Demons are Forever by Julie Kenner

Author:Julie Kenner [Kenner, Julie]
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-06-01T17:22:07.974000+00:00

Ten

An hour later, I realized that the "stick with it like glue" plan would have to be amended. We'd arrived at Cutter's studio only to find that both of his practice rooms were full, which left us without a place to work out.

No problem, right? We could just do weapons training today.

But since we'd already stopped by KidSpace to pick up Timmy, I wasn't too keen on practicing knife throwing in the backyard. I also wasn't keen on leaving him alone in the house while we practiced, especially since Eddie wasn't home to keep an eye on him. A few minutes, sure. But for the hour or so of practice time that I wanted to get in? Just not practical.

In retrospect, I probably should have left him at day care for another hour, but it was inconveniently located on the far side of town, and I just didn't have enough time today to make two trips out to pick up kids.

Which meant that our day's training ended up being theoretical only. I took Allie up into the attic and ran her through the parts and operation of the crossbow.

"But when do I get to shoot it?" she whined.

I felt her pain. Now that I'd made the decision to train her, I wanted to get on with it, already.

"Soon," I promised. "But only in training. A knife, you can hide in a pocket or a purse. A crossbow? Not so much."

"You'll still teach me how to shoot it, though, right? I mean, it's totally cool and I want—"

I cut her off with a laugh. "I know you want, Allie. We just have to find some place to practice."

"Yeah, right. Like that's going to be easy."

She had a point, but I did have one idea. "Hang on," I said, then pointed to the array of weapons I'd spread out. "And don't hurt yourself."

I left her in the attic, then went downstairs to call David, checking on Tim as I passed through the living room. I'd left him with a pile of LEGOs, then taken the baby monitor with me. As far as I could tell, he was busy studying for a career in architecture, and his skyscraper towered almost as tall as my boy.

"Look, Mommy! I build a tower."

"Good job, kiddo," I said, as I grabbed the phone and dialed David's cell number.

"Watch, Mommy, watch." He grabbed a handful of blocks, then jumped up onto the couch. Carefully, he leaned forward and gently put one block on top, then another. The tower wobbled, but didn't fall, and Timmy bounced on the couch, squealing and laughing with pride.

"Awesome, kiddo," I said, as David's phone rang on the other end of the line.

"No, Mommy. Watch this." And he hauled his little leg back and kicked as hard as he could, sending blocks clattering to the ground and then bouncing across the hardwood floor. He squealed and screeched and I amended my earlier assessment. Not an architect. A demolition expert.

"Kate!" David's voice rang in my ear.

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