Demons in My Driveway by R.L. Naquin

taken over about a year ago when old Stan retired. Stan had
not
been charming as hell. In fact, I made him brownies for Christmas once and he yelled at me for being inconsiderate because he was diabetic. The old bastard always left my boxes in the bushes where I’d get all scratched up when I retrieved them.
    Rick always brought my boxes to the door.
    So far, he hadn’t seen any of the shenanigans going on at my house in the past year, but it was only a matter of time before he walked into something I couldn’t explain away or distract him from.
    I glared at Pansy, who still sat atop the neighbor’s house, flapping her arms and being obnoxious.
    I turned on my heel and marched toward the house. Darius might not be around, but Maurice would love to know what that bitch was up to now.
    I made it two steps before a snarling, snapping something rushed out of the bushes behind me. When I whirled around, all I saw was a blur as something bigger darted after it, then tackled the first figure across the path and into the bushes on the opposite side.
    The bushes churned, and terrifying grunts and muffled words drifted out. Shouts rang out from the top of the driveway, and Riley appeared at my elbow, pulling me toward the house.
    “Wait,” I said, “what
was
that?”
    Kam dove into the shrubbery, her voice joining with the other two. Riley didn’t release me until he’d tugged me over the line into the safety of the fairy ring.
    Kam popped out first, twigs caught in her hair and her bobby socks. Right behind her, Darius emerged, unfolding his tall frame and revealing a tight grip on a man-sized, hairy creature that nipped and struggled to break loose. Darius held the creature’s arms behind its back in a position that looked painful. He half walked, half dragged it toward us, while Kam followed as backup.
    The closer they drew to me, the more agitated the creature became. Its eyes rolled, and foamy spittle flew from its mouth. Darius’s brow drew into a scowl as he shoved his prey to stand in front of Talia.
    “This belong to you?” he asked, shaking the shaggy, manlike creature.
    Talia blinked all fourteen of her eyes. “This isn’t right,” she said in a murmur. She placed a taloned hand across the thing’s forehead, as if checking the temperature of a sick child. “He’s cool to the touch. He should be hot.”
    The creature calmed beneath her hand. His panting slowed, and he closed his eyes. I took a step and his eyes flew open. He snarled and struggled to lunge in my direction.
    I stepped back, and he calmed. Experimenting, I took a step forward, then back, getting the same frenzied results from the creature. “It’s me. He’s trying to get to me.”
    The front door opened behind me, and Mom’s voice interrupted. “Zoey, how many people should we expect for dinner?”
    Again, the creature’s eyes flew open, and he fought Darius’s.
    “Go back inside, Clara,” Darius said in a quiet, cool voice.
    It was probably best that he was the one who said it. If I’d told her to go back in the house, she’d have argued. But Darius told her to go in, so it must be dangerous for her to stay there. Without a word, she retreated and closed the door.
    Darius glanced at me and shrugged. He didn’t bother telling me to go in the house.
    We understood each other, Darius and I.
    As long as he worked with me and didn’t try to manage me, we’d be fine.
    “So what exactly is an aswang?” I peered at the creature’s matted hair and hunched shoulders, trying to find clues to what the creature was. In a lot of ways, he looked very much like the old-school description of a werewolf. He stood nearly straight on two legs and had pointed ears and hair covering nearly every inch of him. But his face was humanlike, despite the way it was drawn into a snarl. He snapped his sharp teeth in my direction every time I moved or spoke.
    Talia stroked the side of the aswang’s face, comforting him. “They’re a strange breed that