Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell #2) - Juliette Cross Page 0,22

put his paws on the cage. I scratched him under the chin.

“I agree with you. Why bother with men at all?”

He tilted his head to the right, one floppy ear tipping up, the other down.

“If I could find a man as cute as you, then I’d be the happiest girl in the world.”

He yipped again and spun in another circle. I chuckled, reaching into my bag to find him one more treat.

Unfortunately, men weren’t as easy to read or as easy to please as Archie. And why was I thinking of men anyway? I’d decided I was perfectly happy without them. Nothing they could do for me I couldn’t do myself.

That reminded me, I needed to find my package.

Chapter 5

~DEVRAJ~

I lifted my foot and picked up the scrap of paper Isadora had dropped from her purse. Was it ungentlemanly to semi-steal a note that wasn’t mine? Yes. But I’d glimpsed my name in a feminine scrawl which suddenly negated all rules of a gentleman.

Once I’d read what was on the paper, I huffed out a disbelieving breath, stuffed it into my pocket then walked into the empty bookstore. I strolled past vintage bookshelves into the lounge area with plush furniture in blue, silver, and black. Dark wood tables topped with Tiffany lamps and votive candles gave the sophisticated but warm ambiance that suited Ruben’s style.

The man himself sat in the wingback next to the blue velvet sofa in the farthest corner, dressed impeccably with a steaming cup of coffee beside him as he scrolled through his phone.

“Morning. Your grim isn’t here yet?”

“Not yet.” He swiped his thumb across the screen and set it aside, flashing a tight smile. “You seem to be in a pleasant mood today. Care to share?”

“Not in the least.” I took a seat on the velvet sofa and stretched an arm along the back, crossing an ankle over my knee and nodded at his phone. “Something up?”

“Not really,” he grumbled, fiddling with a cuff link. “I thought Jules would want to be included in this meeting, seeing as she’s the Enforcer of New Orleans. But she has work.”

“You can just relay it back to her,” I offered matter-of-factly. “Why so twitchy about it?”

He shot me an icy glare, but there was no true heat in it. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about his tumultuous relationship with Jules. That’s what friends do.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “You want some coffee or tea? Barbara’s back in the office and could get you something.”

“I’m good.”

The bookstore door opened and closed.

“There he is now.”

I prepared myself for the dark push of his magic, throwing up my guards. Old vampires could counteract the effects of grim magic with their own.

Grims weren’t witches, even though some called them sorcerers, but their magic was similar to Auras like Isadora’s sister, Clara. But whereas Auras pumped only positive emotions into others, grims did the opposite. It wasn’t always negative emotions, exactly, but darker ones. Primitive, carnal urges that lived in everyone. Grims could pull those emotions to the surface and coerce a person to act on them.

Ruben’s mysterious grim sauntered in, carrying a black messenger bag. His jeans looked a hundred years old. Probably were. He wore a short-sleeve black Nirvana T-shirt with the dead-man smiley face, revealing a full sleeve of tattoos on one arm and a half on the other, his hands inked, too. There was even an unidentifiable tattoo spiking from under the neck of his T-shirt, like prongs wrapping up one side of his throat.

His milk-pale skin and coal-black hair and eyes gave him an otherworldly air even without his grim magic pushing and pulling on me. The intrusion of his magic forced an image in my mind. A flash of blond hair, slim thighs, the hem of her skirt. That skirt hiking higher.

Fuck. I punched up a fortress-thick wall of magic to block it out. I sure as hell didn’t need this guy’s powers steering me down the carnal lane of naked Isadora. I had enough problems resisting those thoughts without his influence.

He gave Ruben a nod as he took a seat next to me, instantly setting down his bag to pull out a laptop.

I offered my hand to shake. “Devraj Kumar.”

He shook my hand politely with a flick of his black eyes, then opened his laptop without a word. The laptop had no branding. Probably a creation of his own. Grims were known to be techy, since computers were the best tools to find