Getting Familiar with Your Demon: That Old Black Magic, Book 4 by Jodi Redford Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    She picked up a brass letter opener and used it to slash through the flap of an envelope. “I’m leaving in the morning for the council’s semiannual retreat. I’ll only be gone for the weekend.”
    “Pity.”
    Her lips tightened. “I have an important mission for you to carry out while I’m gone. Tomorrow night I want you to travel to sector nine of the Death Wards and bring me back one of its resident souls.”
    The request was so unexpected it took him a moment to register it. Once he did, he narrowed his eyes and stared at her profile. “Sector nine is high