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It was supposed to be three days, Janet thought bitterly. Three days was just long enough to celebrate her father's birthday and check on her mother's condition. Just long enough for Kaylee to see her grandparents and then for Janet to take her daughter and get the hell out of Dodge again before anything weird could surface to mess with them.
Only, as Janet well knew, Eerie weirdness could surface in the tick of a second.
Which is how she found herself in the abandoned shack by the edge of Deadwood Park, holding a squirt gun full of counterfeit holy water on a ten-foot-tall creature made of brimstone and yellow teeth calling itself Terrence, Sub-Lord of the Nether Hells, Uncommon Soul Eater, Devourer of the Young. With only Marshall Teller's probable-alien associate as a sorry excuse for backup.
"Let her go," Janet demanded. She was aware she had no leverage here, but this was her daughter and she couldn't let that stop her.
Terrence kept his grip on three-year-old Kaylee. "I'm afraid it's too late," he said in an even, we're-all-reasonable-beings-here tone. He wiped the ineffectual water from his brow with one of his other hands. "She traded her soul to me for the food of the Nether Hells. Most of which, as you can see, she's already devoured. Or has chosen to wear."
He was unfortunately telling the truth. What remained of the food of the Nether Hells, in the form of one very melty chocolate bar, was either clutched in Kaylee's small fist or smeared all over Kaylee's face.
Kaylee's grin was beginning to waver. "Mom?"
"It's okay, sweetie," Janet told her, willing both of them not to panic. She addressed the Sub-Lord of the Nether Hells again. "She didn't know what she was doing," she told him. "She's three. Too young to make deals."
The creature's resulting shrug was many-shouldered and revolting. "Nevertheless."
Tendrils of shadows began to rise up from beneath to take him and Janet's daughter down to the darkness below. For a moment, Janet thought it was all over.
Then Dash spoke up. "I'll trade you."
"What?" The shadows receded. Terrence turned to Dash, toothy eyebrows raised.
"What?" Janet echoed.
"I'll trade you," Dash repeated. "The way I see it, you're the Uncommon Soul Eater, right? But what you've got there is the extremely common soul of an ordinary snot-nosed toddler. A sticky one, at that."
Janet glared at him. Kaylee, who had returned to finishing her chocolate, didn't seem to mind or be paying attention.
Terrence nodded, acknowledging the point.
"I've got something far more valuable," Dash continued. "Not something that I'd ordinarily part with, mind you, but my housemates have a certain fondness for the kid's mom here and if I let anything happen to either of them, there's a decent chance I'll never know a good night's sleep in my own bed again. So you're getting a bargain here."
Terrence's toothy ears perked up and he inclined his dreadful head. "I'm listening."
"Give us the kid back, soul intact," Dash continued, "and I'll let you take mine instead."
Janet turned to him. "What?!"
"Hmm." Terrence scratched his toothy chin. "You are an uncommon…creature, it's true. Yours would be a very uncommon soul. But I'm a Devourer of the Young. That's also kind of my whole thing. And you are—"
"Ten years old."
Terrence look puzzled. "Oh?"
"At least as far as I remember," Dash continued. "I've got amnesia. My soul has a little over ten years worth of remembered life experience on it total. Would that count?"
"It…would, yes." Terrence's disgusting yellowed eyebrows drew together. Then he sighed a cloud of noxious smoke. "Alas, creature, I can't get a good read on you. I have no way of knowing if you're being honest with me until I actually sample the merchandise. I don't want to do that and find it lacking a certain freshness. And so—"
"Ask anybody," Dash interrupted. He gestured toward Janet. "Ask her."
"I—" Janet knew exactly what was being asked of her here and exactly what that would mean. She didn't hesitate. "He's not lying," she told Terrence, meeting his bicuspid-ringed eyes and letting him see the truth of it. "I swear. I've known him since I was a kid."
The demon studied her for a moment, then turned to Dash. "Very well," he said. "I accept the trade. I'm giving her back, soul intact. And in return, your soul is mine."
With two of his arms, Terrence extended Kaylee toward Janet. With three of the others, he grabbed Dash around his throat and wrists and pulled him close.
Janet held her breath and tried not to gag on Terrence's scent as she dropped the squirt gun and took her daughter into her arms.
"Mommy?" Kaylee wrapped sticky, chocolate-covered arms around Janet's neck. "What's wrong? Are you mad? Are you crying? Is it 'cause I spoiled my dinner?"
"No, sweetie," Janet told her. "I'm not mad. Just hold on and keep your eyes shut tight, okay?" She felt Kaylee nod against her shoulder. Then she turned to Dash. "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Save it," Dash managed to choke out, despite the demonic hand around his throat and the stench he had to be enduring. "Just take the kid, get out of here, and find Marshall. Tell him exactly what happened, okay?"
"I will," Janet vowed. It was the least she owed him. "I swear it."
Dash closed his eyes. "Go!"
The shadows began to rise from beneath again.
Janet ran.
She held tight to Kaylee, covering her ears, and kept going as she heard the screams behind her, hating herself the whole time.
She'd sacrificed Dash X for her daughter. She'd do it again in a heartbeat, too. What mother wouldn't? But even knowing that, even knowing—his uncharacteristic self-sacrifice here aside—Dash was a horrible person would never make that any easier to live with.
She didn't know what she was going to tell Marshall and Simon.
She was almost to the road when the Teller station wagon sped past, screeched to a halt, and reversed direction to pull up in front of her. The next thing she knew, she and Kaylee were in Simon's arms and Marshall was next to them asking, "What happened? Where's Dash?"
Janet couldn't look at him. She wasn't sure what to say. There was no way she could explain it that he would ever forgive.
So she closed her eyes and, with some editing for Kaylee's sake, told him the truth. All of it.
She wasn't sure what reaction she'd been expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't Marshall's sigh of amused resignation and muttered, "Of course he did."
Janet opened her eyes and blinked at him. "Huh?"
Instead of answering, Marshall turned to Simon. "Take Janet and Kaylee to the car and make sure they're safe, okay? I'll be right back."
And he ran off down the hill toward the abandoned shack.
Simon took Kaylee—who was, owing to some miracle or possibly the consumption of too much Nether Hells chocolate, now asleep—and started to guide them the station wagon, but Janet planted her feet firmly in the soil. "I don't understand," she said. "What just happened? What's Marshall doing?"
Simon's expression seemed, if anything, almost embarrassed. "It's okay," he said. "You didn't know."
In the distance, Janet heard the shack door slam open and Marshall shouting, "Hey, Uncommon Soul Eater! We need to talk!"
She turned back to Simon. "I didn't know what?"
"Dash can't trade his own soul," said Simon.
"Dash…what?"
"It's a long story," Simon explained with a sigh. "But Dash doesn't own Dash's soul. Marshall does."
In the distance, Janet heard the frustrated, unholy scream of the demon.
Followed by Marshall's "I'm gonna need my property back, Terrence!"
And Dash's distinctive voice. "Hey, I said I'd let you take it, not that he'd let you keep it!"
"The short version," Simon continued apologetically, "is that the Sub-Lord of the Nether Hells has just made an illegitimate deal on Marshall's territory."
"Which means?" Janet was almost afraid to ask.
"It means we're not going to have to worry about missing kids around Deadwood Park anymore." Simon sighed again. "At least, well, not because of that guy."
There was another unholy scream followed by Dash's laughter.
"Great." Janet gritted her teeth and wished she could feel uncomplicated relief.
But this was Eerie, and Eerie always found a way to mess with you.