A Demon’s Book Of Shadows (Witches & Demons #1)

15. Lucy

15

Lucy

Amon’s voice still lingered in my ears like a cool, velvety fog. “ Make sure you bring the grimoire .”

As evening inched closer, I checked my phone for what felt like the thousandth time. Grace had ghosted me. But Victoria was blowing me up with text messages about how scandalous she should be with her wardrobe.

My mind drifted back to my tutoring session at the library when Amon had shown up. Why the fuck did he have to look and smell so delicious? My fingers still burned with magic after his hand brushed over mine. I wondered if his touch had been an accident, or if he was just as curious about magical chemistry as I was.

No, you don’t. I wanted him gone, not drifting into a fantasy of being in the shower with him. Fuck . I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not after Jason. Not ever again with another man or a demon, if I could help it. How was I going to actually go about this kissing maneuver that would make Amon disappear?

I just wanted him to leave my books alone. Any time I saw his shadow, memories of Dad seemed to creep up from my subconscious .

My stomach pitted as Victoria’s purple jeep pulled up outside. The front door slammed shut as she found her way into the house. “Lucy!”

“I’m upstairs!”

Thundering footsteps followed.

Victoria quickly found me in the bathroom. She bustled past me, grabbing a pair of fake eyelashes. “I still need to doll up. We’re both going to land ourselves a hot date tonight.”

I jammed my thumbs to my phone, typing out a message to Grace.

Hey. I’m going for the kiss tonight. What kind of kiss do you think your screaming death beans were suggesting?

I don’t know—get creative. They’re a bunch of fucking beans for goddess sake.

I pocketed my phone. This was going to be one wild night. I lathered on some mascara. No. This isn’t right. Was I really trying to doll up for the possibility of kissing some demon?

Amon’s handsome face appeared in my memory. Damn, he was so fine with his thick wiry hair and deep-set eyes. First thing first. When I arrived at the bar, I was going to need some serious alcohol in my system if I was to go through with this kiss.

We arrived a little after seven, barely finding parking. Apparently this books and bakes event was bigger than I expected. I lugged my tote with the grimoire tucked inside, ready to get this kissing exchange with Amon over.

As soon as Victoria and I walked into the bar, gravity seemed to tug against my book tote. I wasn’t Grubs shifting around in there. Something else was at play—magic I assumed belonged to demons.

Victoria clapped her hands together. “What a lovely magical atmosphere! I don’t know why us sisters don’t hang out here more.” She made a b-line for the bar, where an incredibly bulky looking guy was busy preparing drinks and pastries ? The sight was almost comical. He looked like he could give a biker a run for their money with his pinky finger.

His eyes drifted up, locking onto me. The look was almost identical to Amon when he was busy harassing me.

“Wow, he’s super yummy,” Victoria said as she practically skipped to the bar where the bar owner was staring at me.

I followed her, finding a place in front of him. This must be Amon’s brother, Krim.

Krim looked nothing like Amon. For one, he was far beefier, and his hair wasn’t black. It was reddish-brown, almost sandy. And his eyes were the kind of blue that made you think of far off exotic places.

Like me, he was wearing a cardigan, which made me feel a bit better. We could have been twinsie librarians. Only he had flour smudges on the sleeves that were rolled up to the thick leather elbow patches. Something about this bartender made me think academic .

Victoria’s boob practically fell out of her dress as she flopped both of her forearms onto the bar. “Hello. What do we call you, infamous bartender?”

“I’m Krim Ravenblood, bar owner and Amon’s younger brother.”

I squinted. Younger brother? He was much larger than Amon in size, and had a voice twice as deep.

“Charmed,” Victoria said, throwing out her hand. “I’m Victoria Crow. This is Lucy, my younger sister.”

Krim’s eyes dipped to me. “Yes, I know. Amon told me to be expecting you right around seven.”

I bit my lip. The last thing I wanted was for Victoria to think Grace set me up on a date with this demon. “Where is he?”

“Amon’s running a bit behind, but I promise, he will show.” His eyes dipped further, landing on my tote. “Do you have a book that you would like to put on display with the others?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. Krim obviously knew I'd brought the grimoire. According to Amon, he was supposed to help capture a dangerous spirit who escaped it.

The corners of his wide mouth turned down. A hint of something uneasy flashed across his blue eyes. “Go on and have a look around at the tables. There are a few you can choose from to set up.”

Victoria glanced between me and Krim, and I knew she was going to spend the entire evening batting her fake eyelashes at him. “What do you suggest two witch sisters have to drink if they want to get lucky? ”

The corners of Krim’s wide mouth turned up. “I guess that depends on what kind of luck you’re looking for.”

I cringed. Fuck . This was going to be a devastatingly long evening.

“I’m going to have a look around at the tables,” I said, quickly finding a reason to excuse myself. I busied myself passing some of the bookish booths, trying to figure out which one will be best. A creepy, hollow sort of feeling branched over me, like something prickly was reaching up my legs.

Another woman approached the bar, making the same doe eyes at Krim. Victoria had some stiff competition. But my sister was large, and her hips had more sass loaded in them than an elephant matriarch. She wouldn’t let the skinny, sickly-looking woman wearing spider web leggings and a mini skirt sneak in flirt with Krim while she dominated the bar.

I couldn’t see the newcomer’s face, but what I could make out was that she was skin and bones. And why the heck did it smell like a rose bath bomb exploded?

“Lucy.”

I jumped as Amon’s voice sounded behind me. His tone was lower, harsher than normal. There was no silky after-sound that followed.

“You didn’t bring the grimoire, did you?” he asked.

“Didn’t you ask me to?”

“Change of plans.” His eyes drift to the bar, where the skeletally thin woman had Krim looking sick .

Jealousy wrecked my sister’s profile as the incredibly handsy woman moved all over him. She stroked the side of his face, his neck, until she tickled his earlobe with a long pinky fingernail.

“That’s Melrose,” Amon said, stepping forward and blocking me from seeing what’s going on at the bar.

I squinted, barely believing my eyes. “So that’s the spirit who escaped the grimoire?”

Amon’s hand came to mine. His touch was callused and unbelievably warm. We’d touched in the library, but this touch had possessiveness written all over it.

In one swift movement, he tugged me aside. He released my hand and pointed to a stack of beer kegs. “Hide here.”

“Why?”

“There is another spirit in town that is more dangerous than Melrose. And he might be closer than I thought.” Amon set his arm on the wooden shelf behind me. He leaned, dangerously so, pinning me against the kegs he wanted me to duck behind.

Here was my moment. His lips were dangerously close to mine. I could taste the mint on his breath—feel the protective flame in his eyes.

This was as private as any place I could get in a bar with people swarming around me. Okay. Here goes.

I grabbed his face with my hands and leaned toward him.

I closed my eyes as my lips crashed into his.

A grunt escaped Amon as I worked my lips over his mouth.

His taste was a mixture of smoke and something citrus .

His hands dropped to my hips forcefully. The sheer gravity behind his touch was enough to make my knees buckle.

Oh, fucking goddess, he tastes and feels glorious.

He pulled his lips away from mine. “Stop,” he grunted. “What are you doing?”

I was breathing like I'd run a mile. His body pressed against mine, forcing me back against the wall. But my back didn’t slam into anything solid.

The bar fell away, and I was literally hanging midair, tendrils of smoke, vapor, and ash coiling around me. I was swallowed into a void of earth, vines, and darkness.