Personal Demon

“Right behind you,” said a deep voice.

Behind us stood a young man, Jaz’s size, but with straight dark blond hair to his shoulders, a deep tan and an angular face that wasn’t ugly, but would never make it onto a billboard.

Jaz slapped him on the back. “Hey, bro. Guy just gave us another tough assignment. Gotta take Faith here out to di

He kept up a near steady patter all the way out of the club and down the street. He asked about my test, then told me about his and about So

Normally, such nonstop chatter would have put me off, but in Jaz it didn’t seem to be nerves or ego. It seemed like…energy. Endless energy, needing an outlet, and I could feel it, like low-level chaos rippling from him.

Over di

He told me a bit about himself and So

That they’d met in preschool was no coincidence. Their parents had worked in the St. Cloud Cabal satellite office in Indianapolis where they’d attended a school selected by the Cabal. An otherwise ordinary school. There was no risk in that-supernatural kids didn’t come into their powers until their teens. They’d be encouraged to befriend those classmates whose parents worked with theirs-kids they’d see at Christmas parties and picnics and on the company’s Little League team. Then, when they grew older, they’d already have someone who could share their supernatural coming-of-age experience, someone they could talk to and commiserate with. Watching Jaz and So

They were younger than me, both twenty-three. They’d left home as teens and drifted about ever since. That wasn’t surprising. I knew what it felt like, suddenly being different, with secrets to keep, powers to understand, searching for your moorings, for your identity, your place in this new world.

Jaz and So

As di

I stopped myself. Karl wasn’t my type either-too suave, too polished, too old.

But as for the puzzle that was Jaz, I solved it over dessert. When he twisted in his chair, the angle was just right to ignite a memory and I knew what he reminded me of: the angel Gabriel at my grandmother’s church.

I’m sure there’s something sacrilegious about having a crush on an angel, but I’d only been six or seven at the time. Gran was a proper society lady, one who had expected her son to grow up and marry a debutante. When he brought home an Indian girl from college, she hadn’t been disappointed or angry, but simply, I think, confused. Like most women of her class and generation, this just wasn’t a possibility she’d considered. But he was obviously in love, and the girl was as bright and beautiful as any debutante, so Gran gave her blessing.

She loved us as much as she did any of her grandchildren. Even after the divorce that didn’t change. If there was any problem with Gran, it was only her need to make us feel we belonged. Hence the angel Gabriel.

When we visited, I always went to church with her because I knew it pleased her and it pleased my mother. Above the pulpit was this enormous painting of flaxen-haired, pale-ski

To my grandmother, Gabriel served as proof for me that I was just as welcome in God’s house as anyone, so she never failed to rhapsodize over how beautiful he was, and how being different from the others made him all the more special. A heavy-handed lesson, but her heart was in the right place. I spent many hours in that church staring at Gabriel with his soulful eyes and dark ringlets.

So the mystery of Jaz’s attractiveness was solved. But it didn’t make my heart patter any less when he turned his soulful eyes my way. The face of an angel covering a mind more inclined to devilry. Under the circumstances, it might be just what I needed.

AS WE LEFT the restaurant, Jaz said, “So you’re an Exustio? Or is it Aspicio?”

“Expisco,” I said.

“Exustio is fire,” So

“Damn half-demon names. All sound like Latin to me.”

“Could that be because they are Latin?”

“Smart ass. Even Guy didn’t know what an Exp-Expisco was. Had to get Bianca to look it up, and she had a hell of a time.”

“It’s a very rare subtype,” I said.

“And a weird one.” He glanced at me. “No offense, I just mean most of you get some elemental power or enhanced senses. Being able to sense trouble just, well, doesn’t seem to fit.”

“Full-blooded demons usually have special powers plus chaos sensors. Most half-demons get the powers without the sensors. I just get the sensors.”

“Huh.” He walked for at least ten steps in silence, which told me something was wrong. Before I could ask, he said, “The reason I’m bringing it up is that, well, Guy’s…not convinced.”

“That I am what I say I am?”

He nodded. “I wanted to give you a heads-up. He’s going to test you, and soon.”

HOPE: EASY RIDER

We cut through the pedestrian-only Lincoln Road Mall. The sun had set and the temperature dropped to a balmy seventy, though the humidity lingered. On the promenade, no one was pulling on warmer clothing. The barely-there bottoms, plunging necklines and bad boob jobs were on full display as the nightlife began to prowl, skirting the palms and umbrella tables as they zeroed in on their favorite club, hoping being early might get them inside.

Jaz kept up a steady travelogue, pointing out the sights along the way, including the drop-dead gorgeous guys lounging on tables outside Score, every one of them worthy of a magazine cover, and not one of them likely to return any female attention. There weren’t as many gay bars in South Beach as there had been, Jaz said. They’d revitalized the area, made it the hottest place in Miami, then moved on. Many others had moved on too, and South Beach no longer had the cachet of a few years ago, but that didn’t bother Guy. Less hip young things meant more tourists and wa

His club was a block off the Mall. Not prime real estate, but from the lineup outside, no one seemed to care. Jaz said Guy liked us to work the line a bit as we came in-find likely marks and let them in, earning an easy excuse for an introduction later. But since this was my first night, Jaz figured they could skip that, and we headed up the other side of the road, cutting across as we neared the front of the line.