Under My Skin by James Dawson Page A

eyes.
    â€˜If you really think that’s gonna work,’ said a familiar Texan voice, ‘you been watching
way
too many bad movies.’
    â€˜Oh, who asked you?’ Sally said aloud.

Chapter Ten
    I should have gone straight to Stan.
    On reflection, he should have been Sally’s first port of call – who knew more about demons than
Satanville
’s biggest fan? By the time she got back to Mulberry Hill, Stan was already home and had changed into a pair of cut-off tracksuit bottoms and an oversized New York Knicks
jersey. ‘Where were you this afternoon, abandoner?’ he asked as they trotted up to his room. ‘I can’t believe you left me with Jennie and the Knoblin King.’
    â€˜Sorry,’ Sally said. ‘I came home. Women’s problems again.’
    Stan sat on his beanbag and unpaused the game he was playing. He appeared to be toting a very large gun/penile extension through a derelict art-deco hotel that was suffering a zombie infestation. ‘OK, I know that’s a lie because you had your women’s problems, like, two weeks ago.’
    Sally felt her cheeks redden. ‘We spend way too much time together.’
    He paused the game again to pay full attention. ‘I didn’t want to push it the other night, but what’s actually wrong? Is someone giving you a hard time? I’ll duff them up for you.’ Sally avoided his gaze and wondered if she could change the subject. Stan had a mountain of uneaten toast and Nutella next to his computer. He’d even toasted the end crusts.
Who does that?
    â€˜No. Well . . .’ Sally thought on her feet. ‘I’m just massively freaking out about
Little Shop
. I don’t want to do it, but I can’t pull out either. If you really must know, I have a nervous tummy,’ she fibbed.
    Stan grimaced. ‘Ew. Nutella?’ He grinned.
    â€˜You’re disgusting.’
    â€˜Says Miss Poopy-Pants.’ He shoved a whole slice of toast in his mouth. ‘What are we doing tonight? Can we
not
go to the lake? I say sleepover! We could watch this week’s
STV
again or we could see what’s on Netflix? Mum and Gary said we could have the lounge.’
    Sally wondered how to tackle the Molly Sue issue subtly. ‘What’s that episode of
Satanville
in season one where Zeke had the parasite demon thing?’
    Stan’s eyes lit up. ‘Ooh,
The Hitchhiker
. That episode blew so hard.’
    Nodding, Sally sat on the bed and plopped Mr Squid in her lap. It
really
hadn’t been a classic episode, not one that she rewatched. ‘What was that demon called?’
    Stan ran a hand through his mop of hair. ‘Erm . . . Parasite Demon? I don’t think it had a name, to be honest.’
    â€˜Can we watch that one?’
    â€˜Really?’ he said with mild disgust. ‘Why?’
    â€˜No reason.’
    â€˜If we’re going to watch season one, we should watch the one where Taryn turned into a cat.’
    Ooh, that was a good one.
‘You know what? We should probably just watch season one from the start.’
    And that was what they did. Nine hours, two stuffed-crust meat feasts, one tub of Phish Food and two litres of Diet Coke later they had finished the boxset and it was a little after one a.m. With
Satanville
as her catnip, Sally was wide awake and had agreed to sleepover despite her previous vow. It was a Friday, after all.
    But she was no nearer to understanding Molly Sue. The Parasite Demon took the form of a grotesque baby ghoul thing that latched onto Zeke’s back, while the only other comparable demon was a succubus who took the form of a beautiful woman, although her MO was to drain the life-force from hot guys by having sex with them. So far, as Molly Sue hadn’t tried to do
that
, Sally figured she wasn’t a succubus. There was also a homunculus demon – a tiny version of a guest star that lived in a fold in his stomach, but that