Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(25)
She settled for option C—putting the pedal to the metal and running over the evil demon. With a wicked grin, she ground her foot on the gas. The car sputtered and shook as it accelerated. Stupid little four-banger. Then again, how would she know she would have to go zero to sixty in five seconds when she bought it. At least it got good gas mileage. If the thing in front of her was a demon, would it have blood and guts? Hopefully not. However, she’d rather take chances with one demon than five hundred pheromone-intoxicated men.
“What in Hades are you doing?” Rafe ground out. He gripped the oh-shit handle tight in his hand and braced himself in his seat.
Puhlease! This guy was sexy and could kiss with the best of them, but he needed to lighten up. All her jokes went straight over his head. “I’m taking matters into my own hands,” she said, shifting into fourth gear. She made a mental note: Next time buy an automatic.
“I forbid it.”
Forbid this, *.
“Look,” she said, pointing behind her. Two Santa Clauses—sounded like a grammar lesson gone bad—tore at each other’s suits, throwing lefts and rights. One hiked up his knee and kicked the other in his gigantic gut. The man gripped his stomach in pain and doubled over. Guess it wasn’t padding, after all. The other smiled triumphantly and raised his hands over his head in victory. The other Santa reached up and grabbed his belt, pulling his red velvet pants down. His victorious smile turned into a shocked Oh. Reaching down, he covered his Christmas package—thank goodness. Why this Santa chose to go commando would remain a mystery to her, and she was quite happy keeping it that way. With a quick turn, he ran back down the street, tripping on his pants, two giant cheeks jiggling like bowls full of jelly. Lucy shook her head, struggling to block the image that played like a low-rate B movie out of her mind.
Serah threw her hands over her eyes. “I’m mentally scarred.”
“Trust me, you aren’t the only one.” Lucy shivered in revulsion.
Rafe simply shrugged. “Demon it is.”
Chapter 7
“I figured you’d come around to my way of thinking.” Lucy slammed her foot on the gas and the car lunged forward. Rafe’s grip tightened on the handle and his face scrunched.
The thing stood foreboding with yellow glowing eyes, fangs glinting in the sunlight that peeked through puffy clouds. Menacing evil flashed across its face as clumps of matted hair tufted its cheeks. Cold and lifeless apathy shone in its expression. Soulless—if there truly was such a thing. Evil radiated from the being like a case of bad BO. From the glare in its eyes, this would not be easy.
All of a sudden another being fell from the sky. A cute little ball of fur that stood about three feet tall, it spread its elongated arms wide, sending a huge ball of energy at the other demon. The monkey-like being jumped high into the air and did a back flip, landing right on top of his shoulders.
Lucy spun the steering wheel and veered to the right, tires squealing in protest. Thank goodness the parking lot was empty. “What the hell was that?”
“An imp,” Rafe said, loosening his grip on the handle. “Just what we need.” He shook his head.
She arched an eyebrow. “An imp? It looked more like a monkey on speed.” She pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park. Looking into her rearview mirror, she blinked. The imp had the demon pinned and jumped up and down on him. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? ’Cause this is f*cked-up.”
Rafe shook his head. “I wish I could tell you something different.”
Maybe someone had laced her vanilla latte with acid. Why else would she be having such crazy hallucinations? Then again, experts did say no two people ever share the same hallucination. Damn the experts. Why did they always have to be—well—experts?
“Fucked-up is an understatement, girl.” Serah shuddered. “Let’s hurry before your group of fawning admirers finds you.”
Lucy slid her keys into her pocket and, with caution, swung the door open. The stampeding men had since stopped to help the imp take care of the evil demon.
“Wow,” was all she could mutter. A few straggling men jogged toward her. Would they ever give up? In normal circumstances, she’d be all for a little attention from the opposite sex. But this much attention wasn’t what she had in mind.
“Hey baby!” a bespectacled, pocket protector–sporting guy shouted. His pants came well above his waist, giving her a glimpse of white socks and just-as-white ankles. Hell no!
“Hot damn! You’re one sexy broad,” an overly muscled, steroid-popping body builder said. Maybe their brains shrunk when their muscles inflated. He flexed his muscles, his pecs bobbing against the tight wife-beater shirt. How long would it take for those nipples to shrink in the cold?
Someone grabbed her hand. Shocks of energy raced through her. Rafe. He looked at her, his gaze urgent. “Let’s move!”
Not one to object, she put her feet to icy asphalt and allowed Rafe to pull her across the street to her shop. Why on Earth did she choose this building? Oh, that’s right. It was all she could afford. Then again, she loved it. It was her baby, after all.
They dodged cars, ice slicks, and men, of course. There wasn’t any way to avoid them. Catcalls, horns, and men shouting the worst-ever pickup lines echoed in her ears.
“This sucks.” She shook her head in frustration, petulance lacing her voice. “Make it stop.”