Page 30 of A Summoned Husband

Agroan left me as I propped my head up on my hand. The pounding in my skull was ceaseless and even the two mugs of coffee I downed hadn’t been enough to quiet it.

“Are you supposed to get hungover from weed?” I grumbled.

Sarika grinned at me over the edge of her coffee mug. “Not that I’m aware, but it could have something to do with the shots you hammered when you came down from your room screaming about being a demon banisher.”

Oh right, the shots.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I grumbled.

Everything from me pouring wine in my kitchen to this very moment was a blur of memories I didn’t want to sort through. I didn’t want to see them. They needed to be forgotten. Forgotten was good. Monday morning was right around the corner.

I would go into the office this week for no other reason than working remotely in my secluded house by myself after summoning a demon didn’t feel like the right move. I’d work long hours too. Really burn the midnight oil.

That couch in my office was cozy as fuck.

Imani came into the room with the crucifix she had found at some point hanging around her neck. The twine that held it was the same I had been using to make farmhouse-looking candle holders.

“Imani… aren’t you Muslim?” I muttered low. She was as Muslim as I was Christian, but seeing her rocking a crucifix made me forget that neither of us had practiced our faith in over a decade.

“Look, when they put a Muslim movie out that talks about how to get rid of demons, I will happily swap this for whatever they use. In the meantime, this is staying where it is.” She shook her head.

Olivia’s brows dropped. “I’m pretty sure there are—”

“Shut up, Vi!” Imani huffed.

The carefree attitude from Friday night vanished and left them all feeling like strings ready to snap. I felt it too, along with a guilt that sat like a stone in my stomach. This was supposed to be a carefree escape for most of them, and now they were stuck in this weird situation with me.

“Look,” I huffed out before I dragged my fingernails along my brow as though they could cut past the skin and itch at the place in my brain that felt uneasy. “This whole weekend has turned into a shit show. I think the best thing for everyone right now would be to cut it all short.”

Sarika frowned. “Ede…”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I’m probably just going to sleep the rest of the day away anyway. You should all get home and away from this hell house.”

Imani sucked air through her teeth. “It wouldn’t be a hellhouse if Vi hadn’t—”

“How the hell was I supposed to know the book would actually work?” Vi defended.

Alicia piled her locs atop her head and used one to secure her bun. “Oh, I don’t know. You could have listened to Imani when she was telling us all that was some white people shit and been content with just drinking and unwinding. You know… grown folk activities instead of the high school bullshit that has completely screwed us.” There was no judgment in Alicia’s tone. She said it in the same way she said most things, in a blase tone meant to inform — nothing more.

Vi’s face soured as she dropped it into her hands.

“Screwed me,” I corrected.

“What?” Alicia looked at me, confused.

I pursed my lips, shoving my hair behind my ears. “Screwed me. I’m the one apparently married to a demon now. This is my shit show.”

“Girl, I know you ain’t trying to make this out to be a you thing,” Imani shook her head. “We’re in this together… as always.”

“Alicia’s right. We aren’t kids anymore. You have kids, husbands, lives. We can’t just drop everything when one of us throws up the distress signal.” As desperately as I wanted to be saved, it was selfish to try and dish this out evenly on all our plates. “I’m a big girl. I can figure this out.”

“Figure what out?” Sarika raised a questioning brow. She piled her thick hair atop her head just as Alicia had and secured it as best as her hair band would allow. The weight of her bun made it hang slightly off to the side, threatening to fall. “I’m not questioning your independence, Ede, but we’re talking demons here.”

“Thanks to Mrs. Olivia Thomas,” Imani rolled her brow.

“Oh… that’s what we’re doing now? Just straight government naming each other, Imani Abebe?” She narrowed her eyes at Sarika. “Sarika Devi.”

“Hey! What did I do?”