Chapter 4 Gracie
Suggested Listening: Rave in My Garage by Little Sis Nora
“ B rownies really do make everything better,” Poppy says from her nest in the huge papasan chair in the corner of our living room. It was one of the first items we purchased after moving in together, but we all know it’s really hers.
I’m admiring the popcorn ceiling, which means the brownies were really good. I hate that popcorn ceiling texture. I swear every time I try to coax the house into getting rid of it, the texture just increases so now it looks like we have a mushroom ceiling. I guess we all have our chosen style, even if it’s bad.
“Brownies are amazing,” I mutter. Then, because apparently my thoughts are happening in my mouth, I say, “What do you think Puck is doing right now?”
Briella and Poppy groan in unison.
“Don’t answer that,” I say quickly. “I do miss him…”
The silence is charged with thoughts and emotions, but none of us speak.
A loud thump startles me and I sit up to find Briella has rolled off the sofa and is on her hands and knees, fiery hair thrown over her face.
“I know you’re mad at him. And he really doesn’t deserve you after ghosting you like that.” She sits back on her heels and flings her hair over her shoulder, scowling at me. “But I hope you’ll give him the chance to explain where the hell he’s been. I’ve always been Team Puck, but what he did is really messed up. Especially when Ezra is right there!”
I frown at her, not following her line of reasoning at all. “What does Ezra have to do with any of this?”
Puck and Ezra never got along, which confused me. They’ve always seemed like the kind of guys that would be friends. Besides, Ezra was turned into a pseudo-vampire against his will. It’s not like he asked for it. He’s a victim of our world. And Puck, of all people, should be empathetic about that. His powers put him squarely in the dark court because of how dangerous they are, but he’s not out here mass killing people and bathing in their blood. We all gave him the opportunity to prove who he was to us instead of being scared of him based on the court’s reputation alone. Why can’t he give Ezra that same courtesy?
“Bri!” Poppy shrieks and sits up.
“What!” Briella shrieks right back.
The two of them stare at each other, eyebrows moving around like they’re some sort of aircraft marshals doing intricate signals with flags. Except it’s hair on their faces. Yeah. I think I’ve lost the plot here.
“Clearly you two are not in the sofa,” I grumble. “Someone pack a bowl. My emotions feel too much.”
Poppy and Briella both look at me, their faces crumpling.
I hate that look. I hate being weak. I hate that I can’t just fix this.
When I first found out I was a witch, I thought magic could do everything. I’d use it to find my mother. To deal with the awful cramps I’ve had since puberty kicked me in the teeth in the fourth grade. But magic is more complicated than that. And it’s not all-powerful. At least not without a hefty cost.
Briella’s phone begins to clamor and ring some tune I don’t recognize.
“Is that a techno remix of Bootycall?” Poppy asks.
Briella holds up a finger and answers the phone on speaker. “Hey.”
“Briella, hey!”
I grimace and squint. There’s something about the man’s tone that strikes me as skeevy.
“Russ. Hey. Haven’t heard from you in a bit.” Briella looks at Poppy, then me, with a pointed stare.
Shit.
Russ. Am I supposed to know who this is?
I’ve met a lot of witches that are just dicks and dismiss them. I’m not playing by their rules. And I’m not learning their names.
“Yeah, hey, I know last time we talked about this, you said things were booked up pretty solid. But, um… It would really help me out if we could do a quick summons out there. Please, Brie?”
I look at Poppy and gesture at Briella.
Poppy blows out a breath and glances around before grabbing an empty can of soda. Her lips scrunch up and she pretends to pour the drink over her head.
Oh. Oh!
Russ! That asshole? He is who we have to milk money out of?
Because of how insular the witch community is, all witches go to a private academy in the ritzy part of town. I was offered the opportunity to attend when the coven became aware of my power, but chose not to. Mostly due to money. But I also didn’t like the snooty stares. Instead, I went to the big public high school with all the hedge witches. To say they didn’t like me is an understatement. I, however, ignored them. I had much bigger problems going on at the time in the form of my stepmother, Briella’s aunt. We wouldn’t learn for several years that it was all a ploy to gain access to me.
Since we don’t know who my sperm donor is and we aren’t confident of my incubator’s lineage, I should have been classified as a hedge witch. However, my gifts are strong enough there’s no denying that my parents must have been full-blooded witches. Or extremely powerful warlocks.
Gifts are what define witches. Most are handed down through their families and play a large role in what options a person has moving forward in life.
Briella’s family are all reasonably powerful witches with a strong focus on ancient arts. Briella in particular is a gifted finder, a person capable of tracking and finding things. While it doesn’t sound like an exciting gift, it’s rare. And even rarer for her to be as powerful as she is.
Poppy comes from a long line of herbalists. Her gift still hasn’t defined itself, which is odd. But it will be in the realm of growing things. It’s her passion.
My gift is much more rare. While any witch can write a new spell, I have a knack for spellcraft. It’s like the formulas and words come to me. Honestly, when I was tested, and they told me what my gift was, I thought there was something special about me. But the only thing the coven wants from me is a baby. They don’t care about my dreams or passion.
Looking back, they likely wanted to set me up to pop out babies for them from the very start. Accepting me as a witch merely provided them with a means to control me for the next ten years of my life.
I haven’t been unaware of their control. I overestimated my freedom. But we’re fixing all of that. And the first step is paying off the loan to the coven.
About the only immediate solution for cash is renting out summoning space under the table.
Summoning is an art that’s easy to get out of control very quickly. Typically, the spirits or creatures being summoned are scared, angry, or confused. Which doesn’t make for a great first introduction. Around the time that digital cameras came on the market, major leaders from the paranormal community got together and agreed on certain things. One aspect witches promised was to police summons. Photography was at a point that monsters couldn’t be explained away by claiming something smudged the lens or whatever. Summons are only supposed to happen on sanctioned ground with a security staff in place to handle anything that might exceed the ability of the summoner to control.
There have been instances where the coven has leased out or approved summons on our property, but it was rare. And involved a lot of witches I didn’t like walking all over my property.
We really don’t want to allow people to summon on the property. It opens us up to some bad energy depending on what people use the space for, and bad energy migraines are the worst . Not to mention we could get in trouble with multiple authorities. But at the end of the day, I’m not a fan of people telling me what I can and can’t do in my own home. Especially when those governing bodies are abusing their power.
“I don’t know, Russ. We’re really swamped and all I want to do is wash my hair.” Briella is putting on a show, really dragging her feet.
“Briella, please ? What if I paid double? Could you squeeze me in then?”
She gestures at the phone, eyes wide.
It’s exactly what we wanted to happen. But now that I’ve connected the dots, I feel really gross about this. But I shrug, because what else can I do or say? Is my dislike of the guy worth losing out on five hundred that would go a long way to covering the mortgage this month? I can’t make that call. Besides, I have more history with Russ than them. We were both public school magi-kids. But unlike him, when the coven tested my blood, it showed me as a witch. Not a half-blood warlock. And that’s when things with Russ got to be a pain. He just doesn’t get how subjective that test is.
The rumor is that Russ’ witch mom had an affair with a shifter. And that’s why Russ didn’t test as a full-blooded witch despite his family legacy.
He’s that stereotypical guy that thinks everything should be handed to him on a silver platter. And that’s where we clashed. Big time.
Witches and warlocks are expected to always show up for high holy days. It’s the coven’s way of twisting people’s arms into lending their power to the great rites. This one Saturday, all the teenage witches and warlocks were expected to help clean up the space where we’d have the ceremony that night. I can’t remember exactly what happened. It was stupid. But I said something and pissed Russ off to the point he walked up behind me and poured a can of soda all over me. Russ was ready for me to throw some magical attack at him. He was not ready for my knee to his balls. What can I say? Dad didn’t know magic, but he made sure I could defend myself.
It makes sense Russ would approach Briella or Poppy and not me, given our history.
“Give me a minute, Russ.” Briella sighs into the phone. “I just don’t know.”
She hits the mute button while Russ is still talking. “Please, Briella. Come on! Help a guy out.”
“What is he even capable of summoning?” I whisper at the other two. My thoughts are sluggish thanks to that brownie.
“It’s probably not him doing the summoning,” Poppy says from her spot next to the coffee table where she’s cleaning out a glass pipe. “He’s got this weird group of magi-dudes. I think they’re all warlocks, but there might be a watered down witch or two in the mix. He can’t summon anything himself, so he’ll have help.”
I rub my palms over my face. “Does that make it better or worse? I can’t tell.”
“It means we’ll get paid,” Briella says.
“Sold,” I blurt out.
I’m at my maximum for shit I can deal with. Whatever Russ summons is his responsibility. He knows the score. We’ll claim we didn’t know. We were too high and unaware of him entering the basement. Whatever works to get us out of trouble.
“What space are we going to let them use?” Poppy asks, then passes me the pipe. “Is that clean enough?”
I briefly inspect the glass tool. “Yup. And… The cellar? This way, we can keep a close eye on them.”
“I agree.” Briella blows out a breath. “I’m going to want that bowl when I’m done with this. Russ makes my head hurt.”
“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
“You do that.” Poppy jumps up, then holds her arms out as she gains her center of balance. “I’ll go check over the cellar.”
Briella wanders into the next room, finalizing plans with Russ. Goddess, I’m not even sure when the last time I saw him was. Graduation, maybe? There were a few scuffles between us after the soda incident, but he quickly learned I’m not the bitch you mess with.
This will be fine. Russ is an idiot. There’s no denying that. But he’s harmless. The others can handle this and tomorrow we’ll be five hundred dollars closer to our goal.
My plans for the rest of the evening are to smoke this bowl and go to bed early without ever having seen Russ. Yeah. That sounds like the best thing I can do.
I ’ve been watching Charlie the Unicorn for at least half an hour in my room after sharing the bowl with Poppy and Briella when my phone’s alarm startles me so much I almost pee myself. After duck-walking to the bathroom and dismissing the alarm, I realize it’s fucking Tuesday .
Ezra will be by soon. Like, any minute soon . The damn vamp is always early. And this week I didn’t brew the potion ahead of time.
“Shit. Shit. Shit!” I chant as I dash out of my bedroom.
Poppy and Briella are half-heartedly bundling sage at the kitchen table. It’s the one item that sells out in the shop that’s surprised us.
“Did you forget Ezra’s potion?” Briella asks.
“Yes!”
“I told you she needed a reminder,” Poppy mutters.
Briella throws her hands up, groaning in frustration, and accidentally flings the half-formed bundle she’s working on across the table at Poppy. A single stick of dried sage sticks to Poppy’s neon pink and green hair. She sputters, laughs, and plucks it from her hair to flick back at Briella. Which leads to both of them snickering and giggling.
I stand in the middle of the kitchen, hands out, and ask myself, why the fuck am I in the kitchen?
It’s a really good reason. I just had it in my head.
“Bri?” I call out.
“Ezra,” she says.
“Oh, fuck. The potion! ” I blurt out.
Poppy throws her head back, howling in laughter. “Did you already forget?”
“Shut up,” I snap. “Quick, where’d I leave my grimoire?”
For whatever reason, that sends the two chuckle heads into more fits of laughter. I can’t help but laugh at them, even while my insides stress and knot over the idea that Ezra might have to wait for his potion.
Another witch would charge him for the potion and work I’ve done, but the way I look at it, I’m just helping a victim. Ezra didn’t want to be a vampire’s slave. He didn’t ask for any of this. I’m just ensuring he gets to live the life he wants.
“Did Russ get set up?” I ask them.
“Yup. Real charmer, that one,” Poppy drawls while wrinkling her nose.
Briella reaches into her bra and pulls out a wad of cash. “He paid up front.”
“Oh, fuck yes. Can you—”
“Deposit it first thing in the morning? Yup.”
“Goddess bless you.”
I spy the small cauldron perched on the set of shelves next to the kitchen counter. Exactly where it’s supposed to be. I lift it off and set it on the counter.
Past-me is the best. She thinks of everything. That bitch rocks. I take back the wish to twat punch her.
I breathe a sigh of relief and begin pulling out the vials and sachets of ingredients I must have collected into the cauldron last week. Did I pull a card that made me think this week would be stressful? Or did I simply have the presence of mind to realize things were coming due soon?
Briella and Poppy have a much more traditional witch education compared to me. They have systems and rituals for every step of every process. And I do not. I’m much more the type of witch that throws it all in a pot and sees what happens. My chaotic approach to spellcraft leaves the two of them in fits, but it works for me. I also suspect that a lot of my success where others fail is because I don’t always know what shouldn’t work. It’s hard to follow rules you don’t know. And without those limitations, there are no bounds to what I can try and do.
A brisk knock at the front door has me in a full-blown panic. I hate for my employees to see me falling apart and I am far from my best right now. It’s somehow worse that it’s Ezra. He already sees me at my lowest. Can’t I have it all together this one time at least?
The front door swings open before any of us make a move. The house has always seemed to like him.
“Hello?” Ezra calls out.
Poppy’s delicate plant display blocks the line of sight from the front door. I’m not a fan, but I don’t have the heart to tell her.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
Ezra steps around the plant shelves. He’s showered and changed into a threadbare black T-shirt and basketball shorts with sneakers. His hair is still damp from his post-work shower. He might be our store manager, but he’s not a smoker. At least not before meeting us. Given a choice, he’ll take an edible over anything else.
“Hey, vamp boy.” Poppy pulls out one of the chairs at the table. “Gracie is making you a fresh potion right now.”
He looks from her to me. “If it’s too much trouble—”
“No!” I quickly turn on the burner and begin organizing the ingredients. “We have no idea what will happen if you miss a dose. I’m so sorry . This week—it’ll be just a minute, okay?”
Ezra comes to stand at the end of the counter where he won’t be in my way, but where I can’t ignore him either. “You don’t need to apologize. Can I… Can I help? Or do something?”
“No. No, just have a seat.”
He groans. “Gracie…”
It’s one thing for the girls to see me fall apart, but I don’t want Ezra to see me like this. Especially today. I’ve already asked Ezra to step in with Puck. I can’t ask him to do any more for me. And I owe him the potion. “It won’t be long. You’ll be on your way soon, I promise.”
“Let’s get the elephant out of the way.” Poppy stands and stretches. “Did the pointy-eared asshole give you any problems?”
I wince, but keep my eyes on the cauldron.
“No, uh, he left. No problems,” Ezra says.
I grab the spatula I use for this potion and tap it on the small cauldron. “Well, now that that’s over, hopefully we don’t see him again. I can’t imagine why he bothered coming around after all this time.”
Poppy shoves a bundle of clippings into the compost bin with a little too much force. “He probably wanted to talk to you. Explain where he’s been.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
She whirls on me with a frown. “Gracie, the guy was obsessed with you. Remember when Bri and I were scared of him there for a few weeks?”
Briella slaps the table top and laughs. “He was pouting! That’s the scariest pouting face I’ve ever seen .”
I sigh, knowing exactly what they’re talking about. “But did he ever do anything? Say anything? Was it just his face?”
Now Poppy shifts a bit and her brow furrows. “That’s not my point. What is my point? Brie? You’re no help. I’ve totally forgotten my point. Puck’s face…”
I sigh and stare into the cauldron while trying to hold on to my thoughts that feel like greased piglets. I can totally do this. “This isn’t worth any of our time. Puck won’t be back. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about him sooner. I didn’t realize you didn’t like him that much.”
Poppy cuts through the kitchen and wraps her arms around me. “I like him. Maybe not in the beginning. But I came around. I like how he took care of you. I know he’s been an asshole. Vanishing like that isn’t cool. But don’t you think there has to be a reason? Unless he is just an asshole. In that case, he can get fucked with a rusty hoe.”
“Oh, no. Not the rusty hoe,” I snicker.
Ezra chuckles and I glance at where he’s drug a stool over to sit at the side of the stove with his elbows on his knees. He really is a handsome guy. Women fall all over themselves to jiggle their tits at him. But I guess he’s just not ready to take that step yet. And I can’t blame him.
“Do you…” He frowns suddenly and lifts his hand to his mouth. “Do you guys smell that? Is that… Blood?”
I glance down at my hands. Wouldn’t be the first time I cut myself, but I don’t even have a knife this time.
Poppy snorts at me and slaps my hip before wandering over to peer into the garbage. “Nothing in here.”
A loud thump makes us all start. I even feel the vibrations of the impact on my feet. And it isn’t a sentient house moving kind of thump. There’s a distinct difference. Those are lighter sounding. Like nails drumming on a table. This was like heavy footsteps.
“Uh, what the fuck was that?” I ask.
Briella gets up from the table, clutching her scissors. “The vamp smells blood and we hear a thump from the cellar. Poppy?”
I glance between my two best friends. “What’s going on?”
Poppy takes a deep breath then begins speaking in a rush, as if she’s worried she won’t get it all out in time. “Russ brought friends with him to do the summoning and they had a really weird looking bundle. Like, human shaped bundle. But Briella and I decided it had to just be tools, right? Russ wouldn’t do something… He wouldn’t do anything… Stupid. Would he?” She places her hand on her brow. “I did see loveroot.”
My brows shoot up and I slap at the knob on the stove, turning it off. I can only handle one thing at a time right now. Ezra’s potion is going to have to wait. “Loveroot?”
Just mentioning that particular ingredient triggers bad memories for Briella and I.
Briella takes a big step toward the locked door leading down to the cellar. “Oh, hell no.”
“Wait!” I screech. Thankfully, Ezra is faster than any of us and plants himself in front of the cellar door while I fling my hands out. “Bri, just wait.”
She whirls on me, still clutching the scissors with smoke practically coming out of her ears. “Wait? How long should we wait?”
I hold up my hands. “There are three of us, and how many of them?”
“I’m here, too,” Ezra mutters.
Briella’s face is getting redder by the moment. “Gracie. Gracie— you know .”
“I know. I do know.” I slowly approach her, hands up.
Her aunt used a loveroot potion on Dad for years to keep him complacent in their relationship.
One of the coven leaders attempted to slip me a love potion after I turned twenty-five, but my general distrust saved me. Neither Briella nor Poppy believed my suspicions until the next birthday.
Briella wasn’t so lucky. Or maybe her family was just prepared. I’ll never forget Poppy and I sitting here waiting with cupcakes while a growing sense of dread sunk in. By the time we found Briella, they’d already begun a fertility ceremony for her and her new husband. I was able to break the spell, but it left her devastated. Her own mother gave her the potion in an effort to control her and their line. It’s a terrible breach of trust that should have never happened.
There’s still the little matter of her legal husband to deal with, but the guy hasn’t shown up since the ceremony. We still don’t know if he was coerced or in on it. It’s a problem for later. Just like Ezra’s potion.
“If there’s blood, Ezra can’t go downstairs. The three of us are high as fuck. Running downstairs with no plan is stupid.” I look at each of them and see agreement on all but Ezra. “Now—”
The cellar door suddenly unlocks and is thrown open so hard, Ezra staggers out of the way. It would seem that even the house knows something very bad is happening. For all I know, that thump was the house sounding the first alarm, anyway.
I can smell the blood now. Blood and wax and herbs. It’s this acrid, awful scent.
No.
Oh, no.
“Shit. Ezra, cover your nose!” I shout.
I grab the butcher knife off the block and a bottle of all-purpose cleaner before rushing to the door. The lights flicker on and my bare feet pound on the stairs. There’s another door at the bottom, but that’s thrown open for me by the house. I step into the cellar and stare at the chaos.
Russ, or someone in his group, has drawn a massive salt circle, and within that circle is a pentacle and other sigils that binds a truly massive demon. The largest I’ve ever seen. The ceiling down here is about ten feet high and the creature almost has to hunch to fit. The demon has two large, curved horns on either side of his head like a bull that are tipped with fire somehow.
The demon is naked.
Extremely muscular.
And aroused.
Holy shit, that’s a big dick.
I blink a few times and finally tear my gaze from the demon’s erection to Russ. That asshole is getting to his feet just outside the pentacle’s barrier with a bloody knife in hand.
“What the hell, Gracie?” Russ shouts, his face flushing red.
“Holy fucking shit,” Briella shrieks. That’s when I realize the others have come down the stairs after me.
Briella whirls to face the wall with wide eyes while Poppy’s face drains of color and she continues to stare.
There are four other men lying in dazed, groaning heaps along the wall. But it’s the young woman laid out on a carpet I don’t recognize that alarms me.
“What have you done, Russ?” I demand.
“Get out!” Russ yells.
“Get out of my own house?” I stop and stare at Russ, wishing he’d fall dead on the spot.
He’s always been one of those guys who thinks they deserve everything. It was annoying when we were kids, but clearly he’s grown into an even more insufferable man. Every time I hear about him, it’s because he’s got some new get-rich-quick scheme. And now that I think about it, I think I recognize that poor girl.
“I paid, so fuck off!” Russ shouts.
I swear my vision goes red. If I could kill him, I would. But we have enough trouble already without creating more. Still, it feels good to summon my magic, rip a few strands of hair from the nape of my neck, and mutter the words to the defensive spell. My offering of hair goes up in a quick plume of smoke. In the next moment, Russ goes flying back through the air.
Shit.
Did I over-do it?
Poppy smacks my elbow. “Dude!”
Russ bounces off the wooden stairs and up through the doors that were left open.
“What?”
She groans and shakes her head. “You cast a spell into a summoning circle!”
“Oh.” I blink at the circle, then the open door. “Shit. You’re right… Did I… Did I kill him?”
The demon crosses his arms over his chest. “No, but would it have been such a bad thing?”
“Uh…” It’s so difficult to keep my eyes up . That is the longest, thickest dick I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to go with killing people is bad, okay?”
The demon sighs. “Fine. I see your point. But so are love spells. They never work how you humans want them to work. And honestly, if you want to entrap a human with romance, wouldn’t he be better off summoning a creature with dominion over love? This isn’t really my thing, you know?”
“A demon that makes a logical point.” I blink first at Briella, then Poppy. “I need to be done with today. Alright…”
Ezra appears at my side and gestures at the other prone male forms. “Is it safe for me to grab the other ones?”
“No. Hold on.” I kneel and quickly thank the elements before spritzing the salt with the all-purpose spray and breaking the circle. “Okay.”
Ezra darts past and collects four fully grown men over his shoulders like he’s hauling bags of potting soil or potatoes. I knew the vampire thrall state made Ezra more powerful, but I didn’t know he was that strong. I stare at the doorway and blink a few times, processing the last few moments.
That was kind of sexy.
Briella cups her hands around her eyes. “Can someone throw a towel at him, please?”
The demon plants his hands on his hips and grins, not the least bit concerned about his super large dick. “Sorry, dear, caught me at a bad time, I’m afraid.”
“Here.” Poppy thrusts a throw blanket into my hands and gives me a meaningful look.
She doesn’t do demons. Bad family history. So between that and Briella’s prudish hang-ups, I guess it’s going to fall on me to handle the dick-gifted demon.
“Are the three of you in uniform or something? Those are lovely outfits,” he says.
I glance down at my witchy lounging outfit then back up. “Nope. These are pajamas. Girl’s night thing.”
Demons tend to scale up in size with their strength or power. It’s different depending on the type of demon. A seven-foot demon is going to be somewhere at the top of the pyramid of power. Contrary to what most people believe, demons have nothing to do with Christianity. They were their own people with their own world long before humans discovered how to summon them. And like people, demons can be good, bad, and everything in between. But I’m leery of a powerful demon. The most common way to increase their power is by killing or consuming other demons. That’s kind of sketchy in my eyes.
I push back my shoulders and walk across the cellar floor.
Testicles look weird no matter the race. Like half-shriveled grapes. Or in his case, apples.
I stop on the other side of the barrier and eye the sigils. Talk about some shitty work.
“Here. Please, cover up?” I flick the end of the blanket so it crosses the threshold.
Our demon guest takes it and wraps the purple fuzzy material around his hips. Not that it really hides much. In fact, I think it makes the erection stand out more now that he’s actively making a tent with it. I drag my hand over my face and groan. His skin is a deep red color, but the grooves between his muscles seem black. It’s almost like he was dipped in red paint, dried, then dipped in black and most of it wiped away. It makes for a striking color combination. Other than the horns he’s got a thick head of flaming hair, a generous mouth that seems to curve into a smile easily enough, pierced nipples, three hoops in his bellybutton, and a pointed tail.
Once my brain accepts his presence I can’t help but think he’s actually pretty cute. It’s the smile. I’m a sucker for mischievous smiles.
Poppy wastes no time spelling the unconscious girl, so she floats after her up the stairs with Briella bringing up the rear. I’m not quite uneasy being left alone with the demon, but I’d feel better if one of them stayed.
“You could break out of this circle anytime you wanted, couldn’t you?” I ask.
“Yes,” the demon replies.
“Do you have a name you’d prefer me to use? I don’t like calling you demon .”
His sensual lips widen into a grin. “You can call me whatever you want, sweet witch.”
“Bob it is then. Hi, Bob, I’m Gracie.”
“Bob?” He folds forward laughing. “Bob! No, sweetness, you can call me Vyslan. Or Vys if your mouth’s full.”
It’s like my body wakes up all at once. Warmth unfurls in my chest and things begin to tingle. I scoot my feet closer together and take a deep breath. “Vyslan, what did they want you to do exactly? Do you know?”
“Oh, yeah. That yappy one? The one you threw through the door?”
“Russ. Yes.”
“Yeah, that girl there just came into a lot of money. Family died. Poor girl. That yappy little fucker wanted to make her fall in love with him. Him and the rest of his yappy little friends wanted to use her money.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck. It’s been six months since cannabis made me horny. Now is not the time to get a lady boner over the naked demon and Ezra going all strong vamp. I used to love sex after my gummy kicked in. It just felt so much more intense, not to mention how much wetter everything felt. As nice as it is to feel a little normal, now is not a convenient time to get turned on. “Vyslan, what kind of a demon are you?”
“Incubus.”
I grit my teeth and nod slowly as the pieces click into place. “Alright, how about we send you home?”
“About that,” Vyslan says slowly. “I’m going to have to refuse.”
I blink at him. “I’m sorry. Come again?”
“Coming is the problem.”
“Sorry…” I am far too high for this conversation. “What?”
He gestures at himself, furry blanket-skirt-tent and all. “Incubus. You know what a celibate incubus has to deal with?”
“Celibate. Incubus. Is that an oxymoron?”
He rolls his eyes. “A human would think so. No. A celibate incubus experiences periods of extreme sexual need. It’s like starvation.”
“Like… A heat ?”
“Ah, sure. Yes. A heat. That’s a good enough word for it.”
“Well… Don’t you want to go home and… I don’t know. Deal with that?” My voice rises an octave with each word, growing shrill.
I don’t like where this is going.
Vyslan scoffs. “I had everything lined up. I even paid for a professional to see me through. And now you’re going to send me back? Do you know how often humans get the return summoning right?”
“How often?”
“Never! We’re returned wherever and whenever. I’m not being sent back to hell-knows-where with a raging hard-on and no one to fuck. Do you have any idea how painful that is? No, you wouldn’t. You’re not a demon.” He smacks his forehead. “Get it together, Vys.”
Fuck. Here it comes. According to the summoning contract he’s my responsibility until sent back. And I can’t send him back without his permission since an agreement wasn’t struck. Without an agreement, he’ll be hanging out in our cellar wearing a fuzzy blanket and rocking the world’s biggest erection until who knows when. And Poppy is going to freak out the longer he stays here.
I narrow my gaze at him. “I’m not handing that girl to you to fuck however you like.”
Vyslan’s nose scrunches up like I just said something distasteful. “That twiggy little thing? No, thanks. I’m not in the business of destroying vaginas.” His gaze travels down my pajama clad body like I’ve got on something sexy. “My tastes are… Bigger.”
I swallow and take a step back.
This demon has thrown me completely off kilter on a day where I’m already not at my best. That said, I’m emotionally vulnerable, horny, and really want to do something for myself after seeing Puck today.
I suck down a breath.
Am I going to do this?
I speak at the same time someone else says the exact same thing. “I can help you with your heat.”
My head whips around and I stare at Ezra hovering in the doorway leading out of the cellar. Shit. Shit! I guess now I know why Ezra never went for any of the women. Fuck. Fucking hell. Why does this hurt?