That Old Black Magic - By Michelle Rowen Page 0,22
face. “You know, everyone always assumes all a demon ever cares about is violence and mayhem and the sound of tearing flesh. But, trust me, that’s actually only 95 percent of the time. We do have a few other hobbies, you know.”
The look of horror that crossed Stanley’s face shouldn’t have amused him, but it did anyway. Maybe he was still evil down deep.
It was a comforting thought, actually.
Eden spent the day organizing Andy’s files. It was what she typically did on Thursdays, nice mindless work—mostly deciphering her partner’s lousy handwriting. She went out midafternoon to Hot Stuff to grab a sandwich, which sat heavily in her queasy stomach.
Stomach flu. Definitely.
She had to look on the bright side—she’d removed Darrak’s spell. That was a huge step in the right direction and it made today a wonderful one.
Visit from dead mother and darkening amulet notwithstanding.
Her mother was back. Her dead mother had returned from both the grave and Hell itself to show up on her doorstep. This revelation brought with it conflicting emotions in Eden. On one side she was glad Caroline had survived her trip to Lucas’s domain unscathed. It showed that he did follow through with his promise to release her. On the other hand, the last thing Eden needed right now was a mother set on redemption who wanted to pitch in and help save her daughter from the big bad demon.
She’d deal with Caroline, and of course she’d want to see her again and try to work things out between the two of them. Just not today. Today she needed to deal with the black magic. If only it didn’t come at so heavy a price, she would use it for just about anything. Housework would be a breeze, for instance. And cooking. And getting dressed. She’d be Samantha Stephens and Darrak could be Darrin. A happy couple who made the differences between them work, no matter what.
Happy couple.
Was that possible? Did they really have a future together, despite how many odds were stacked against them?
It sounded like a pipe dream at best to a realist like Eden. There were just too many difficulties for her to just ignore.
Love didn’t fix everything, even if she really, really wished it could.
But still, she couldn’t help but be hopeful.
When it was close to sunset, it was time to shut down the office and go get Darrak and leave before his curse hit and he lost corporeal form. Eden grabbed her coat from the rack near the door and slid it on, grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, then reached into her pocket for her keys. Something else was in the pocket, something small and hard; for a moment she didn’t know what it was until she pulled it out.
A marble.
She looked at it. “I don’t remember putting you in my pocket.”
The marble immediately heated up and she squinted against the bright light it emanated.
“Oh—” she began, but by the time she finished she wasn’t in the Triple-A office anymore—“shit!”
Eden was now standing on a beach.
The marble was a summoning crystal given to her a couple of weeks ago. It always brought her here, to a place that looked exactly like a beautiful tropical beach at sunset, with ocean waves lapping gently against the shore, golden sand, and a warm breeze scented with papaya and lilies.
She’d just been summoned here, to a place that didn’t actually exist in real life.
And she already knew by whom.
Another feeling of queasiness went through her, but this had very little to do with a stomach flu. Turning her head slightly to the right she saw him approach from down the beach. He wore white pants and a white shirt. No shoes. He was smiling.
A shiver raced down her spine.
“Hello Eden,” Lucas said.
She cleared her throat. “What am I doing here?”
“You’re looking well.”
“Thank you. What am I doing here?”
“You think I sent for you?”
That’s exactly what she thought, and it made her nervous. “Did you predict I’d touch the marble just now?”
“I’m afraid I’m not capable of predicting the future, so no. A gift like that would come in handy, though, I have to say.”
“I guess I find it difficult to believe that someone like you doesn’t have that ability.”
He laughed. “Oh? I guess my reputation gives the impression I’m much more powerful than I really am.”
This was one of the biggest problems with Lucas. He was so disarming, so charming, so friendly. Even the way he looked—or chose to look when