Page 4 of Cooking Up a Demon
Except the proof they do stands in front of me with his hands on his hips and a glare that should stop my heart on the spot.
“What?” I snap, annoyed at not only his presence but the loss of my pot of happiness.
“Well, what task have you for me this time?” He looks around the shop with a sigh. “Please do not ask me to dust again. I was getting it out of my nose for days.”
I bite my cheek to keep from laughing at the idea of this giant demon sneezing out dust balls for days. It’s disgusting and ridiculous.
“I don’t want anything from you. I feel like making deals with a demon is very bad for my life expectancy. So, shoo.” I wave him off with my hands. “Be gone demon!”
“It doesn’t work like that, human.” He sighs and leans against the counter. “Look, you’ve summoned me, you’ve already paid the price for the summoning with your spell.”
“There was no spell!”
“You might as well get the work,” he goes on, completely ignoring me. “Your grandmother understood the price of the bargain. Did she not explain it to you?”
“Nonna didn’t explain shit to me,” I gripe. I wish she had left me something to explain the last few months of my life. I wish she had explained why I inherited everything instead of my father. And I am definitely curious about the demon that keeps appearing every time I try to cook out of the family recipe book.
“She set the terms, a favor for a day.” He says it as though it made perfect sense. It doesn’t. Nothing makes sense.
“A day?” I ask, certain I don’t want the answer.
“Favors come with a price, human. I did her a favor and May gave me a day of her life. Now it’s your turn. You’ve already paid the day by summoning me. Might as well get something from it.”
I stare dumbfounded at the demon. What the fuck did he mean I paid a day by summoning him.I hadn’t summoned him! I was making a simmer pot!
“You’re telling me I lost a day off my life because I wanted some fucking soup!” I flap my arms around like a headless chicken. “Just go away! I have too much work to do here to deal with this. Go. Let me move my millions of books so I can paint the walls and just be happy. And stop showing up every time I try to cook something! I don’t want you here!”
The demon gives me a look I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s almost like the affectionate look you give a dimwitted animal when they do something especially stupid.
“As you wish,” And with another plume of smoke, he’s gone.
Annoyed, I turn back to my simmer pot and turn off the hot plate. Maybe I could make it again and leave something out? That seems safe enough.
Decided, I grab my purse and keys and head back to the supermarket for more fruit.
When I return thirty minutes later with the apples, oranges, and limes needed to try my simmer pot again, the store is in total disarray. All of the books are piled in stacks in the center of the space, and all of the nearly floor to ceiling bookshelves have been moved away from the walls.
“Fucking demon!” I yell, frustrated. Yeah, okay, he saved me days of work by doing the task for me. But I do not want to keep making deals with demons. It does not bode well for the longevity of my lifespan.
There’s no response, so I assume the demon has returned to wherever demons go when they’re not pestering humans. Hell, probably. Though this demon seems pretty benign for the creatures of horror from the stories.
“Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it.” I chant as I lock the door behind me and head back to the counter to try my pot of happiness again.
Chapter Four
Four
“For the love of god, stop!” I yell to the rain through the front window of the bookstore. It’s rained every day for the last week. I’m starting to lose my mind.
April will be dryer, they said.
It’ll start to warm up, they said.
I’m not sure who the ‘they’ are that determines these things, but they are big, fat liars. Fifty degrees is not warm. It’s not. Especially not when it’s paired with days of endless rain.
The weather is cold, wet, and ruining my plans.
I grumble at the grey sky some more before moving away from the door and across the store to the raised seating area at the far end. I can’t help but feel a smidge of pride as I look around.
