Read Online Holy Socks And Dirtier Demons by J.A. Kazimer - Free Book Online

position, considered puking, but
    decided against it. In the dim, seemingly never ending candlelight, my eyes
    inspected the mausoleum. With the exception of a missing Lilith, nothing
    looked out of place. I stumbled to my feet and toward the door.
    Check that. A missing Lilith and a broken door handle.
    Fuck. I was trapped, pissed off and claustrophobic too. I had to get
    out. The walls warped, shrinking in my mind’s eye. Running full tilt at the
    door, I slipped on a puddle of candle wax, hit my head against the marble
    archway, and knocked myself unconscious.
    Lord knows how much time had passed when I awoke to the rumble
    of the granite door opening. A cooling breeze drifted into the room,
    extinguishing the flickering candles. I inhaled deeply, sucking in the fresh
    scent of cemetery air.
    My savior spoke, “Jace? Thank God. I was so worried.” Mary ran
    into my crypt, threw her arms around me, and hugged me tight. She smelled
    of woman, turpentine, and oil based paint.
    Heaven scent.
    “How’d you find me?” My voice bounced off the stone, sounding
    louder than it had inside my head. I winced at the sound, but slowly rose to
    my feet, keeping her body close to me.
    “Someone slipped a map under my door. It said you were in trouble,
    so I got here as fast as I could.”
    Ah, the angel. He said he couldn’t affect the timeline of someone’s
    life, but he sure as hell interfered in mine at will. Just this once, I was
    thankful for the intervention. Spending an eternity with a bridge jumper and
    two dead New York City mayors held little appeal.
    “What time is it?” I blinked at the glaring sunlight as Mary helped
    46

    me from the crypt.
    “Noon.”
    Shit.
    “Thursday.”
    What the fuck? I’d been trapped for two days? When I found Lilith I
    was going to—
    “Does this have to do with little J.C.?” Mary trembled, her body
    absorbing my rage.
    I swallowed the bile of hate, and lifted her face to meet my eyes.
    “Yes, and it’s very dangerous. I want you to stay away from me and your
    apartment until I get things settled.”
    She shook her head. “I can’t, Jace. I have nowhere else to go, and
    even less money to get there.”
    She was so innocent, standing there with big violet eyes. My
    protective instincts surfaced, and my thoughts shifted from search and
    destroy to serve and protect. I would give my life to keep her and the kid
    safe.
    ~ * ~
    Mary and I stopped on Flatbush Avenue for supplies. Little Haiti, as
    Flatbush was better known, served the needs of thousands of Voodoo
    practitioners throughout the five boroughs. Pick any storefront, and behind
    the fried plantains and bottles of rum were spells for all occasions.
    I traded a golden cross I had worn since my baptism for two
    protection spells and a couple of talismans, one of which was in the shape of
    a blood-sucking succubus that reminded me of Lilith.
    Pulling off my dog tags, I strung the talisman onto the heavy metal
    chain, and looped it around Mary’s neck. The clasp caught a strand of her
    white-blond hair. I gently removed the strand, taking a moment to thread it
    through my fingers. Its soft, silky texture played havoc with my libido.
    Pulling away, Mary lifted the tags and smiled. A possessiveness I
    hadn’t felt since wife number one entered my heart. I kissed her, running my
    fingers along her skin.
    “I’ll keep you safe,” I promised, tasting her sweetness with hungry
    lips. “As long as I’m alive, nothing will hurt you.”
    She stroked my cheek. “Thank you.”
    The blare of a taxi horn interrupted our tender moment. Reluctantly,
    we climbed inside and returned to the real world. A world where only fools
    made promises and dark-haired succubae ruled.
    ~ * ~
    An hour later, Mary waited on the street while I crept into my
    apartment. No sign of the angel or Lilith, but there was a huge pool of black-
    red blood, and a trail of feathers on the floor. My heart sped up. No, not the
    angel. Guilt at bringing death in the