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A Demon N amed Lares

H elena turned, confused by her friend’s calm reaction and even more confused by the young man standing behind her. He was fully dressed in black slacks and a blue shirt that buttoned on the side, like what a caterer would wear, all covered by a darker blue apron. His short black hair had been tied back with a blue patterned handkerchief. He turned from the counter when the two women had entered, small piles of chopped vegetables stacked nicely before him on Helena’s large cutting board. There was not a wing, horn, or tail in sight, and his skin had become a normal hum an shade.

“Hello,” he responded to Cindy’s greeting with the same rumbling voice the d emon had.

There was no doubt in Helena’s mind that her demon had turned into … a caterer.

The demon caterer wiped his hands on a clean towel and then offered it to Cindy to shake. “Lares,” he said.

“Lares?” Cindy asked, furrowing her brows.

“That’s my name,” he stated . “Lares.”

Demons had names? Of course, they did. Helena actually felt bad that she hadn’t thoug ht to ask.

“Oh, sorry,” Cindy laughed, recovering from her surprise far faster than Helena did. “Just wasn’t expecting a handsome man and you cook too. Double trouble.” She slid a hair back over her ear in a flirty gesture, much to Helena’ s horror.

“Uh. Let’s get out of his way. I have… I mean, he has a lot to do before everyone else gets here and…”

Lares held out his han d. “Wine.”

Cindy held out the forgotten bag in her hand.“Oh, yeah. These need to be chille d before—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Lares said shortly. “Now if you could give me some space , ma’am.”

Cindy looked over at Helena mouthing the word “ma’am” at her before rolling her eyes.

“Sorry, Lares. And thank you.” Helena grabbed her friend’s arm and escorted her back out the kitchen door. Once the door had swung shut, Cindy turne d on her.

“Okay, who is that and what is he doing here, and can I have his phon e number?”

“Um, he’s a caterer. I called him to get some help after everything sort of … exploded,” Helen a covered.

“Yeah, but where did he c ome from?”

“I… he… used to work for my grandmother. Why? What does it matter where he came from?” Hele na asked.

Cindy tried to go back to peek, but Helena prevented her. “I mean, a real honest to god caterer in a private residence. You are going all out tonight. I knew you came from money, but I didn’t know th e extent.”

“I’m not… it’s not like… Look, he’s doing this as a favor to my grandmother. Please don’t make a big deal out of it because I think he’s really annoyed by the whole thing a s it is.”

Cindy glanced back at the door with a thinking expression. “Yeah, I sort of got that vibe. Like he’s a professional, you can tell that right off, but sort of that Hell’s Kitchen kind of professional? You know, where he’s going to go off at any minute if things aren’t diced c orrectly.”

The comparison caused a needle-like constriction in Helena’s throat, but she swallowed it down. “You want to go ahead and get changed? You can use my bedroom,” she offered, practically dragging her friend there by her duffle bag. The bathroom was across the hall to her bedroom. Once she got Cindy installed in there, she headed back to her din ing room.

With the intensity of soon to be roadkill trying to outrun the car, she unpacked the new fiesta-ware from their boxes. Unfortunately, the new plates had factory dust all over them, which meant she needed to go back into the kitchen in order to get a dishtowel to wipe them to company-ready standards.And a garbage bag for the packaging.

Her eyes slid sideways to the forbidden doo r warily.

“Stop it,” she muttered to herself. This was her home and there wasn’t a demon in her kitchen. It was a caterer … that had just appeared in the middle of a demonic summoning circle. What happened to the summoning circle? she thought.

Cindy hadn’t noticed it and Helena didn’t actually recall seeing it aga in either.

Deciding not to think about it further, she screwed up her courage and marched, practically sprinting, into he r kitchen.

“Ta ste this.”

She had barely passed through the door before there was a spoon thrust into her mouth. A burst of creamy chocolate fluffy wonder filled her mouth. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as her fingers rushed up to her lips to keep the dessert from escaping.

“What do you think?” the demon caterer asked. He still remained in a more human-like form complete with clothes, but his eyes flashed with their own eerie inner light, closer now to starbursts than anything.

“It’s delicious,” she said with a full mouth, trying to swallow some o f it down.

“Yeah, yeah. I know that,” he dismissed, waving the spoon back and forth. “But is it too chocolatey, too creamy, not chocolatey enough? Good mo uth feel.”

“Um, what is it supposed to taste like?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I can’t taste it. You have to tell me.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh. Uh, well.” She rolled what remained in her mouth. “It’s very intense. Like intensely sweet. I don’t think I could do more than a spoonful.”

He grunted and nodded at the feedback. “Ice cream,” he muttered and turned away to his prep area. “Or maybe a semi-sweet cake with this layered in between. We have time. Yes, mousse cake . Maybe.”

Helena stood there a bit confused, then amazed. The chaos that had been her kitchen had been tamed. While most of her disaster had been piled into the sink, the stove had a couple of pots simmering nicely, and it was clear there was something baking in the oven if the shadow backlit by the inner light was any in dication.

“Do you… do you need help with anything?” she asked, lacking anything els e to say.

“For you to get your ass out of my kitchen,” he said matter-of-factly as he lifted up the pan that had her ruined cake in it, critically inspe cting it.

“Oh, you can’t use that,” she warned, jetting forward to take the pan from him. “I got fire extinguisher all over it.”

He blocked her with his arm, seizing her wrist in a vise-like grip. “Never touch anything in my kitchen. Understand?” he said very carefully. A shiver fluttered through her as her heart pounded. The illusion over the demon slipped, and Helena’s throat constricted at the sight of the too-thin, gray-skinned creature before her. The stars in his eyes flared inhumanely bright into suns as he pinned her with his warning gaze, which didn’t change, even as he shifted back to looki ng human.

“I… I’m trying to help,” she sai d softly.

“So am I,” he said. “Now get what you need and get out.”

Like a startled deer, she scrambled as fast as she could under her sink, the door of which was right next to his leg and grabbed a garbage bag. Her desperate need for speed made the job take twice as long, the bag getting caught in the door as it closed.Then she had to double back for a clean dishcloth.

Helena glanced up fearfully at the demon, praying that he wouldn’t do anything to her, but he just looked down his nose at her impassively waiting.

She fled the kitchen, back into her dining room. Gripping the back of a chair with both hands, she let the garbage bag drop to the floor while she panted like she had run a marathon.

“Oh, God, what have I done? How did I do it? What am I goin g to do?”

On top of everything, her tongue hurt from where she bit it. Rubbing the wound with a finger, she checked f or blood.

Dammit, this is going to bug me all night, she thought.

“What’s wrong with you?” the gruff voice from the door asked. She spun to face the demon poking his head through the kitc hen door.

“I… I bit my tongue …before.”

He grunted. “C ome here.”

Each step weighed a ton, but she went back to the door.

Then he stroked along her cheek. She practically jumped out of her skin at his touch. “There. Now you can taste the food,” he said. “Don’t thank me. I’ll add it to y our tab.”

“Great.”

It wasn’t.