The Curse Servant (The Dark Choir Book 2) by J.P. Sloan Read Free Book Online

for you.”
    “I get it,” she mumbled.
    “Good.” I returned to my beans and reached for the cumin. “These running shits kick in immediately, or what? Because I’ll need to make a run for toilet paper.”
    She snickered again.
    I had barely put the cassoulet in the oven when my doorbell rang. It was too early for the game to let out, and the Swains mostly just barged in. It had to be Ches. Checking the clock, I noticed she was a full hour early.
    I brushed Elle off by the couch and went for the door. Ches stood on my stoop in a blue and yellow sundress, her hands behind her back. Most of her hair was pulled back into a charmingly sloppy bun, a few ringlets of light brown spilling over her eyebrow.
    “You found me,” I muttered.
    Ches reached from behind her back and produced a bottle of wine.
    “I don’t even know if you drink wine,” she offered, “but I know I do. So, I figured…”
    “Thank you. Looks great. Come on in.”
    She stepped into my foyer, her eyes taking in my personal space as I took the bottle from her.
    “I’ll, uh, get this chilling.”
    “Oh, I love these old houses. I love the way they smell. Kind of like―oh. Hello.”
    I had just reached the kitchen when I realized what had happened.
    “I didn’t know you had kids, Dorian.”
    I slipped the wine bottle into my fridge and hustled back to the front room. Before I could say anything, Elle rushed across the rug and threw her arms around me.
    “Daddy!”
    “Uh, no.”
    “I love you, Daddy!”
    “They’re not mine,” I yelled over Elle.
    Ches lifted a brow and grinned as Elle crossed her arms.
    “How can you say that?”
    I elbow checked Elle into the couch as I stepped past her. “You are such a brat. Their parents are at the game.”
    Eddie added without looking up from his electronics, “They’re getting drunk.”
    “They’re not getting―well, your mother, maybe.”
    Ches covered her mouth to conceal a chuckle.
    “Welcome to Casa du Lac,” I announced with wide arms.
    “Maison,” she whispered.
    “Hmm?”
    “It’s maison, in French. Casa is Spanish.”
    I nodded and shrugged.
    Elle beamed at Ches with unhealthy interest, so I tried to break her stare.
    “She’s correcting my Esperanto now. You’re seeing this, right?”
    Elle smirked at me and replied, “You’re not my real father.”
    I ushered Ches further into the front room with a quick wave. “As the wine chills, can I offer you anything? I can make a vodka martini, I think, if you don’t mind skipping the vermouth.”
    “That’ll work.”
    I managed to keep an eye on Elle from the sideboard as I dropped a couple ice cubes into straight vodka. Ches leaned against the arm of my chair, looking over the books stacked along the bookcase. I did a quick mental check to be sure I had removed anything specifically occult. Sometimes I forgot what was and wasn’t forbidden knowledge, so it wasn’t a given.
    I gave Ches her drink. It wasn’t much, but the crystal martini glass came from Italy and the vodka was top shelf. The only cheap thing in my house was my hospitality. She took a long sip and closed her eyes for a moment, and I tried not to stare.
    Elle asked, “So, are you his girlfriend or what?”
    Ches’s eyes shot open, and she gulped hard at the vodka. After she cleared her throat, she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m his barista.”
    “What’s a barista?” Eddie asked from the couch across the room.
    Ches leaned forward and replied, “It’s kind of like a secret agent.”
    Eddie’s eyes moved slowly from his device to her.
    Elle huffed, “No. She makes coffee.”
    “Secret agents make coffee?” he whispered.
    My legs buzzed with restlessness, and I nodded to the back of the house. “So, want the nickel tour?”
    She nodded and stood up, cradling her martini between her fingers.
    Elle hopped up as well. “I think you need a chaperone.”
    “I think you need to find something on TV,” I retorted.
    She glowered at me as I offered