Read Online Succubus Takes Manhattan by Nina Harper - Free Book Online
Authors: Nina Harper
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rolled her eyes. “You know, Lily, you own several thousand shares of that fund. Don’t you ever read the prospectus?”
My food was all gone. I scooped up stray syrup on my fork. It was time for dessert. Sybil might be embarrassed by blatant sex talk, but I was a little embarrassed myself. I didn’t know the name of the funds or the stocks I owned. I threw all those little pamphlets they sent around into recycling without opening them.
“So, what are you going to do with Marten tonight?” Desi asked.
I looked at her pointedly and Sybil blushed, but Desi is not so easily embarrassed. “Oh, I don’t mean that. I mean, where are you going to dinner?”
It was past two and I’d finished dessert. It was time to go. We’d paid our bill, left a more than generous tip, and were just settling wallets back into purses and making sure that favorite lipsticks were in place when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turned and recognized Craig Branford just inside the door.
I froze. He was looking at me, at the four of us, and his face was screwed up in a terrible scowl. Nathan had warned me.
Desi went white, and she’s not the timid one. Sybil looked like she was about to dive under the tablecloth. Me, I stared him in the face.
“Well, hello, Mr. Branford. Fancy seeing you here in Public,” I said rather loudly. “Would you like to join us?”
chapter
SEVEN
“Why would I want anything to do with you, handmaidens of Hell?” he hissed.
“Well, you’ve been pursuing us for over a month now. I thought it was time we at least stopped pretending that we didn’t know you’ve been trying to do something to us. So I thought that maybe we could talk it over like reasonable people,” I said. “I did try once already and thought we’d come to an agreement.”
Sybil and Desi had disappeared as I spoke, but Eros sat stone-still, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
Branford’s eyes were so wide that I thought he had been drawn by the guy who does South Park.
Suddenly I had the urge to giggle. He appeared as terrified as Sybil had before she fled, as if he believed that Eros and I would annihilate him on contact. Which was completely convoluted, since he was the one who’d tried to kill us with holy water–infused letters. I’d gotten mine first and had third-degree burns over my palms. If Satan hadn’t come and healed me on the spot I would still be in the burn unit at Columbia Presbyterian. Fortunately, She had gotten word to the others before they had ripped open those thick, creamy envelopes that had looked just like wedding invitations.
“You could sit down and order a cup of coffee,” I reiterated. “That would probably be better than standing there with your mouth open.”
“I do not take refreshment with demons,” he said stiffly.
I shook my head slowly. “You know, I don’t know where you got this idea or why you’ve got it in for us. But after busting up our friend’s date and then talking nonsense to my date in Aruba, I think you’ve got some explaining to do. Not to mention those weird cryptic notes you sent. You’re stalking us.” I didn’t mention the holy water. Only a demon would have known there was holy water on those notes, and right now my defense was running toward the fact that none of us had suffered any harm he could see. And that Marten had laughed in his face in Aruba.
“You are Hellspawn and it is our mission to rid the world of the likes of you. Go back to your master Satan.”
I don’t know what possessed me. Maybe I just lost it. Maybe I was sick of being stalked, and of hiding. But mostly I think I just got a raging case of the what-the-hells. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Do you believe that there really are such things as demons walking around the streets of New York? And that I’m a demon? I’m a fashion editor. Some people might think that I’m pretty rotten, I’ll admit that. Several of my ex-boyfriends would agree with you,
My food was all gone. I scooped up stray syrup on my fork. It was time for dessert. Sybil might be embarrassed by blatant sex talk, but I was a little embarrassed myself. I didn’t know the name of the funds or the stocks I owned. I threw all those little pamphlets they sent around into recycling without opening them.
“So, what are you going to do with Marten tonight?” Desi asked.
I looked at her pointedly and Sybil blushed, but Desi is not so easily embarrassed. “Oh, I don’t mean that. I mean, where are you going to dinner?”
It was past two and I’d finished dessert. It was time to go. We’d paid our bill, left a more than generous tip, and were just settling wallets back into purses and making sure that favorite lipsticks were in place when I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.
I turned and recognized Craig Branford just inside the door.
I froze. He was looking at me, at the four of us, and his face was screwed up in a terrible scowl. Nathan had warned me.
Desi went white, and she’s not the timid one. Sybil looked like she was about to dive under the tablecloth. Me, I stared him in the face.
“Well, hello, Mr. Branford. Fancy seeing you here in Public,” I said rather loudly. “Would you like to join us?”
chapter
SEVEN
“Why would I want anything to do with you, handmaidens of Hell?” he hissed.
“Well, you’ve been pursuing us for over a month now. I thought it was time we at least stopped pretending that we didn’t know you’ve been trying to do something to us. So I thought that maybe we could talk it over like reasonable people,” I said. “I did try once already and thought we’d come to an agreement.”
Sybil and Desi had disappeared as I spoke, but Eros sat stone-still, a hint of amusement in her eyes.
Branford’s eyes were so wide that I thought he had been drawn by the guy who does South Park.
Suddenly I had the urge to giggle. He appeared as terrified as Sybil had before she fled, as if he believed that Eros and I would annihilate him on contact. Which was completely convoluted, since he was the one who’d tried to kill us with holy water–infused letters. I’d gotten mine first and had third-degree burns over my palms. If Satan hadn’t come and healed me on the spot I would still be in the burn unit at Columbia Presbyterian. Fortunately, She had gotten word to the others before they had ripped open those thick, creamy envelopes that had looked just like wedding invitations.
“You could sit down and order a cup of coffee,” I reiterated. “That would probably be better than standing there with your mouth open.”
“I do not take refreshment with demons,” he said stiffly.
I shook my head slowly. “You know, I don’t know where you got this idea or why you’ve got it in for us. But after busting up our friend’s date and then talking nonsense to my date in Aruba, I think you’ve got some explaining to do. Not to mention those weird cryptic notes you sent. You’re stalking us.” I didn’t mention the holy water. Only a demon would have known there was holy water on those notes, and right now my defense was running toward the fact that none of us had suffered any harm he could see. And that Marten had laughed in his face in Aruba.
“You are Hellspawn and it is our mission to rid the world of the likes of you. Go back to your master Satan.”
I don’t know what possessed me. Maybe I just lost it. Maybe I was sick of being stalked, and of hiding. But mostly I think I just got a raging case of the what-the-hells. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Do you believe that there really are such things as demons walking around the streets of New York? And that I’m a demon? I’m a fashion editor. Some people might think that I’m pretty rotten, I’ll admit that. Several of my ex-boyfriends would agree with you,
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