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“Do you really think he might have a personality improvement after this?” Jerome asked me after I’d driven away from the Haynes residence.
“It was Beelzebub’s,” I said. If any demon was bound to make a person improve themselves and their attitude, it was Beelzebub. Beelzebub was one of the few demons that truly enjoyed being a demon. Most possessed beings simply because they were demons. Beelzebub and his offspring really loved tormenting and torturing the living on Earth. I was starting to believe hell prince sires were assigned based on a supernatural’s life. If they were mediocre and uninteresting, their souls were reborn of Belgaphor. If they were sadistic and horrible, they joined Beelzebub’s offspring.
“Huh, that was an interesting thought,” Jerome said to me, reminding me the kid could currently hear my innermost thoughts. “You might be on to something there. It would make sense. I wonder what sigil my father was reborn under?”
“Probably Leviathan’s,” I said.
“Why Leviathan? He’s the second most powerful hell prince,” Jerome said.
“Because Leviathan wants to be a hell prince about as much as you want to be a pony. I just feel like those that do lots of good on Earth get assigned to Leviathan.”
“Really? I would say Ashtoreth.” Jerome smiled and I was glad I couldn’t read his thoughts. Incubi and succubae were sired by Ashtoreth.
“Only teen boys would think coming back as a lust demon as a reward for being good while alive is a reward,” I told him and he giggled. I shrugged and nearly wrecked the SUV, as my wings moved when I shrugged. “Chevy’s still?”
“No, it’s pizza and movie night,” Jerome said, pointing to the clock. “I forgot until just now.”
“Why don’t we have Helia and the girls meet us at Chevy’s,” I suggested.
“The girls like pizza way more than Tex Mex,” he said.
“That’s because kids have weird taste buds.” With Mark, Helia’s soon-to-be ex-husband, out of the picture, she and I had grown close again and the girls adored Jerome. He created pink unicorns for them and accidentally brought across a hellhound for them that Aurora named Angel. Angel lived with Jerome and me, as did the pink unicorn and the black and silver horse that Jerome created the previous year as part of a class assignment that went awry. The unicorn was named Pinky Pie because the girls loved My Little Pony, and the black and silver horse was Luna Sparkle for the same reason. Helia and the girls currently lived with our parents. “Text Helia and tell her pizza and movie night is still on. I’ll order pizza as soon as I get home,” I told Jerome.
“Sure,” he replied and dug out his phone. On Thursday nights we always had a late dinner because Ariel had dance class on Thursday evenings. We’d pig out on pizza and all crash at my house. In the morning, we rushed around like crazy trying to get everyone ready for work and school. This year, Ariel was struggling with dance as over the summer she’d gotten wings, but she was determined to make it work. She was young enough she just might pull it off.
“You know, maybe since you don’t have school tomorrow, we should talk to Helia about letting the girls have a sick day and you can all go to my parents,” I suggested, thinking it would be a fun day and distract Jerome and the girls.
“Nope,” Jerome said. “I’m going to get the most out of this job shadowing and that means going to work with you tomorrow.”
“As your guardian I should praise your work ethic and desire to be responsible, but mostly I want you to be a teenager. Be moody, get cranky, sleep late, play hooky, skip class and make stink bombs to release in the school bathroom,” I told him.
“I am moody. I do sleep late. I do get cranky. I’m not going to release a stink bomb in the bathroom at school because my Introduction to Demonology and Exorcism teacher can trace magic and he’d discover me, and I’d get detention or something.”
“Jerome, I’m worried you work too hard and don’t have enough fun.”
“So, you’re worried I’m turning into you,” Jerome said.
“I have fun.”
“Yes, but it is boring fun. It’s hanging out with me and Helia and the girls, or your parents, or your uncles, or Abigail and her family, or Bill and his family, or Walter and Megan. Or will that stop since you and Duke broke up?”
“Walter, Megan, and I are friends for reasons beyond my dating Walter’s boss,” I said.
“Exactly what kind of fun are people my age supposed to have?”
“They go out to bars; they have boyfriends. They party.” Jerome told me.
“I did all that when I was 21. Now I’m 42 and I prefer to watch Finding Nemo and eat pizza on my own couch.”
“In angel years, you’re still a kid.”
“So are you,” I pointed out.
“I’m not an angel,” Jerome replied.
“No, you’re a wizard and that’s just as long a life span.”
“I’m a wizard bound to an archangel. That makes it longer.”
“Okay, so you’ll have a life span similar to mine,” I said. Since supernaturals give birth to other supernaturals, they don’t need to bind their children to them. We can bind one soul to our own at a time, and I had unknowingly bound Jerome’s to mine. Most supernaturals reserve the binding for a spouse of human origin, but I had bound Jerome’s to mine because wizards are a little less immortal than angels. I could break the binding if I desired, but the truth was that if Jerome was accidentally beheaded in a motor vehicle accident, I wanted him to be able to draw off my life force. That kind of injury would kill him otherwise. Hell, if I were beheaded it would probably kill me since I’m not bound to another supernatural. We are mostly immortal; we could heal most injuries and survive most catastrophes, but not all of them without being bound to another life force. It was how my mother had lived so long; she and Raphael were bound together. He had bound her soul to his own when they were in their thirties, or rather, when my mom was in her thirties.
“Why are you so worried I’m not enjoying life?” I asked Jerome, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “Truth this time,” I added.
“You know there’s a graduation at the end of eighth grade,” Jerome said. I nodded. “It comes with a formal dance. I wanted to ask Jessica to go with me.” Magic students spend the first eight years of school in schools specific to their own magic. They meet up with other supernaturals in high school where they have more choices in classes, both magic and general knowledge. Jessica was a werewolf that lived up the street from us. She and Jerome were the same age and were both in magic school.
“Okay,” I said, encouraging him to continue.
“Well, I spent the day with Remiel and he encouraged me to ask Jessica as well as Jessica’s mom for permission to take her to the dance.”
“Smart,” I agreed.
“So, I asked Jessica’s mom and she told me no. I’d been with Remiel all day, so I heard her reasons even though she didn’t voice them to me. Basically, her reasoning was that if she wasn’t allowed to have any fun, why should Jessica. She also had the thought that boys like me would woo her daughter and then run out on her like her husband did.”
“I see. And you’re worried I’m not enjoying life so I’m going to become bitter and evil as a result?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Jerome admitted.
“That is why Remiel’s gift is dangerous. Sometimes a person’s inner thoughts shouldn’t be known,” I told him.
“It goes away faster if I don’t fight against using it and just let the thoughts flow,” he told me.
“I wasn’t getting onto you for using it. I was stating a fact. However, you’ve seen my thoughts enough to know that I’m not becoming a bitter, evil woman. Also, every being on the planet has different wants. I don’t want to go to bars and hang out. I prefer hanging out with you and the other people you listed. I want you to go to parties and dances. I’ve done all that already and now it’s your turn. So, who are you going to ask next?”
“I’ll probably try Jessica again when her mom is having a better day.”
“That works, too. What are we going to get on the pizzas tonight?” I asked, changing the subject. I would talk to Jessica’s mom in a few days.
“I want the super Hawaiian,” Jerome said. The super Hawaiian had bacon, ham, pineapple, black olives, and jalapenos. It wasn’t my favorite, but I’d eat it.
“And for Helia and the girls?” I asked. Aurora wouldn’t eat black olives, ham, or jalapenos.
“Why don’t we get the girls their own pizza and you and Helia can be boring and get a super topping pizza.” The super topping includes a ton of toppings; mushrooms, pepperoni, Italian sausage, black olives, pineapple, spinach, bacon, Canadian bacon, tomatoes, red bell peppers, hot cherry peppers, jalapenos, white onion, and purple onion.
I pulled into the two-car garage. We don’t have two cars yet, but my parents designed my house with the idea that Jerome would get a car when he was old enough. I left room for Helia to pull her car in. On nights she stayed here, she parked in my garage to keep Mark, who occasionally stalked her, from being able to vandalize her car.
“What kind of pizza should we get the girls?” I asked as we both opened our doors and got out.
“Cheese, of course,” Jerome said, and I nodded. We went inside and I pulled up the app for Casanova’s Fine Pizza and placed the delivery order. It was six p.m., so it would be a half hour before Helia and the girls arrived and at least an hour before the pizza got here. Jerome already had the smart TV going and was surfing for newly released kids’ movies.
“Tomorrow, we’ll pick you up a Halloween costume,” I told him and he nodded.
“Do you want to watch Frozen 5 or The Return of the Minions?”
“The girls will want to watch the new Frozen movie,” I said. “We’ll watch the Minions another night.” At that moment a three-foot-tall yellow minion ran through the living room. I looked at Jerome.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” the boy laughed. Maybe I did worry needlessly that Jerome wasn’t young enough. Things like streaking minions were not uncommon with him.