Read Online The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 by Jodi Redford - Free Book Online Page B

swung the door shut and continued across the hall. Clarissa’s gaze remained riveted to the spot just beyond the closet, where two figures were bent close together, engaged in what looked to be an engrossing conversation. She stared at Seven, a shiver of foreboding heralding a colony of goose bumps along both her arms. This wasn’t the same personality who’d sealed their contract with a kiss last night. Instead, it was the grizzled, potbellied trucker she’d tracked down seven years ago and begged to exchange the contract on her father’s soul for her own.
    What was it doing here?
    A hot wash of anger sizzled through her as the obvious answer materialized. Seven was contracting more souls. And preying on the helpless elderly in the process.
    That fucking, heartless son of a bitch.
    “Ms. Miles, there you are.”
    Janet’s perky announcement was loud enough to draw every gaze within two hundred feet. Including Seven’s. The creature locked stares with Clarissa, the mouth tucked within that overgrowth of beard curving in a sinister grin. Plump fingers tapped against the bill of the green-and-white baseball cap smashed low on Seven’s wide brow, giving Clarissa a mocking salute.
    Janet stepped forward, momentarily blocking Seven from view. She held out a matchbook. “I found this on the floor in front of my desk. You must have dropped it earlier.”
    Clarissa gaped at the large red T stamped on the matchbook’s glossy cover. Equally repelled and captivated, she reached for the matchbook. She flipped it open, her pulse stuttering at the sight of the name scrawled in blue ink. Barry Tatum .
    She remembered how shaky her fingers had been while writing that name in this very matchbook seven years ago. Remembered the weeks of agonizing she’d put herself through while she’d struggled over the decision to set her plan in motion—the plan that literally brought her life crashing down around her.
    Now the matchbook was back. Another reminder of her guilt.
    “Are you okay?”
    Janet’s concerned tone snapped Clarissa out of her daze. She lifted her head, her gaze skipping past the receptionist to the far corner.
    Seven was gone.
    Swallowing past the unease tightening her throat, she glanced at Janet. “I’m fine. Or I will be, after you promise to restrict my father’s visitor list.”
    The receptionist frowned. “But—”
    “Promise me.”
    Finally clued in to the severity of the situation, Janet bobbed her head. “Okay, if that’s what you want. Who do you wish to restrict?”
    Clarissa took a deep breath. There was only one answer that’d keep out a creature that could wear a variety of faces. “Everyone.”

Chapter Eight
    Logan silently bitched to himself while he mopped a bar rag across the handful of damp condensation rings topping the counter. The one downfall to the lunchtime crunch fizzling to a trickle of customers was now he had way too much time to mull over his situation with Clarissa.
    If he’d hoped for one damn minute that sleeping with her would cure him of his constant obsession, his present state of mind more than kicked that fallacy square in the balls. Only now it wasn’t ruminations about how sweet she might taste or what kind of sounds she made when she was seconds away from coming that consumed his every waking thought. No, he knew all too well the answers to those burning questions. His current dilemma—and the reason for his unflagging erection for the past four hours—was anticipating all the things he’d do to Clarissa the next time they were in bed together.
    Realistically, twenty-four hours wouldn’t be adequate time for everything he wanted to do. Hell, a lifetime would be cutting it pretty damn short. And that was another sobering conclusion he’d come to. A night or two would never be long enough to get Clarissa out of his system.
    Any lingering illusions he might have tried to fool himself with in regards to his feelings for Clarissa were now dead. This went miles