Black Spells & Twisted Souls Read online

  “What the hell do you think you're doing?” I finally ask when I get a hold of myself, as he’s directing me to the tills. He ignores my question as he hands over the lingerie and sex toy to the woman standing behind the counter. The brown-haired human eyes him, and then me a little jealously, and I could laugh at the ridiculousness of it. As if he’d be here with me.

  He scans his card while I stand there awkwardly, watching her bag the items before she hands them over to me. “Seriously, what are you doing?” I ask again, as we step away from the tills. Fae are known for their open sexuality and their lack of boundaries, but this is surely ridiculous even for a fae. Even one as sexy as him.

  He leans down and whispers his answer to me, “I’ve never been in this intimate a situation with a beautiful woman and not given her an orgasm. This will have to do.”

  I stand in the entrance to the shop, completely stunned as he just walks away. No requests or expectations. I don't even know his name. I wonder why he was in a sex shop alone, before quickly squashing that train of thought. I’d rather not know. I just enjoy the weird moment for what it was. A hot guy totally flirted with me, and it wasn’t because he suspected me of a murder he’s investigating. I’m calling it a win. Even if it was the overly forward fae version of flirtation.

  Rolling my eyes at the lack of subtlety the fae possess, I focus again on the world around me, trying to figure out the quickest way home. It's then that I spot the detective watching me from across the road. With the bag from the shop almost burning my hand where I carry it, I walk away as quickly as I can. I can feel the detective's eyes on me the whole way home.

  Seven

  Demons, Detectives, & Kittens

  As I walk through the dining room, I drop my leather tote and my shopping bag onto the glass table before heading into the kitchen in search of wine. If I’m going to summon a demon with a freaking black-witch vampire detective right outside, I’m damn well not going to do it sober.

  Reaching up to one of the higher cabinets, I have to stretch as far as I can on my tiptoes in order to grip the bottom of the wine glass. I set it on the countertop gently and cross the kitchen to pull open the fridge, eyeing the half-drunk bottle of cheap wine I'd declared too disgusting to finish only days before. It will have to do.

  I snag the bottle and turn around, screaming as I spot the demon sitting casually on the central counter of my kitchen. I drop the bottle and it hits the ground with a crash. Quickly, I pull an undrawn protection circle around me. Not that it would do a lot of good against a demon. Particularly a demon I'd been nervous to summon with all the correct summoning and trapping circles set around it. And now here it is, standing completely uncaged in my home.

  “How are you here without being summoned?” I question, trying not to let my terror show. This is all Lizzy's fault. She told me to use my grandma's grimoire, and now I'm totally about to be demon dinner.

  “Did you have to scream so loudly?” he asks calmly, before snagging a piece of fruit from the bowl beside him. He very slowly takes a large bite out of the green apple. I frown. That was the last damn green apple.

  “What is a person supposed to do when there's a demon running loose in their kitchen?”

  “Offer it tea? Calmly ask why it's here? Be thankful that since your business isn't complete it can't snap your pretty neck?” he drawls. He taps his fingers on the side of the apple before taking another bite, taking his time as he crunches it. I swallow.

  “Why isn't our business complete?” I ask, feeling a little bewildered.

  “Well, you see, I went to complete my task, and I found that it was impossible for me to do so. Sweetheart, I hate to tell you, but your boss is a little bit dead,” he says, not seeming the least bit concerned over his death.

  “So, you didn't kill him?” I ask, a little apprehensive about his response.

  “Obviously not, as that would have breached our agreement. I'm a demon of my word,” he scoffs.

  “If you didn't kill him, then who did?” I mumble, more to myself than to him.

  “I'd quite like to find that out myself, so I can strangle them for getting me into this little predicament,” the demon says, jumping off the counter and crossing the room to where I stand in my circle. He taps the edge of the circle, and I cringe as it wobbles under his soft touch. I've never been particularly gifted. A decent enough witch to pass all my basics, but nowhere near strong enough to face off against a demon. “This isn't necessary, you know. I cannot harm you until my debt to you is fulfilled,” he says, tapping the circle again.

  “So, just give me my necklace back. Then you can go on your way and we never have to see each other again.” The solution I suggest makes a lot of sense in my opinion, but the demon only smiles. The kind of smile that makes you shiver with a chill, like someone just stepped over your grave.

  “That's not going to be possible. You'll have to think of another favour to ask of me.” His black eyes flicker over my face, as if trying to read my reaction. I notice he's dressed in the exact same trousers he'd been wearing the other day, and he's still sans a shirt. I try not gawk at all the bare skin on display. Checking out a demon was beyond questionable, even if I know that I'm only eyeing up his tattoos.

  “There's nothing I want from you,” I answer truthfully, and his eyes narrow, an irritated expression taking over his face.

  “There must be something. You witches always want something. Just like your pesky human cousins. So demanding, and with so little to give in return.”

  “I want nothing from you, so just leave!” I snap, and I can hear his teeth grinding. I cringe from the sound.

  “I can't leave,” he growls, and I can see how much it pisses him off to admit it.

  “What do you mean you can't leave?” I ask him incredulously. The demon can't just stay here! My mum is coming over on Saturday. She cannot come into my house and find a demon here or I'm beyond dead. She'd kill me and resurrect me, just to kill me all over again.

  “I owe you a debt, and I cannot leave until it's paid. It's the law,” he says, the distaste in his voice is so thick I can practically feel the hate snaking across my skin.

  “You've got to be kidding! You can't just stay here!” I screech.

  “You think I am happy about this?” he questions me in a sarcastic tone.

  “Well obviously not!” I shout, getting seriously annoyed. I'm so angry I'm not even as scared as I know I should be. Today has been too long and too messed up already. This is just the insanity cherry on the freaking crazy cake. “Can I just ask you for something mundane? Just to get rid of you? Like, clean up the mess from the dropped wine?” I question, wondering if a such simple solution could solve our problem.

  “It's not that easy, little witch. The favour must be deemed by both parties to be equal to, or greater than, the favour that was unable to be completed. And we can’t lie, unfortunately. We both know a little home clean up means nothing close to removing a tormenter from your life,” the demon explains coldly. He still looks pissed, but at least he seems to realise that I’m willing to do just about anything to get him out of my damn kitchen right now.

  How is this my life? A demon that can't leave my side? I doubt this could possibly get any worse if I tried to mess it up myself!

  A loud knock at the door has me practically jumping out of my skin. I stand silently, staring in the direction of my front door. The walls between here and there block my view, but I look that way nonetheless. Another knock, and the doorbell rings too this time.

  “Miss Harlow… Kayla?” The detective’s voice comes from where he’s pounding his fist heavily against the door outside. “Are you okay in there? I heard shouting.”

  I look between the demon and the front door, knowing exactly what conclusion the detective would come to if he found a demon chilling out in my home, eating my fruit like it drops by all the time. I sigh, then cover my face with my hands as I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves before dropping my circle. I send a s
ilent prayer to the goddess that he was being truthful about not attacking me, or I’ve just doomed myself.

  “You can’t leave, can you?” I ask the demon, wanting to be sure. He shakes his head. Before he can object or say anything, I raise my hands in his direction and channel my magic as I speak the words I’ve used only once, “Convertens cattus.”

  I watch as the spell hits the demon and it doubles over, collapsing onto all fours. Slowly, it reduces in size, and black fur begins to sprout all over the demon’s body. I look away as his face transforms, that part of the transformation really freaking me out. I turn back after a few moments, looking down at a very pissed off demon cat. I smile, happy that the spell worked on a demon.

  I’d only used it once before, when I was just thirteen. I turned a mean girl I’d gone to school with into a cat after I’d seen her kick one in the street by our school. I’d thought it poetic justice. My mum, however, had called it recklessly irresponsible. It might have been the whole using magic on a human thing she was pissed about, though. She’d wiped the girl’s memory after changing her back, and we’d never gotten caught for it, but she still brings it up with me every time I mess up.

  “Good kitty,” I tell the demon as I head towards the front door. I notice him tapping his tail heavily against the tiled kitchen floor as I pass by. The demon cat is pissed, that’s for sure. But, at least hopefully, the detective will only see a furry little witch’s familiar and not a deadly demon.

  Taking a deep breath, I force a fake smile onto my face and open the door. Detective Huxley stands there looking at me with a blank expression on his face, unreadable and completely frustrating. I feel something slither across the bottoms of my legs and jump, screeching as I look down. The demon cat just rubbed up against my legs. I glare down at it before realising it’s doing exactly what I need it to do. It’s pretending to be an actual cat!

  “New pet?” Detective Huxley asks in a light tone, but his eyes are oddly suspicious. Or maybe I’m just paranoid because I’m harbouring a demon. Both are equally plausible.

  “Why would you think he’s new?” I question back quickly.

  “Because anyone with a cat would be used to that,” he says with a small smile.

  “Cat owner, huh?” I ask him.

  “I have one. I didn’t really want her, but she showed up one day. I made the mistake of feeding her and she never left.” He makes a move as if to walk through the door and I step into his path.

  “I didn’t invite you inside,” I say bluntly, not amused by his unwelcome intrusion.

  “I just want to make sure nobody is holding you prisoner. I did hear screaming, and you’re acting oddly,” he replies. The first part is said somewhat humorously, but his eyes narrow at the end. He definitely thinks something is up.

  “How do you know this isn’t how I always act,” I retort, internally cringing as I realise I basically just told him that I’m weird as hell. To my surprise, he chuckles.

  “Fair enough, Miss Harlow, or do you prefer Kayla? You never did say earlier.”

  “I’d prefer it if you’d leave. Unless you want to bring me in to talk with a lawyer present, I’ve got nothing to do with your investigation. I’d like it very much if you’d leave,” I say, managing to keep my voice firm and my gaze steady. Lizzy would be proud. He sighs.

  “Maybe another time, then. Try to keep the screaming down to a minimum. This is a nice, quiet neighbourhood. I’m sure they’d prefer not to be disturbed by your shrieks every time your new pet sneaks up on you.”

  “I’ll try to keep my screaming to a minimum. Is that everything, detective?” I ask in an impatient tone, tapping my foot on the floor. I need to get him out of here so I can figure out how to get the demon to leave as well.

  “I’m going. Have a lovely evening, Kayla,” he says, clearly having decided to just invite himself to use my name. He steps back to turn and leave, but he pauses mid turn. “One last question?”

  “Hmm?” I hum in question, my eyes already darting to follow the demonic kitty that’s currently pacing back and forth in my hallway. Cats pace, right? I chew my lip as I continue to watch it.

  “What’s its name?” he asks, and I turn and blink at him vacantly. “The cat? What’s its name?” he prompts again when I don’t answer. Shit. Umm…

  “Damon,” I answer, smiling sweetly. I smother a giggle, and he gives me a bemused look before turning and leaving. I watch as he bounces back down the steps, until he crosses the street. Shutting and locking the door firmly, I lean up against it as almost hysterical laughter bubbles out of me.

  I laugh to myself for a good minute or so before looking down. The demon cat is looking up at me, giving me a look that could only be described as disdain. It’s a look that all cats seem to manage, not just the demon ones.

  “Don’t you get it?” I ask the demon, and it cocks its feline head to the side. “I told him your name was Da…” I trail off as the demon taps its tail loudly and turns, running off back towards the kitchen. Stupid freaking demon cat. It may be far less terrifying in cat form, but it has a terrible sense of humour.

  I follow the cat into the kitchen and spot it sitting on my kitchen counter. I swat at it before I can even think about it. “Bad demonic kitty! You’re getting fur all over the side counter!” I chastise, making it sit on the floor. If looks could kill, I’d already be dead. “Cut that out or I won’t turn you back. Imagine how lame that would be, stuck as a cat forever. I could drop you off at a cat shelter somewhere and a nice human family could adopt you. Imagine that!” I say, and the demon cat lies down in a submissive gesture, although its expression is still pretty murderous. I lift my hands out over the demon cat and whisper the reversal words of the spell. “Convertus cattus forma transuerso.”

  I close my eyes in concentration, and when I open them, I frown when I see the demon still in cat form. Its eyes widen in alarm as it stands and starts pacing again. “Hold still, let me try that again. Maybe I said it wrong?” I muse aloud. The demon cat freezes before turning to look at me expectantly. Holding out my hands, I close my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can, repeating the spell again, “Convertus cattus forma transuerso.” I open my eyes and groan when all I see is a black, furry, demonic kitty sitting in front of me. “Maybe I’m remembering the spell wrong?” I ask it, but it shakes its furry head. Apparently, it thinks I got the spell right too.

  “Okay, let’s not panic. I’m sure there’s something in my grandma’s grimoire to fix this,” I say hopefully. The demon huffs at me, before walking off to goddess knows where in my home. “If you pee inside my house I will skin you and make you into a hat!” I call after it, not that he takes any notice. I step over the broken wine bottle, not even bothering to clean it up. I have bigger problems. I grab an iced latte from the fridge before heading upstairs to grab my grandma’s grimoire.

  Her book got me into this mess, hopefully it can get me out of it.

  Eight

  A Demon Too Familiar

  Groggily walking into the kitchen, my heart all but bursts right out of my chest from fright as I spot someone standing in there. They turn around and I relax, my shoulders sagging with relief.

  “Lizzy, what are you doing here?” I groan, and she only shrugs at me, her mouth currently occupied with a granola bar. I glance down at where I’d left the shattered bottle, noticing it’s gone. Grimacing over the fact she’s cleaned up my mess, I walk over to the counter, hopping onto one of the stools.

  “I came to see how you were doing. I’d guessed you would have taken at least a day or two off from work too, considering they’re just offering it out to everyone in our team,” she says finally, putting the unfinished half of the bar down on the side counter.

  “I—”

  “And then I found this on your dining table, Kay. I figured if you’re shopping for sex toys, you must be doing just fine,” she says in a gleeful tone as she pulls the damn thing from the bag. My eyes bulge, and I grab for it, but she holds it out of m
y reach. Standing at five ten, Lizzy is much taller than me. I don’t stand a chance. I look glumly at her, giving up on trying to snag it. She smiles victoriously, before pulling it out of the box. She flicks the switch, bringing it to life, and her arm jolts from the intensity of the vibrations. She gives me a knowing look.

  “It’s really not what it looks like,” I say, and for the millionth time in the past week, I wish the floor would swallow me whole.

  “It looks like you’re finally liberated. I, for one, fully support this decision,” she responds in a teasing tone. I roll my eyes. For Secret Santa one year she’d gifted me a dildo that resembled a unicorn horn. She’d thought it was hilarious, and I’d thought it an insult to unicorns everywhere. Of course she’s loving this.

  “I didn’t buy it,” I say honestly, and she looks at me for a moment as if assessing whether I’m telling the truth or not, when suddenly, she gasps.

  “A GUY GOT IT FOR YOU?” she squeals loudly, smacking a hand down on the countertop in excitement. She’s been trying to get me on Tinder for goddess knows how long, and now she looks like the cat who got the… Fuck. Demon kitty.

  “You haven’t gone into the bathroom, have you?” I ask quickly, standing. I’d shut him in the bathroom last night when he wouldn’t stop knocking stuff over, trying to piss me off. I’d looked for hours for a solution to him being stuck as a cat, with none presenting themselves. When I’d finally announced my intention to sleep, demon kitty hadn’t been pleased.