Getting Familiar with Your Demon: That Old Black Magic, Book 4 Read online

  It really chapped his ass that Pricilla would now know where he lived, thanks to the despised tracking cuff. He’d worked hard at maintaining a low profile, and therefore keeping that aspect of his life under wraps. It’d been bad enough the council could demand his presence whenever the mood struck. He damn well didn’t want them physically showing up on his doorstep. The possibility of that souring his gut, he shot a scowl in the direction of his ankle, where the cold glint of metal peeked from the leg of his jeans. Glancing sideways, he caught Cass’s contemplative gaze.

  “It’s strange Pricilla settled for slapping that on you.”

  “No, it’s not. She’s hoping I’ll lead her to Marabella.”

  Cass remained thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, makes sense. But why do you suppose she’s interested in her?”

  He shrugged and returned his attention to the road. “I’d say that’s the million-dollar question.”

  The fidgeting beat of Cass drumming her fingers on the armrest filled the air. “We have to go talk to her—Marabella.”

  He jerked his gaze to Cass. “Want to run that by me again?”

  “We need to find out why Pricilla is interested in her.”

  “Like hell we do.”

  Cass sighed. “Sam, don’t be difficult. She might be our best shot at getting to the bottom of all this.”

  “Are you fucking nuts?” The prospect of laying eyes on Marabella again literally made his stomach clench. Unfortunately, it also made his dick stir with fond remembrance of their incredible night together. Desperation like a caged beast inside him, he latched onto the most obvious deterrent against agreeing to Cass’s asinine suggestion. “We’d be leading Pris straight to her. Not the slickest move ever.”

  “That’s why we’re going to jury-rig your tracker.” Cass leaned forward and snatched her laptop from the floor. She flipped open the screen and booted up the system. “I was working out a plan earlier. I’m willing to bet that unit on your leg houses the same GPS software used in a pair of reaper cuffs. It’s a simple matter of switching the chip in your cuff with the one in Nikki’s. As long as Nik’s cuffs stay put in your house, Pricilla will be none the wiser.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty smart.” Some of the misery had lifted from Nikki’s voice. “Assuming it’ll work, of course.”

  “I’m ninety-nine percent certain it will.” Cass swung an arm behind her seat. “Let me see ’em.”

  A metallic clank announced Nikki was in the process of removing her cuffs. A moment later the rear seat creaked as she scooted forward and passed the cuffs to her sister. Cass inspected the device and gave a considering hum. “Any chance either of you have something I could use to open the hardware dock?”

  “Yeah, I keep a toolbox in the trunk.”

  Cass pumped her fist in victory. “Awesome. Since we don’t have much time, why don’t you pull into the lot of that grocery store over there?”

  He glanced toward where she was pointing to and dutifully swung the vehicle in that direction. After pulling into a spot bordered by a nice view-blocking RV, he climbed from the GTO and popped the trunk. While Cass rummaged in the toolbox, he kept a wary eye on the cars entering the parking lot. “I can damn well guarantee you Pris’s goons will have my house staked out within the hour. How the hell do you propose we sneak by them to go anywhere?”

  “Easy. Nik’s teleport bracelet.”

  “Uh, that’ll be a problem,” Nikki called through the open window. “I don’t have it. Pricilla does. Or at least I assume so. All I know is it was gone when I came to after her paid morons knocked me out.”

  Cass swore beneath her breath. Twitching her nose, she pocketed the tiny screwdriver and needle-nose pliers she’d filched from the toolbox. “Okay, we’ll improvise for now. I’ll get the chips switched out, and Nik can drive back to your house while you and I hop a cab over to Marabella’s.”

  He narrowed his eyes at Cass. “Your sister is not driving my car.”

  She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the open passenger door. “She’ll take good care of it, I promise. Now sit.”

  Slightly nauseated at the idea of Nikki behind the wheel of the Orange Bullet, he slumped onto the seat. While Cass unscrewed the hinge covering the hardware dock on Nikki’s reaper cuffs, he tried to block out horrific images of his car bursting into flames or wrapped around a telephone pole.

  Giving a cluck of her tongue, Cass propped the device on the dash and hunkered next to his leg. “Safe to say your cuff’s been triggered with an alarm that’ll notify Pricilla if we even attempt to remove it. Hopefully I can reach the software without having to go that route.” She felt around on the underside of the metal lip and grinned. “Yes! This will be easy as pie.”

  “Speaking of pie, I’m starved,” Nikki grumbled from the backseat. “That Hulk Hogan lookalike back at Pricilla’s ate our breakfast.”

  “So we gathered.” Rolling her eyes, Cass pried open the latch on his cuff. She tapped his ankle. “Straighten your leg.” He complied with her request, and with the steady-fingered precision of a brain surgeon, she carefully removed the chip with the pliers. In less time than it took Nikki to lodge another complaint about being hungry, Cass switched both chips and screwed everything back into place. “Okay, now all that’s left is to pull up the Sat-link and make sure everything is hunky dory.”

  He checked the clock on the dash. “Make it fast. We’ve already wasted five minutes.”

  “And there’s the Sam we all know and love.” Chortling, Nikki climbed over the center console and plopped into the driver’s seat. She gripped the wheel and made obnoxious squealing noises as she pretended to buck around in the seat.

  Where was the damn Maalox when he needed it? Ignoring the acid churning in his gut, he returned his scrutiny to Cass. “You about done tinkering with that thing?”

  “Yep. Everything looks great.” Cass shot a look toward Nikki. “No detouring. Straight home to Sam’s, and make sure you take the cuffs in with you.”

  “Yes, boss.” Nikki gunned the engine and grinned. “Ooh mama. Listen to that baby purr.”

  His knees wobbled. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “It’ll be fine. Come on.” Grasping his clammy palm, Cass tugged him toward the adjacent grocery store.

  They stepped inside the cool interior, where he was bombarded with cheesy jazz music while Cass called for a cab on her cell phone. Despite the relative shittiness of his situation, he found himself humming along with the tune. Cass hung up and stared at him.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Uh…you were humming just now.”

  “Yeah? I’m not allowed to hum?”

  “Sam, it’s disco music.”

  “No, it’s jazz. Big difference.”

  For a moment it looked like she was on the verge of arguing, but finally she just shook her head. “Whatever. The cab’s on its way. In the meantime, I was thinking we should pick up a few things while we’re here.”

  He grunted. “Yeah, I’m low on dish soap.”

  “Smartass. Not what I meant.” Snagging his wrist again, she towed him toward the produce section. He was starting to feel like a damn dog on a leash. Without warning, she slammed to a halt next to an end cap displaying flower bouquets packaged in colorful cellophane. “Which do you suppose Marabella would like more?”

  He squinted at the back of her head as she stooped over a bunch of red roses and sniffed loudly. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “They may look pretty, but sometimes they have zero smell. A true test of the perfect flower goes beyond mere visual beauty.” The look she tossed him over her shoulder hinted that he was possibly a moron for not already being in on the ground floor of this amazing revelation.

  He gritted his teeth. “I meant why are you buying flowers for her?”

  “I’m not. You are.”

  “Why would I do something like that?”

  “Because it’s romantic and thoughtful.”

&n
bsp; He gifted Cass with a suspicious glare before stepping back from the floral display like it was stocked with poisonous vipers rather than innocuous daisies, carnations and roses. “Get any and all matchmaking ideas out of your head.”

  “This one is nice.” Studiously ignoring him, Cass plucked a fat bouquet of pink roses, ferns and some kind of weird spiky purple flower from one of the plastic containers and moseyed toward the registers. Growling, he stalked after her and the dripping trail of water leaking from the bundled flowers.

  They reached the checkout, and he dug his wallet from his pocket with a barely caged snarl. “I’m shocked you don’t want me to bring her chocolates too.”

  “Oh, thanks for reminding me.” Cass snagged a Kit Kat bar from the side rack and added it to the flowers on the conveyor belt.

  Son of a bitch.

  Several seconds later, they walked back outside and hopped into the cab waiting for them at the entrance. After giving the driver directions to Bella’s Boutique, Sam slouched in the seat and tried not to think about the horrible offenses Nikki was putting his car through, or his upcoming reunion with Marabella.

  Why the devil had he agreed to this? Then again, Cass hadn’t exactly given him a choice. Yes, the logical part of his brain knew she was right in regards to Marabella offering a possible clue to what Pricilla was up to. But an even larger part of him was leery of the magnetic pull he experienced around Marabella.

  Leery? Hell, try terrified. He’d fallen victim to lust and desire plenty of times in the past. But that didn’t hold a candle to whatever this was between him and Marabella. Anything that could consume him this way wasn’t to be trusted, much less courted. The sooner he dug to the bottom of things and put Marabella firmly behind him, the better.

  The biggest question was what role Marabella played in whatever scheme was cooking in Pricilla’s devious head. Pris had obviously been intrigued to learn a witch broke his seal, to the point she let him go free in hopes of him leading her to Marabella. But to what purpose?

  His brain beginning to ache from the multitude of unresolved questions piling up, he groaned and rubbed his temple.

  “I think we’re here,” Cass whispered.

  He opened his eyes. Sure enough, the cab had coasted to a halt in front of Marabella’s shop. His heart started beating in double time. Unable to defeat the strange compulsion drawing him, he scanned the front windows for sign of Marabella. He spotted her hanging sparkly suncatchers in the room where they’d made love.

  Correction, fucked. He didn’t make love, for devil’s sake. Just like he didn’t bring a woman damn flowers and chocolate.

  His surly musings grew fainter as he continued to stare at Marabella. No matter how desperately he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. A shiny cascade of golden strands brushed the soft upper swells of her breasts. He remembered the feel of those luscious mounds as they nestled in his palms. Remembered the sweet, addictive taste of her beneath his tongue. An urgent surge of hot need speared low in his belly.

  Fuck, he wanted to peel off her clothes and devour every inch of her all over again. Once she was breathless and screaming for release, he’d bury his cock deep inside her. Right against the windows, so the entire world would see that she was his.

  That unwelcome and disturbing thought jarred him from his trance.

  “Sam, is that her?”

  He turned his head to see that Cass was also gaping at Marabella. “Yeah.”

  “Oh man. I think we’re in a shitload of trouble here.”

  He snorted. “Welcome to my world.”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t read her.”

  He blinked. “Say what?”

  “There’s a security block on her soul that’s denying me access.” Her eyes wide, Cass shifted her focus to him. “Who the hell is this girl?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Satisfied the crystal suncatchers were securely anchored on their hooks, Marabella inched down from the stepladder. “Looks pretty darn good, if I say so myself.” She gave herself a mental pat on the back just as the chimes announced potential customers. Thank the goddess. Sales had been below mediocre the past couple days. Sure, it’d given her plenty opportunity to work on the bid she was placing on the Alliance Headquarters job, but that certainly wasn’t paying the bills in the meantime.

  Straightening the hem of her yellow polka-dotted skirt, she casually made her way to the front of the store. And jerked to a wobbly halt when she spotted Sam. Their gazes crashed into each other. Yes, it was cheesy and cliché to think it, but she truly swore the Earth stopped revolving.

  She’d grown complacent with the notion of never seeing him again. Goddess knows, it would have been better that way. Because then she might have actually been able to continue deluding herself that the mere sight of him didn’t make her heart and stomach perform simultaneous somersaults.

  Somehow she managed to get her tongue working again. “W-what are you doing—?” Suddenly recalling that Findley Cosgrove was due to stop by to return a few power cords she’d borrowed for the ball, Marabella gasped. “You being here—incredibly bad idea.”

  “Shit, you’re telling me,” Sam muttered.

  The knockout redhead standing next to Sam elbowed him in the ribs with enough force to make him groan. “What my clueless cousin really meant to say is he’s happy to see you. He even brought you flowers.” The woman glanced expectantly at Sam, and her grin fizzled. “Where are the flowers and candy?”

  “I thought you grabbed them.” Sam scowled. “Are you telling me I dished out twenty bucks for no damn good reason?”

  “Well, at least the cabbie will feel extra special today,” his cousin offered with a sigh.

  More than stunned at Sam’s sweet, albeit failed attempt to bring her flowers, Marabella blinked and returned her attention to the pretty redhead. “You and Sam are related?” There was no reason that announcement should fill her with relief. It’s not like she’d been jealous thinking they might be an item.

  “Yep. I’m Cass.” Sam’s cousin extended her hand with a warm, genuine smile.

  She accepted the shake. “Marabella Blanchard.”

  Cass clasped her hand for longer than necessary. That, added with the curious way she was looking at her, made Marabella uncomfortable. After an awkward hesitation, Cass finally let her go. “Damn, still nothing.”

  “Pardon?”

  “It’s very important that we talk to you.” Cass glanced around the store. “Is there someplace private we can do this?”

  “Err, not to be rude or anything, but I don’t exactly have time to chat right now. Not to mention I’m expecting a visitor any second who’ll be more than a little freaked out to discover two demons standing in the middle of my shop.”

  “Actually, I’m only half demon.”

  Oh, well in that case… Somehow Marabella stifled the urge to laugh hysterically. “I’m sorry, truly. But you have to go. Both of you.”

  Cass’s expression turned apologetic. “That’s going to be a wee bit of a problem.”

  Panic and frustration welling within her, Marabella slid her gaze to Sam. He offered her no reasonable way out of the situation. Of course not.

  A defeated exhale leaked from her. “Fine. You can wait in my apartment. But whatever you do, stay put until I come up there.”

  Hurrying ahead of Sam and Cass, she ushered them toward the rear of the store. She practically wrenched the door from its frame and shoved her unexpected guests into the stairway vestibule. The chimes dinged again, and she slammed the door shut. Oh goddess. Talk about a close call. Woozy from the adrenaline pumping through her, she rushed back toward the front entrance just in time to meet Findley.

  “Forgive me for not getting these to you sooner, my dear.” The older woman placed the small box of cords on the nearby demilune table before offering Marabella a hug.

  “N-no worries. I’m sure it’s been hectic getting everything situated after the ball.”

  “You can
say that again. But it was a roaring success, so you’ll get no complaints from me.”

  For the next several minutes, Marabella patiently listened to Findley’s recounting of some of the more entertaining moments from the party, but the whole time she couldn’t stop thinking about Sam and Cass upstairs in the apartment. Oh goddess, did I put my laundry away from earlier? A visual of Sam fingering her bras and panties floated through her mind, and her cheeks heated.

  “Well, I really must be going. I left Russell puttering away on one of his alchemist potions. Can’t have him blowing up the potting shed again.” After a hurried final exchange of hugs, Findley trotted through the door.

  Her pent-up breath whooshing free, Marabella locked the entrance and flipped the sign to Closed. Scurrying as fast as her high heels would allow, she made it to the rear stairway and barreled up to the apartment. Cass was parked on the couch, her hands folded demurely in her lap. Judging from the noises coming from the small kitchen, Sam was busy rummaging through the refrigerator. Well, on the bright side, there weren’t any bras or panties for him to fondle in there.

  Cass’s smile appeared pained. “I told him it was rude to raid someone else’s fridge.”

  “Tough. After the day I’ve had, I need a damn beer,” Sam called.

  “Sorry, I don’t have any. There might be a wine cooler somewhere in there though.” Another bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to overtake her. Any moment she expected to wake up and discover this was all just a surreal dream. Wringing her hands, she glanced at Cass. “W-would you care for anything to drink?”

  Cass grinned. “You’re unbelievably polite and gracious for someone who’s been blindsided with uninvited guests.”

  “You can thank my mom for that.” Oh goddess. Domino. If she ever found out about this…

  “I’m fine, but you look like you could possibly stand a shot of something,” Cass said softly. “I always recommend whiskey in cases like this.”

  Sam ventured from the kitchen and leaned in the archway. “I’ll second that.”

  It was almost impossible to tear her gaze from the tempting visual of his T-shirt pulled snug across his broad chest. It wasn’t fair for a demon and self-proclaimed bastard to be gifted with such a mouth-watering physique. With great effort, she returned her focus to Cass. “I think it’s best if you tell me why you’re both here.” And then leave before I do something stupid. Like jump Sam and have her wicked way with him.