Page 65 of A Summoned Husband

“If only you could see what I—”

“No!” I held a hand up, stopping his words. “That’s enough of that. I would rather be terrorized by a witch than hear whatever you’re going to say next. No, thank you. Stop.”

He chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Fine. Let’s get you your ice cream.”

Right. Ice cream. That was what I needed. Something to cool me the fuck down after whatever the hell that was.

I hurried over to the self-checkout, keeping my eyes honed on the task as I avoided looking at the man — demon — who had no doubt created a puddle in my panties. Shoving the countless cartons into several reusable bags I had to buy even though I had over a dozen of them under my counter in the kitchen I constantly forgot to bring, I grabbed one. Asmodeus grabbed the other four without prompting and I flinched away from him as he reached around me.

Distance was going to be important where he was concerned.

His low chuckle annoyed me.

That was good. Being annoyed with him was going to be my defence. Distance and anger.

I took a large sidestep around him and made my way to the car.

Asmodeus whistled when we got outside. I hated being so aware of him and mentally debated whether I would be able to keep my resolve when we were finally back in my house. Alone.

The way my heart still thrummed as the intimate parts of me pulsed told me I had a better chance of summoning a second husband.

I was so screwed… or if I wasn’t careful, I was gonna be.

23

ASMODEUS

Eden was angry or something very close to it.

It was hard to pinpoint these little waves of emotions. They felt the same and yet so different. This one had the same burn as anger but was not as tumultuous. I felt the ripples of it in the car, the entire ride filled with silence broken up by the sound of her grinding teeth.

Trying to understand her stole all my thoughts. Thoughts that should have been directed at the witch and how brazen she’d become. Each appearance had a purpose, of that I was sure. I should spend my time trying to understand this witch and her plans but instead, I sat staring at the woman who intrigued me beyond reason.

She stood in the kitchen with a scowl, shovelling spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth. Her eyes were narrowed and sharp as she stared at me, unflinching, as I sat on the chair in the living room facing her. My eyes were honed on her. On the way she stabbed the spoon angrily into the carton like it was something she wanted to destroy before she brought the spoon to her mouth. The mountain of ice cream disappeared only for her to repeat the process.

Every so often she would mutter something about demons, arguing with herself under her breath until the ice cream stalled her.

Moments like these convinced me we were a match. She looked positively vicious and just as tempting. Her tongue rolled over her lip, clearing away some of the ice cream and I adjusted in my seat as my thoughts turned perverse.

Just what could she accomplish with that tongue, I wondered.

The sound of metal against stone was sharp as she banged her spoon against the counter before she pointed it at me, fuming. “Stop staring at me! Go do something!”

I laced my fingers together, resting them against my stomach as my elbows remained perched on the arms of the chair. “What would you suggest?”

She whipped a hand out, sending bits of ice cream flying. “I don’t know. Don’t you have things to do? Demon things or something? Outside of my house?”

“Not at the moment.” I should be seeking out the witch. If not her specifically, one that could give me answers. Perhaps there was an apothecary or a psychic establishment where witches and seers like to hide amongst these vexing beings. Surely I could find at least a trail there. And yet… I spoke the words and they were the truth.

“Well…” She sputtered over her words. “Can’t you just find something to do?”

Relief poured through me that she asked a question instead of uttering a command. I shouldn’t push my luck knowing how easily she could banish me to the woods, and yet I couldn’t deny myself. I liked seeing her this way. Worked up. When her emotions devoured her fear and ran wild and free. Encompassing every inch of her and making her look like something that could easily bring a demon to heel.

“Tell me…” I hesitated, knowing how it would enrage her. “Wife. Just what is it you would like me to do?”

She stabbed the spoon into the carton before tossing it onto the counter. Her jaw set, ropes of muscles dancing over the bone making her flesh look too tight before she planted her hands on the counter and leaned into it. There was a battle happening. I saw it both on her face and felt the surge of it in my chest as she lifted herself on her toes before rocking on her heels, cheeks puffed with air.

“I have a few ideas of something I could do,” I told her, watching for her reaction.