Kathy Love - Truth or Demon

Madison stopped outside her apartment. It had a cream painted door with ornate molding to make it look like the fancy front entrance of a colonial mansion rather than just a door in a six-story apartment building. She slipped off her key, which she kept on a black cord around her neck. When they stepped inside, the place was dark and silent.

“She’s not home yet,” Madison said, flipping on a light. They all herded into the little eat-in kitchen and slid onto the café-style stools around a small round table.

Daisy looked at each of her friends, for the first time really letting what had happened sink in.

“We have a freakin’ demon in our control,” she cried, setting all her giddiness free. She grinned. Craziness.

Madison smiled, but not with the same glee. Madison was too cool for that kind of emotional abandon. Well, except for when Connor Martin asked her to go to the movies, but he was a senior and by far the best looking guy at Cambridge High. Definitely worth a little giddiness.

Although, personally, Daisy thought this was even more amazing than Connor Martin.

“A demon,” Daisy repeated.

“I don’t know,” Emma said. She winced, worry clouding her bright blue eyes. “Demons are bad, aren’t they? How do we know we can really control him?”

“The book says so,” Daisy reminded them.

“But the book is fiction,” Emma said.

“Obviously not,” Madison said. “The spell worked.”

Both Daisy and Emma nodded.

“But we still do need to figure out what to do with him,” Madison said. “My mom does work a lot, but I can’t get away with him staying here.”

“No,” Daisy agreed.

Madison’s mother was often at the hospital, taking extra shifts because she was the sole support of Madison. But the woman was too savvy for them to sneak a rather … noticeable man into her apartment.

Heck, Madison hadn’t even gotten away with the Connor Martin thing. Her mother figured that one out fast and vetoed the date. Because he was a senior and the cutest boy at Cambridge High.

“Well, Poppy won’t let him stay with us,” Daisy said. “As it is, we’re lucky he isn’t in a coma or on his way to prison as we speak.”

Poppy was a great sister. And she’d been wonderful after the deaths of their parents, taking on the role of both mom and dad, but sometimes Daisy wished she wasn’t quite so uptight. Couldn’t she just go with a strange man/demon staying with them? Geesh.

“Well, I would have clocked him too,” Madison said confidently.

Daisy seemed to recall that Madison had screamed right along with her and Emma. Sometimes she was all talk—most of the time, actually.

“What about you, Emma?” Madison asked.

Emma was shaking her head before Madison even finished the question, her blond curls bobbing against her cherub cheeks.

“You know my parents. My mother notices when someone nudges one of the knickknacks on the end tables out of place. And remember when she yelled at my brother for putting his boots away in the front closet with the left one on the right side and the right on the left?”

“She’d totally notice him,” Daisy agreed. He’d be pretty hard to miss, even if her mother was half-blind. And she wasn’t half-blind. If anything, that woman had the second sight.

“Plus your dork brother would so narc,” Madison said.

Emma’s little brother, Harrison, lived to get Emma in trouble, which wasn’t easy, because Emma was darn near perfect. She was actually a lot like her mother—of course, she’d throw a hissy fit if anyone said that. And Daisy would give her the benefit of the doubt—she probably wouldn’t rearrange the shoes to be matched by left and right.

Not that shoes were the point, Daisy reminded herself. The point was, Emma’s place was totally out.

“Well, we have to figure out something,” Daisy said. “Because if all the other stuff in that book is true, he isn’t going anywhere until he fulfills the wish.”

“You know, if I knew he’d really appear, I would never have gone along with your wish,” Madison stated to Daisy. “Not that I don’t like your sister or anything. But wishing for him to find your sister a boyfriend. Really? Can’t she find one for herself? Totally lame.”

“What would you have asked for?” Emma asked.

“To get my mother to let me date Connor Martin,” Madison said as if that were perfectly obvious.

Daisy supposed it was. But wasn’t she wishing for a boyfriend too? Apparently, it was not such a lame wish when applied to herself.

“I’d have wished to pass French Two,” Emma said.

That was obvious too—at least for Emma. But Madison rolled her eyes.

“You think Connor Martin is more important than good grades?”

Now it was Daisy’s turn to roll her eyes. Honestly, didn’t these two know each other?

“We still need to find a place for him to stay,” Daisy said, raising her voice to get them back on track.

The table fell silent.

Then Daisy straightened. “What about Mrs. Maloney’s apartment?”

Madison leaned forward, her eyes glittering with excitement. “That’s perfect.”

The two girls turned to Emma, who didn’t appear nearly as thrilled about the idea. She crossed her arms as if she were cold. Her shoulders hunched. “I don’t know.”

“But it’s perfect,” Daisy said.

Old Mrs. Maloney went to Tampa, Florida, for six weeks every year, and Emma took care of her fat, cranky, one-eyed cat, ridiculously named Sweetness. Which meant she had a key to Mrs. Maloney’s place. And Mrs. Maloney had just left last week. That gave them plenty of time.

“I don’t have the key with me right now,” Emma said, giving them a “see-that-won’t-work” look.

“It’s on the key hook right by the front door in your apartment,” Daisy said.

Emma’s mom was even tidy with keys.

“They’re all asleep.”

“Exactly,” Madison said. “I’ll sneak in with you. If someone wakes up, just tell them you came back for …”

“Your teddy bear,” Daisy said. Emma still slept with a worn bear she’d had since birth.

Emma pulled a face at the mention of it, then reluctantly said, “My mom would never believe that. She knows I never forget Mr. Jellybelly.”

“We’ll think of something.” Madison stood and tugged on the sleeve of Emma’s fleece pajama top. Halfheartedly, Emma allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

“Be quick,” Daisy said, once they were in the hall. “You know Poppy’s going to be full of questions.”

“So have you been living in the U.S. for long?” Poppy asked the man who sat beside her.

“I—I—no.” The Swedish stranger shook his head, clearly not sure of his answer.

Poppy glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. Twenty minutes. Where were the girls? She’d attempted conversation with the man, but all his answers were vague, and she could see flashes of confusion in his amber eyes.

His muddled answers and looks could be due to the hit to his head, but she liked to think it was because he was Swedish and everything was just new to him here in Boston. That way she didn’t feel quite so bad about whacking him so hard.

And to be fair, the girls had been screaming, and Poppy was terrified out of her mind.

“Why were the girls screaming?” she asked suddenly.

“What?” More bewilderment clouded his eyes.

“The girls? They were screaming like crazy. Why would they do that, if they knew you?”

He shook his head, but before he could give Poppy an answer that likely wouldn’t make any sense anyway, the apartment door opened.

Poppy rose to greet the girls, anxious to have this all-around unnerving guy out of her house.