Page 20 of A Summoned Husband

“Olivia!” Sarika yelled.

Her shrill screaming had never stopped and with everything else dwindling toward a calm, I could finally hear it again. It was grating, awakening the ache in my mind that couldn’t fully be blamed on alcohol now that I pushed up off the table and looked at the demon who stood in my kitchen.

“Shut up, will you?” Sarika barked.

Alicia clamped her hand over Olivia’s mouth, pulling her into her chest. “Vi… enough,” she whispered into her ear.

A breath escaped her as she quieted and slumped against Alicia. Tears clouded her eyes as she looked from Asmodeus to me, her panic still coursing through her with no outlet now that her mouth was closed.

I looked at his outstretched hand like something that was meant to lead me to my ruin. Maybe it would… I really couldn’t know. The need to put space between him and the girls was deep-rooted in me as I took his hand and let him lift me off the table. He lifted me with an ease that made butterflies flutter restlessly in my stomach, his hands wrapped around my waist like I was tiny in his hold. He didn’t place me on the floor right away, instead, he walked out from behind the table and across the kitchen, ignoring the gaping looks he left in his wake.

He didn’t set me down until we were in the hallway. His heated hands placed me on my feet with an unexpected gentleness.

My heart hammered in my chest as I looked down at the stretched neckline of my shirt. My hand traced the key that shifted under my flesh.

“I don’t understand.” My brow dropped in confusion.

“You read from the book,” he accused.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Yeah! For fun! I never thought we would be reading anything… real!”

Bits of plaster rained down on me as his horns scraped against my ceiling.

“Hey! Could you…” What? Shrink his horns down so he wouldn’t ruin my house? It seemed like such a silly thing to worry about now.

Asmodeus’ eyes lifted to the scrapes in the ceiling. As though he read my thoughts, he shrunk down, the space between his horns and the ceiling growing.

What had once been fur-covered legs ending in hooves were now regular legs. He wore dark jeans and red sneakers. It made me wonder just how he could have covered himself with such mundane clothes. Magic… obviously. But the style… did he visit humans often enough to know about our fashion?

Focus, Eden! I mentally chastised myself.

“Where did you get the book?” His voice was the harsh sound of nightmares realized. It sent a shudder through me as I looked up at him. He may have shrunk down, but he still towered above me.

My eyes traced the carved marks on the ceiling.

“Mortal woman… will you forget about the state of your dwelling and tell me where you got the book.”

A heavy blink tore my attention away from the ceiling and back to the demon. Asmodeus. Why did that demonic name sound familiar? I wished I could talk to Gran. With all the demons she threatened me with over my life, I was sure Gran would know exactly who he was.

A booming clap made my heart skip a beat before it plummeted into the pits of my stomach. I swallowed hard, my feet taking a wary step back without my permission.

“The book,” he enunciated each word.

“Right,” my voice cracked under the weight of my anxiousness. “The book.”

“Where?” He took a menacing step toward me.

“I was a few wines deep when Vi pulled it out.” My mind raced, frantically trying to find the answers I wasn’t sure he would wait for. No. She didn’t pull it out. It was just on the table but we asked, right? We… “Queen Street!” I yelled.

“What?”

Bump, bump. Bump, bump.

My eyes widened as I swallowed hard. The sound that haunted my dreams came back for me in my wakefulness.

Imani had been right. We shouldn’t have gotten into white people nonsense. There was a reason demonic movies didn’t have Black leads. Because we didn’t mess around with all that.

Except we did.