Demon Night

just said it before.” His deep chuckle filled the truck cab, but it faded when she locked her eyes with his and added, “I did sleep well—longer than I thought I would, considering. But I’d rather you let me worry, next time. I know you have a job to do, keeping me from getting killed—I’m grateful for that. And I’ll listen to you, because you know more about this than I do. But I’m not so emotionally fragile that I need to be protected from the truth, especially when it’s about Jane. And it takes me a while to work through things, so the sooner I find out about them, the more thinking time I have.”
    Ethan looked at his hand resting along the top of the steering wheel. His jaw worked for a second before he turned back to her. “All right, Miss Charlie. If it’s something that pertains to you, I’ll lay it out straight.”
    “Thanks.”
    So that was settled, but Jane’s driveway was still empty. Restlessness began twitching at her fingers, her legs. A rustle had her glancing across the seat—Ethan was unrolling the blueprints Jake had left on the table.
    Ethan dipped the paper and looked at her over the top. “You all right if I study these for a bit?”
    “Yeah.” The truck had a tape cassette player. Her iPod was at the house. Jane’s driveway was still empty. “Do you have anything else in there that keeps you busy?”
    “Books—mostly westerns and adventure novels, but a few others, as well. I might have something you’ll enjoy.”
    “I can’t sit quiet enough to read right now. What else?”
    “Manuals for just about every security system and lock made in the last century, a harmonica—”
    “Really?” She tried to imagine that, but only got as far as thinking about his lips and tongue sliding over the mouthpiece.
    He nodded, the corners of his eyes wrinkling into a smile. “All of your things, too. And some playing cards…” He bent the paper a little farther. “You play poker?”
    She shook her head.
    “That’s a shame, Charlie. A damn crying shame.” The blueprints vanished. “But it ain’t nothing we can’t fix.”

    By half past three in the afternoon, Charlie was starving, her ass was numb, she desperately had to use the bathroom, and Ethan had won most of her miniature unicorn collection. She’d forgotten they’d been in the back of her closet, but Ethan seemed thrilled by every porcelain figurine that accumulated on his side of the cab, examining each before adding it to his pile and claiming he hadn’t seen such a fine herd of horseflesh in over a century.
    And despite her worry for Jane, she couldn’t remember when she’d had a better time since she’d been a kid and she and Jane had been saving all of their extra money to purchase them. Ethan was patient and teasing as he talked her through the rules of the games, just as quick with a joke as he’d been across the wall, and as slow as he’d always been when the conversation veered to other topics.
    It was a combination that was potently sexy, and several times Charlie had to stop herself from simply staring—or leaping across the bench seat and having her way with him on their makeshift card table. Luckily, she could easily distract herself by asking him about being a Guardian—and, as soon as he mentioned Special Investigations, having him explain its role, as well. His job at Ramsdell had been a cover, she learned; Ethan spent most of his time traveling to different cities, tracking down demons, and slaying them. His brief accounts of several fights had her alternately laughing and horrified. And after the first few stories, she realized that he probably glossed over the worst of it.
    She had one unicorn left on her lap when Ethan folded the cards together and vanished the deck. His unicorns went, too, and he looked over at the house, shaking his head. “This would have been too easy, Charlie. I’d wager anything that Sammael won’t return before dark.”
    The anxiety that had been lurking in the back of her mind sprang forward again. She clenched her teeth and breathed deep, trying to control the frustration and fear racing through her. How could Dylan block every single method of communication? Maybe she couldn’t call Jane once the spell went up, but what about—“Can we leave her a note inside so that she’ll try to sneak out and call me?”
    Ethan shook his head. “She wouldn’t be able to sneak if a demon’s in the house, Charlie. And as soon as the sun sets, I’ll have you