Jodi Redford - Getting Familiar with Your Demon

Yet another thing that seemed too good to be true. He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? Care to explain how that works?”

Cass gnawed on the corner of her lip before responding. “What you need is a powerful enough energy spike from her to break through the seal.”

“Okay, I’m with you so far. Still not sure how you think I can go about triggering her energy without making her suspicious.”

“Easy.” Cass offered a reassuring smile that made him feel anything but. “You have sex with her and give her one doozy of a climax.”

He and Nikki simultaneously choked on a cough. He was the first to recover. “Want to pass that one by me again?” Fuck . And here he’d thought somehow sweet-talking a do-gooder witch into breaking his soul-collector seal was impossible. That’d be a cakewalk compared to getting one to spread her legs for him. Although he could sure as shit think of one he’d like to bury his cock inside for an hour or two. He gritted his teeth at the wayward thought. He didn’t like the odd attraction he’d experienced with his little witch. There were already too many things in his life he couldn’t control. Adding another to the list damn well wasn’t gonna happen.

Cass held up her hand, tearing him from his grim musings. “I know what you’re thinking. But I’ve come up with a solution I think will solve part of the issue. Tomorrow’s the big Samhain ball at the Cosgrove mansion, which basically amounts to lots of witches in a relatively confined space. That works in your favor, since all their white energy should help mask your darker juju. You’ll be able to blend in pretty much undetected.”

“Wow, smart thinking, sis,” Nikki said grudgingly.

He hated to admit Nikki had a point, but it was smart. Still, there was a slight hiccup. “Unless I can convince her to sneak into one of the private rooms to do the dirty, sooner or later we’ll have to leave the party.”

Cass gave him an encouraging pat on the arm. “Then I suggest you lay the charm on extra thick.”

A snort shot from Nikki. “Oh man. You are so screwed.” She grinned obnoxiously. “Or not, in this case.”

Sam took one look at the tube of hair gel in Cass’s hand and narrowed his eyes. “That shit isn’t getting anywhere near my head.”

Cass uttered a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. But could you at least wear something classier than jeans and a T-shirt? The idea is for a woman to want to have sex with you.”

“This is as dressy as I get. Take it or leave it.”

Nikki stepped next to her sister. Rubbing her chin, she swept him with an appraising look that made him feel like a side a beef…that was getting an inferior rating. “I still think we should have gotten you a costume so you’d blend in more.”

“I don’t do costumes.”

Cass grunted. “Yeah, we kind of got that impression after you insisted on repeating your stance on it a few thousand times.”

“Good. I’m glad we’ve got that straight.” He hadn’t trusted either of his cousins not to spring some hellaciously embarrassing getup on him, like Zorro or a fucking pirate. Just the thought of all those pansy-ass ruffles was enough to make his balls shrivel.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to hope you pass muster with the ladies.” Cass plopped the tube of gel on the kitchen counter, something that filled him with immense relief. Cousin or not, things could have gotten violent if she’d tried to goop his hair to look like a damn hedgehog or some other bullshit artsy-fartsy style. She pulled a small spiral notebook from her back pocket and tore off the top page, which she promptly handed to him. “This is a checklist I put together for you. It should help you get through tonight easier.”

He glanced at the paper and read the first line. “Make sure to smile and compliment your date once in a while.” He scowled. “She isn’t going to be my date . We’re having sex and hopefully breaking my seal. End of story.”

Cass huffed a peevish breath. “Could you pretend you’re interested in more than just a roll in the hay? Women enjoy being wooed, you know.”

Oh bloody hell. Maybe he should take his chances with Pricilla. He let the possibility sink in for a moment before determining even a week under the bitch’s command would be intolerable. “Fine, I’ll wax poetic about her blinding beauty.”

Both Lassiter sisters gave him equally dubious looks. Their faith in him was heartwarming. He reached for his leather jacket and stuffed Cass’s cheat sheet in one of the pockets. “Can I go now?”

“Hold on.” Cass snatched a plastic bag off the counter and rifled through it. A second later she extracted a small box and tossed it to him. “If all goes well, you’re going to need those.”

He glanced down at the package and growled. “You bought condoms ?” For shit’s sake. Was nothing sacred? The minute he left his house, he was wiping this entire memory from his mind. Stuffing the box in his other pocket, he pivoted and stalked toward the exit.

“Have fun,” Cass and Nikki sang in unison.

The muscle in his jaw ticking out of control, he stepped into the living room. Seeing how he didn’t have an established teleport link to the Cosgrove mansion, he’d have to go old school and drive. Actually, it was one of the few things he was looking forward to tonight. His vintage Pontiac GTO was his pride and joy. He might not get to ride her often—and certainly not lately—but racking up miles with the Orange Bullet was his favorite pastime.

After glancing over his shoulder to ensure Cass and Nikki weren’t snooping on him, he stooped and grabbed his car key from the secret compartment he’d installed on the underside of the end table. He started to straighten as a familiar tingling shot down his spine.

Pricilla’s nasally whine floated inside his head. Gorasola, Gorasola.

Son of a bitch. Why did she have to summon him right now of all times? He tried to tune her out, ignore the implicit command, but there was no fighting it. Giving an anguished growl, he let the invisible conjuring chains band his forearms and ankles and tug him into the dark abyss of teleport space. Air whistled around him, vibrating against his eardrums. A ripple pierced the ink-black void, a shimmer of light folding outward. He was sucked through the gap and hurtled across the floor. Thick carpeting cushioned his fall. The chains dissolved and footsteps approached. He looked up and met Pricilla’s cold, haughty gaze.

Her blood-red lips quirked up at the corners, testimony to how much she enjoyed getting to jerk him around. “Hmm, obviously I’m going to need more practice with this summoning business.”

He wasn’t so stupid to believe that whole knock-and-tumble routine hadn’t been deliberate. Planting one hand on the floor, he hefted onto his knees. Between his new wound courtesy of Jasper’s knife and the six months of torture he was still recovering from, his impromptu acrobatic stunt was just one more battering that left him feeling like a crash test dummy. “What the hell do you want?”

“Really, Samael. You’re going to have to learn to speak to me in a nicer way.”

No, he wouldn’t. If things went according to plan tonight, his days of having to talk to Pricilla at all would be done with. Of course, there was also a good chance she’d call for his death for what he was about to do. Frankly, he didn’t give a shit. He’d rather be dead than be her damn errand boy.

Pricilla moved away from him, and he used the opportunity to struggle to his feet. Pain splintered through his ribs, and he sucked in a sharp breath, unwilling to grant Pricilla the pleasure of hearing the sound.