Getting Familiar with Your Demon: That Old Black Magic, Book 4 Page 8

  Domino extracted herself from Marabella’s embrace. “I really must get going. I promised Harley I’d have coffee with him this morning before he heads back to Detroit.”

  “Give him a hug goodbye for me.” Hopefully it’d make up for the awkward scene last night at the Samhain ball. Her breath lodged painfully in her esophagus. Oh shit. If Harley mentioned Sam to her mom, it might get Domino’s radar buzzing. Swallowing hard to defeat the queasiness sloshing around in her stomach, she trailed her mom to the exit. “I’m glad you stopped by.”

  “Me too.” Domino hesitated before glancing over her shoulder. “Just a word of wisdom, Marabella. Keep those mischievous elves far away from your bed. They appear to be nothing but trouble.”

  She gaped at her mother’s retreating back. Hard to say if Domino’s observation had been a rare attempt at humor, or a subtle warning.

  Either way, one thing was certain—truer words had never been spoken. Only in her case, sexy, aggravating demons were a million times more dangerous than mischievous elves.

  Chapter Eleven

  “He looks dead.”

  “No. Can’t you see he’s breathing?”

  “I said he looks dead. I’ve been around plenty of stiffs to know the difference, Cass. And why is he glowing like that? Is he radioactive or something? Should we be wearing HAZMAT suits?”

  “Nik, could you zip it for a minute? I’m trying to think here.”

  Sam groaned. Even that much effort was a study in agony. At the moment, he wished with every fiber of his miserable soul that Cass and Nikki would take their arguing elsewhere. Preferably to a planet in another galaxy. If that was even far enough away.

  “Sam? Are you awake?” The question came from Cass.

  “No,” he croaked.

  “Dude, you’ve been out of it for forty-eight hours. You had us worried.” Nikki’s statement broke through his brain fog. Opening his eyes, he blinked groggily at his unwanted visitors. Cousins or no, it was damn disconcerting having a pair of grim reapers camped at his bedside. Particularly considering their earlier conversation.

  Then again, with the way he felt, death would be a merciful bitch. “What do you mean I’ve been out of it for two days?” There was no way that could be possible. He never slept that long. Shit, more than six hours was a luxury for him.

  Cass must have read the denial in his eyes because she squeezed his shoulder gently. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness that whole time, and mostly delusional. I’m not surprised you can’t remember any of it.”

  Delusional? What the fuck did that mean? He’d been drooling and talking to imaginary midgets for two days straight? He slung an arm above his head and groaned. “If this is a side effect of my seal being broken, it sure as hell would have been nice if you’d given me some warning.” Clamping his eyes shut again, he waited for the spinning in his brain to dissipate. Or orbit him into space.

  Neither happened, and he still felt like shit.

  “Honestly, I don’t know if this is a side effect,” Cass admitted.

  Well double fuck. Wasn’t that reassuring? He pried one eye open and glared at Cass. “Want to run that by me again?”

  “Technically, this isn’t supposed to be happening.” Cass made a vague gesture toward his shivering, sweat-soaked body. “There wasn’t any reference to this in the research I did. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Did it mention anything about his weird glow? Because that’s damn freaky.”

  “Um, no.”

  The way Cass and Nikki were staring at him left him feeling uncomfortably like a bug under a microscope. Not looking forward to what he was about to discover, he shifted his arm and inspected it. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him from what he could tell. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not glowing.”

  A frown wrinkled Cass’s forehead. “You can’t see it? That’s…odd.”

  Unable to take their wary observation a second longer, he shoved the covers aside and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. His heavy, weak limbs protested any further attempt to move, but after a brief struggle, he successfully planted his feet on the carpet and stood. He wobbled, the room going wonky for a moment. Cass and Nikki both grabbed him. Waving off their assistance, he staggered to the bathroom. The sight greeting him in the mirror wasn’t pretty. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair plastered to his skull on one side and sticking up in messy spikes on the other. Scruff had overtaken his jaw, adding to his overall death-warmed-over appearance. The one thing not apparent however was any damn glow. Yeah, his pallor was gray and generally lifeless, but other than that, basically normal.

  He caught Cass’s and Nikki’s reflections in the mirror and shrugged. “You two need to have your eyes checked.”

  Cass cleared her throat. “Sam, take our word for it. There’s something strange going on with you.”

  Shit, they wouldn’t get any argument from him there. He twisted the faucet on. Steadying himself with one fist braced against the ledge of the basin, he splashed water on his face one-handed. The icy water delivered a brisk, welcome slap. Turning his shoulder slightly, he glanced in the mirror and spied the faded section of his tattoo that covered his brand.

  The visual proof of his broken seal filled him with contradicting emotions. He’d managed to accomplish what should have been the impossible, and in the process severed the one true claim Pricilla held on him. To say he was thrilled about that turn of events was a massive understatement. But having a huge part of himself stripped from existence left him with a strange hollowness inside. He’d been a soul collector practically his entire life. Certainly longer than he hadn’t been one. It was a status he’d hungered for. Killed for. Before Nettie came along, he would have sworn with his last breath it’d be a title he’d take to the grave.

  Now it was simply…gone.

  “Sam, you okay?”

  A snort fell from Nikki. “Jeez, Cass. The guy’s been through the wringer the past two days. Not to mention tortured for six solid months before that. What do you think?”

  He dropped his hand from the sink and met the concern in Cass’s eyes. The softness he read there clued him in that unlike Nikki, she’d picked up on his disturbed musings. Everything was too new, too raw, to share with anyone. Hell, he didn’t even know how to untangle the twisted mess of his thoughts. There was no way he could reveal any of it in a way that’d make sense. So he lied. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Cass didn’t look convinced, but she remained quiet for a long spell as he dragged his damp fingers through his hair, trying to tame it into submission. The heat of her and Nikki’s stares continued to drill into him, and he waited for the dreaded questions he knew were forthcoming. Being typically female—well, in Cass’s case anyway, most of the time he suspected Nikki didn’t realize she wasn’t a hardassed guy—they’d want gossip.

  Specifically, dirt on his seal breaker. He’d just as soon not think about Marabella. Ever. It’d go a long way toward breaking his obsession with her.

  Against his better judgment, he glanced at Cass. Aw hell. Might as well get it done and over with. “Go ahead and spit it out.”

  “I didn’t want to say anything until you’re feeling better, but it’s probably best you know now.” Cass took a deep breath before releasing it in a weary rush. “Pricilla put a bounty on you yesterday. Word on the street is the price tag on you is outrageous.”

  “A cool quarter of a mil,” Nikki supplied. “You’re a real popular dude right now, coz.”

  He groaned. Bloody fuck. The odds of him living to the end of the week—hell, tomorrow—were slim to none now. Shit, he had said he’d rather be dead than shackled to Pricilla. Guess he’d gotten that wish handed to him on a silver platter. One lined with a disgusting amount of cold hard cash. Mighty generous of Pricilla to be contributing to the state of the economy with his death warrant.

  “The orders are to bring you in alive,” Cass added, apparently plugging into his morose thoughts again.

&n
bsp; “Naturally. No doubt the damn bitch wants the honor of killing me herself.”

  Nikki gnawed her lip. “It’s not safe you staying here. Maybe popping off to some remote hideaway in Antarctica is in order.”

  He gritted his teeth. “I’m not moving to Antarctica.”

  “That won’t work anyway.” Cass pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “With your seal fried, you’re not popping anywhere.”

  Aw fuck. That’s why he hadn’t been able to teleport the other night. He hadn’t considered how losing his seal would end up costing him his soul collector perks. Yet one more part of his life that’d been stripped in one fell swoop.

  “So he’ll have to drive.” Nikki pivoted and strode into the bedroom. “Where’s your suitcase?”

  He stumbled after her. “I’m not going anywhere.” This was his home, damn it. Pricilla could sic all the goons she wanted on his ass. He wasn’t going to tuck tail and run.

  An exasperated sound fizzled from Cass, and he turned to find her frowning at him. “You’re being stubborn again, Sam. Your life is in danger if you stay in Savannah. You know that.”

  “I’m not stupid. I’m fully aware my days are numbered.”

  Cass’s gaze became pleading. “They don’t have to be. Nik and I will talk to Mom. We’ll stash you—”

  “No. Do not involve Sonia in this.” His aunt was a force to be reckoned with, even on a good day. If she was made aware of the fact he’d broken his seal—and therefore tarnished the Gorasola family name—there would be hell to pay. Blood or not, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was infuriated enough to hand him over to Pricilla herself. He jabbed a finger in Cass’s direction. “You don’t need to be involved in this shit either. Both of you are going back to your dad’s. I’ll figure out a plan on my own.” The last thing he needed was Tobias and Sonia breathing down his neck for involving their daughters in his mess. Pricilla and her henchmen were child’s play compared to his aunt and uncle.

  Nikki joined her sister in the center of the room. “We’re not going anywhere.” Eyes flashing with challenge, she tilted her chin at an obstinate angle. No doubt she was relishing the opportunity to throw his own words in his face.

  Frustration a snarling beast rattling at his cage, he paced the carpet. “This isn’t your fight.”

  Cass linked arms with Nikki. “Wanna bet?”

  For the love of everything unholy, was there a damn female on this planet who wasn’t determined to drive him out of his fucking mind?

  Chapter Twelve

  Half an hour later, marginally refreshed from his shower, Sam walked into the kitchen. The feverlike chills and shakes that’d plagued him earlier were gone. He wished to the devil the same could be said for his massive headache, but at least it was something he could deal with.

  Cass had moved her quasi work base from the dining room to the kitchen island. She glanced up from her laptop and swept him with an appraising look as he ventured to the coffeemaker. A frown tweaked her brow. “You’re not glowing anymore.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yeah, it’s just…weird.” She pillowed her chin in her hand. “Other than that, how are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve got one mother of a hangover.”

  She gave a considering hum as she tapped the computer keys. “I’ve been digging deeper into the research, but so far no luck with what might be happening with your body’s odd reaction.”

  “Does it matter? My seal’s broken. It’s worth a damn headache for life, if it comes down to it.” Which, for all intents and purposes, might not be very long anyway. He snagged a mug from the cupboard and topped it off with the steaming coffee. He started to take a swallow but stalled short, giving the murky liquid in the cup a wary glance. “Your sister didn’t brew this, did she?”

  Cass snorted. “Please.” She held up a mug identical to his. “Would I be drinking this if she did? I’m not that much of a glutton for punishment.”

  Satisfied his gut wasn’t going to rebel at the contents about to be introduced to it, he gulped down a healthy swallow of the joe. His empty stomach made no further protest beyond a loud gurgle.

  “I sent Nikki out for food,” Cass said, obviously commiserating with his near-starved state. “Knowing her, she’ll bring back donuts and Mountain Dew. Breakfast of champions.” She rolled her eyes.

  He didn’t give a rat’s ass at this point. Hell, he was so damn hungry he’d eat a rat’s ass.

  Okay, maybe not. Ravenous or not, he did have his limits. The mug warming his hand, he joined Cass at the center island. While he kicked the stool back with his foot and straddled it, she offered him a strangely sly smile before returning her focus to the laptop screen. Five seconds later, she shot him another covert look. Lips twitching, she took a dainty sip of her coffee.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She uttered the two words in that innocent way all women do when they’re holding a cherished bit of information they can’t wait to stab you in the back with when you’re least expecting it.

  “Good.”

  As he’d predicted, Cass’s cagey grin morphed into a frown. “You’re not supposed to give up that easily.”

  Yes, he was. Especially since he suspected he didn’t want to hear whatever she was dying to say.

  Giving a stubborn twitch of her nose, she wound a coppery strand around her forefinger. “You mumbled all kinds of things about her, you know. While you were delusional.”

  Fuck. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t— “Who?”

  “Bella. Or as you were fond of phrasing it…sweet Bella.” The sappy way she said Marabella’s name left no doubt at how idiotic he must have sounded.

  Son of a bitch. If only the Quints had finished him off. He wouldn’t be dealing with the fallout of his damn delusion-based chattering now.

  Cass’s smile returned. “I think you liked her. A lot.”

  “My brain was mush. Anything I said then can’t be held against me now.”

  Cass made a noncommittal noise that caused his gut to cramp. He cleared his throat. “What did I, uh, say exactly?”

  “A bunch of stuff.” Her cheeks reddened. “Most of it I don’t want to repeat.”

  Ah. Sex ramblings. He could live with that.

  “But there was one thing that kind of surprised me. You called her moyet.”

  The demon equivalent of mate. Shit, he really had been out of his fucking mind if he mumbled that bullshit. As a general rule, most demons didn’t partner up. It went against their nature to share living quarters day after day. Now a nice tumble in the sack whenever the mood struck—an entirely different beast. But cohabitation? The mere idea was enough to make any demon break out in a cold sweat. He honestly didn’t know how his aunt did it. Probably her only saving grace had been marrying a reaper. Because shit knows, two demons thrown into unholy matrimony would inevitably result in one strangling the other to death, and likely just for leaving the toilet seat up.

  “Do you think you’ll ever see her again?” Cass asked, bringing him back to the moment.

  “Who?”

  Cass edged her cup safely away from her laptop. “Bella.”

  He stared at her. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

  “I don’t mean right now. Obviously with everything going on, that would be stupid. Not to mention it’s kind of hard to make a relationship work when you’ve got bounty hunters gunning for your ass. But maybe once things die down…”

  He hefted from the stool and shoved an accusing finger in Cass’s face. “You’re supposed to be the sane and stable Lassiter sister. Don’t go all batshit crazy on me now.”

  Her shoulders fell on a heavy exhale. “Is it so terrible that I want you to be happy, Sam?”

  “I am. For Devil’s sake, my seal is broken, and I’m finally free of Pricilla and all those asshole council members.” He tossed his arms up. “I’m so fucking happy right now, I can’t stand myself. What more do you want?”


  “We both know that doesn’t change the past. The things you were ordered to do to serve Antoinette…it affected you. Changed you.”

  Remnants of memories threatened to barge into his brain, and he fought them back. He’d given Nettie forty-eight years of his life. The bitch deserved no more time in his head. “It was my job.”

  “But—”

  He gave Cass a hard look, silently conveying that the subject was closed. Huffing out a breath, she transferred her scowl to her laptop. He used the opportunity to return to the coffeepot and refill his mug. A phone rang—not his—and he glanced over his shoulder just as Cass lifted her cell to her ear.

  “Nik, if you’re calling to ask if pizza goes with donuts, the answer is no.”

  Relieved to have Cass momentarily distracted, he started to walk toward the living room. A sharp inhalation behind him halted him mid-step. He shot another look toward his cousin and noticed her staring at him, her cheeks unnaturally pale.

  “Who is this? Where is my sister?”

  Dread cemented inside his stomach. Even without the benefit of the other end of the conversation, he knew where this was headed. His suspicions became confirmed when Cass gulped and tightened her grip on the cell phone. Her gaze remained riveted on him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sam barely communicates with any of us.” Conviction laced her tone, but a distinct tremor ran through her arm. “So help me, if you’ve hurt my sister…”

  Sam crossed the room and plucked the cell from her trembling fingers. “I’ve got a bullet with your name on it if you harm one hair on her head,” he offered to the faceless person on the other side of the line in a deadly calm voice.

  “Really, Samael. Your rude manner of speaking to me is getting out of hand.” Pricilla’s chilly anger leached through the phone. It was a damn miracle the device didn’t turn to a block of ice. “I’ve been calling you for the past day and a half.”

  “My line’s been disconnected. Guess that’s what I get for not paying the bill.”