone past her shoulder. “Hello.”

Chapter 3

A Demon Named Lares

Helena turned, confused by her friend’s calm reaction and even more confused by the young man standing behind her. He was fully dressed in black slacks and a blue shirt that buttoned on the side, like what a caterer would wear, all covered by a darker blue apron. His short black hair had been tied back with a blue patterned handkerchief. He turned from the counter when the two women had entered, small piles of chopped vegetables stacked nicely before him on Helena’s large cutting board. There was not a wing, horn, or tail in sight, and his skin had become a normal human shade.

“Hello,” he responded to Cindy’s greeting with the same rumbling voice the demon had.

There was no doubt in Helena’s mind that her demon had turned into …a caterer.

The demon caterer wiped his hands on a clean towel and then offered it to Cindy to shake. “Lares,”he said.

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