Devil On A Hot Tin Roof (Madder Than Hell Book 2) Read online

  “Four?”

  “Me, my older sister Olivia, and my younger sisters Eliza and Elise, they’re twins.” I smiled. “Olivia tried her best, but between the neighboring plantations and the bank wanting our farm, it became an impossible task.” I grimaced. “Once a half-dozen men arrived at our place to burn our barn. They would have burned the house as well if Poppa hadn’t taught us all to use rifles.” I laughed. “Imagine their surprise when a small pack of sweet Southern belles shot them to kingdom come.”

  “It must have been terrifying for them.” Jared wore a teasing smile as he turned down a gravel road.

  “It was a lost cause, though. The bank sent a foreclosure notice and was going to put us out, but then Olivia made a deal with a demon lord. A really horrific creature named Moloch. He promised Olivia that if she became his minion, he would make it to where Eliza, Elise, and I could stay on the farm for the rest of our lives.”

  Jared nodded. “It sounds like as good as any reason.”

  “Well, the rest of our lives ended up being three years.” I shuddered as I remembered dying of yellow fever. At the time, I didn’t know that it was probably heart or liver failure that took my sisters and I, but there were several times I’d wished I was dead. Nausea and the fevers had been unbearable.

  “Wait a minute.” He turned down another gravel drive toward a small place in the woods. The only light was on the tiny porch. He parked. “And that makes you how old?”

  “I was twenty-four when I died. So, I’m good with that.”

  He got out of the truck, came around to my side and opened the door for me. “You know I’ve heard the name Kobal before.”

  “Well, all the myths are fairly true,” I said. I took Jared’s hand and allowed him to help me down. While I didn’t need the help, I appreciated the chivalry.

  “So, what did you gain when you made your deal?”

  I snorted again. “Not fame or fortune, obviously, and I’m not very talented. I’m not even sure why the demon bothered with me in the first place.”

  “And when you die, he will get your soul?” Jared stared down at me and took my hands. His blue eyes glittered under the clear night sky.

  “Oh, I didn’t make that kind of deal. My sister Olivia had made a demon’s bargain to save me and our sisters. I made a similar bargain to save her.” I left out the part where Olivia had managed, with a little help from our friends, to save herself. “As long as I do the odd job for Kobal once a year, then I will live one hundred years. My service is at his whim though, as long as he doesn't make me deal for souls or harm innocents, I have to do his bidding.” I lowered my eyes to avoid his penetrative gaze. “How have you heard about him?”

  “I apprenticed for a man who used to tell the story of the demon lord Kobal and a bargain struck. He’d wished to be the most talented magician to ever live. And he was. He changed a card from a Queen of Hearts to an Ace of Spades from across a room. There wasn’t a single person around me, and I was staring at the card the entire time he performed the trick. But you see, while he was the most talented magician I’d ever met, he was far from the most successful. The man was broke ninety-nine percent of the time. It’s the thing he used to lament the most whenever he drank.”

  A bad feeling formed in my gut.

  Jared let go of my hand and fingered his shirt right above his sternum. He pulled out a circular amulet with a bunch of strange writing on it. “This was his. He gave it to me two days before he died. He was sick with liver failure, and he talked a little crazy there at the end, but he said he’d found a way to cheat Kobal. To keep his soul from hell. This charm was the key, he’d said. All I had to do was accept his gift and put it on. Seemed simple enough of that time.” He tugged on the chain.

  "Do you always wear it?"

  "Except for showers. I know it sounds weird, but when I'm not wearing it, I almost itch to have it back on."

  “What was the magician’s name?”

  “Aloysius Bernstein, or as he was better known—”

  “Aloysius the Magnificent.” Well, shoot. My job for Kobal had either gotten a lot easier or a lot more complicated. I was banking on complicated.

  Chapter 5

  I’d felt as if someone had let all the air out of my tires. If Aloysius were dead then why had Kobal sent me to find him? His soul should already be in Hell with the demon lord. I reached up to touch the dangling amulet and jerked my fingers back as a small zap of something akin to electrical current tagged me.

  Jared frowned. “That’s never happened before.”

  Well, it had happened to me—anytime I was within a whisper of silver. Silver was toxic to demons, but minions could handle it. Somewhat. I wasn’t completely immune to silver’s effects. “Can you take it off so I can get a better look?”

  Jared reached back to unhook the clasp, he fiddled with it for several seconds then frowned again. “I can’t seem to get it. It usually comes right off.”

  I tugged my upper lip between my teeth. “Turn around and let me try.”

  Jared turned and stooped for me so I could easily reach. The fastener was a square, open box clasp. The slight hum on my skin as I quickly tapped the metal, told me it was definitely silver. I compressed the wedge-shaped switch on the side, but nothing happened. I tried again, pushing down on the switch with my right thumb while simultaneously pulling at both ends with my fingers. I tried again and yanked my hand back again when the box pinched my thumb pad.

  “Ouch,” I said as I put the wound to my mouth, immediately taking it out when I tasted metal. “The closure bit me. I’m bleeding.”

  Jared turned to me. “Let’s get in the house and take a look.”

  "We should take care of the body first."

  "That dude ain't going nowhere, and no one is going to accidentally happen upon him out here. I think he can wait until I look at your thumb."

  I smiled. "Really, I'll be fine. I heal quick."

  "I'll feel better if you let me check. We have to go in anyways for gloves and such."

  "Okay." I'd prefer gloves when handling corpses anyway, so it was a win-win.

  The house was a ranch-style cabin with a small wooden porch leading to the front door. He reached around me and flipped on the interior light switch and held the door open as I went inside.

  “Have a seat. I’ll go get the first aid kit.” He hustled down the short hall and took the first of three doors.

  The tidy living room had a well-worn brown sectional sofa with a square coffee table at the center. He had an entertainment stand with a record player and four wire racks of a vinyl albums. No television. The butter yellow walls were sparsely decorated with wildlife paintings, nothing too personal. I could usually tell a lot about people by their living spaces but given the lack of personalization I’d seen so far, Jared was still a mystery.

  I sat on the end on the sectional and leaned my elbow on the armrest.

  The kitchen was semi-open to the living room. It was L-shaped, and the breakfast bar acted as a divider between the two areas. It appeared to be functional, but nothing fancy. I got up, walked around the bar, and went to the fridge, holding my breath as I opened the door. A gallon of milk, half gone, some take-out boxes, standard condiments, mustard, mayo, and catsup, lunch meat, American singles cheese slices, a six-pack of bottled beer, and a case of Cherry Dr. Pepper, the only thing to make me cringe. I could not stomach soda pop. People who drank the stuff might as well pour themselves a glass of sugary acid and be done with it.

  Jared walked around the corner of the breakfast bar and sat a small red bag on the counter. “You’re welcome to anything in the refrigerator or cupboards. I need to grocery shop, but whatever I have is yours.”

  I smiled. “That’s a kind offer. I’m okay for now.”

  “Let me take a look at that thumb,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I told him.

  He reached out and took my hand anyway. He held up my thumb and studied it from left to right, forward and back.
He picked up my other hand as if maybe he’d looked at the wrong one. “There is nothing, not even a red mark.”

  “I told you. One of the perks of being a minion. Speedy healing.”

  He planted a kiss on the tip where the small prick wound had been. My stomach flippity-flopped, my knees went weak, and my palms began to sweat. “What was that for?”

  He smiled. “I don’t know. I just wanted to kiss you, and I settled for the part of you that wouldn’t send you running.”

  “I won’t run,” I said breathily.

  Jared bent down, his lips softly brushing mine, making me feel tingly all over. I’d never been kissed before, so, I just stood there like a frozen goose. A giddiness rose in me that reminded me of the time Olivia, and I had gotten into Poppa’s moonshine. Then, it had only taken a sip or two of 180 proof alcohol to make me feel the same way I felt now.

  “Everything okay?” Jared asked.

  “Yes,” I said. This was definitely not the time for kissing and such, but there was something about Jared I found irresistible. And apparently, he felt the same way. I had to figure out a way to slow down my cascading hormones. “I’m just nervous is all. I’ve never…”

  “Never?” He crooked his head to the side.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. I shouldn’t have been embarrassed by my inexperience, but I was. “That was my first kiss,” I told him.

  His brows raised, then he drew me into his arms. The press of his hard muscles against my softer body notched up my pulse. He caressed my cheek. “How has someone as pretty as you never been kissed before?”

  “I died in 1871, and I lived fairly isolated on a farm until that time. Then I spent one hundred and forty-seven years as a ghost. There just wasn’t much opportunity to go a-courtin'.”

  “Do you want to try again?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Very much so.”

  “Just relax into the kiss,” he said. He took my hands and pressed them against his chest and slid them up to his neck. “And hold on.” He stooped and wrapped his arms around my waist as he once again pressed his lips gently against mine. His tongue breached the slit of my lips, surprising me a little at first, but also filling me with an excitement I’d never experienced. My fingertips danced along his neck before I locked my hands and leaned into the kiss.

  “Open for me, Charlotte,” he said against my mouth.

  And I did. His tongue tangled with mine as the passion between us grew. I groaned as I felt the swell in his jeans harden against my stomach. Jared matched me with a throaty moan as he lifted me onto the counter and used his hips to position himself between my thighs. Instinct had me wrapping my legs around him, pulling him closer, wanting nothing more than to press the throbbing core between my legs against Jared.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered as he broke the kiss and nibbled the side of my cheek to my ear. “So beautiful, so sweet.”

  I tangled his T-shirt into my fists and yanked it up over his head. This was not how good girls behaved, but in the moment, I didn’t want to be a good girl. I wanted to be bad. Very, very bad. The amulet warmed between us, reminding me of what had driven us into the house in the first place. Before I could say anything, the front door slammed open.

  “Charlotte Corrine Madder!” a stern voice admonished. I groaned again, but not for any good reason.

  “My sisters are here,” I said to Jared as I unhooked my feet from around his waist and he took a step back.

  Olivia came barreling into the living room followed by my sisters, Elise and Eliza. Then Liv’s husband David Jensen arrived—and with him, David’s best friends and fellow members of the Psychical Society of Paranormal Researchers, or PSPR for short, Ennis Rutherford, Frank Fowler, and Ray Walters. Ennis, Frank, and Ray were all in their eighties, but they were far from past their prime when it came to usefulness.

  I hopped down from the counter as Jared put on his shirt. I looked over the crew and then turned to Olivia. “You brought everyone? I was in jail, Liv. Not trapped in limbo.”

  Olivia was eyeing Jared like she wanted to spike his forehead.

  “He knows everything,” I said.

  “We don’t know if we can trust him.” Olivia turned her patented big-sister glare on me, but I wasn’t backing down. I had instincts, too, and they were telling me that Jared was a good guy. Of course, my hormones thought that, too, so I might not exactly be objective in my regard for Jared.

  “You can trust me.” Jared leaned against the kitchen counter and studied all the people who’d just invaded his home.

  * * *

  Eliza was ogling him like she wanted to sleep with him, and Elise was staring at me, her expression shifting through a myriad of emotions.

  Elise was the most empathetic of us all, and she was working on becoming a counselor. She rushed over and gave me a hug. “Oh, Charlotte. It must have been awful,” she said. “Prison is no place for a lady.”

  “I’m all right,” I told her as I extracted myself from her embrace. “Luckily, my time in incarceration was short lived. Even with the charges dropped and his wife vouching for his well-being, we might have to jump through some hoops to make sure it stays that way. I don't want any her caught in any fall out from my blundering.”

  Eliza whistled in Jared’s direction. “Boy, oh, boy. Where did you find this one at? Good looks and he’ll help you hide the body.” She grinned. “Does tall, dark, and accessory to a crime have a brother?”

  “Only child, as far as I know,” Jared answered.

  “Well, shoot,” Eliza pouted, then batted some flirty eyelashes in Jared’s direction. I shot her a look that I hoped said, “Hands off, sister dearest.”

  Finally, Olivia held out her hand to Jared. “I’m Liv,” she said. “Charlotte’s older sister.” She emphasized older as if she also meant wiser.

  Jared took her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jared.”

  Ennis, tall and thin, with snow-white hair and rounded shoulders, crowded in next to me and gave Olivia a cross look. “Now, you just leave Char’s new fella alone. The girl is all work all the time, and a little bit of play isn’t going to hurt her one tiny bit.”

  "Thank you, Ennis." We'd bonded over our love of gadgets, and I appreciated that Ennis was Team Charlotte.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “I don’t suppose the two of you got rid of the body before you starting playing patty cake?”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh, for—really? Okay, where’s the body? We better get rid of it before the sun comes up.”

  “It’s in the back of Jared’s truck. Can you and David and the guys take care of the demon husk?” I asked. We surely did not need this many people to dispose of a body. “Not Ray, though, I need him to look at something,” I added.

  “What in the world could be more important than ditching the guy in the truck?”

  I looked at Jared. “Show them the amulet.”

  He lifted the metal charm from his shirt and held it out. “It has some marks carved into it, but I have no idea what they mean.”

  Ray, our resident expert on dead languages and ancient relics and artifacts, elbowed his way past Olivia. “Let me see,” he said. He pulled an old pair of magnifying eye-loupes from a fanny pack he wore around his waist then slid his frail-looking fingers under the amulet and lifted it away from Jared for a closer look. “Hmmm,” he said. “Uhhmm. Yes. Okay. Yes.” His muttering went on like this for over a minute as the rest of us waited impatiently for his assessment.

  When he finally let the piece go, he shook his head, still muttering unintelligible words, as he took his smartphone from his pack and pulled up his reading app. I knew that Ray’s son, a computer guy, had been helping Ray scan his research books and uploading them to a cloud, but I hadn’t realized he was already using them. He scrolled and pressed and slid and closed and repeated.

  “For heaven’s sake, Ray,” Frank, who was Ray’s life partner, said. “Sometime before we die of old age would be nice.”

  “Okay,” Ray sa
id. “Don’t be a cranky bastard. I’ll get there long before dying happens.”

  Frank grinned. A year earlier Ray had been in chemotherapy for cancer. As of a few weeks ago, he’d been told he was in remission. “So, what did you find?”

  David and Liv had originally met in the late 1950s, and he looked about the same now as he did then, thanks to his angelic bloodline and an angel bargain he’d made. But he still acted like a crotchety old man. “Well, tell us already, you old fool.”

  The four men had been friends for more than sixty years and often bickered like siblings. Usually, I thought it was cute. But right now, I was irritated. I didn’t care one whit about the priority of burying bodies or finding old magicians. I wanted to be alone with Jared and continue to explore our attraction. I only felt a pinch of guilt at my selfish thoughts.

  “Well, I’ll be. It’s one of the seventy-two seals of Goetia.”

  “Can you dumb it down for those of us in the cheap seats?” asked Olivia. There were several nods and murmurs of agreement in the room.

  “You know, the lesser keys of Solomon.”

  We all gave him blank stares.

  “Ars Goetia? Remember?” He sighed. “I send you emails, people. With links. So you can read up on demonology.” Blank stares turned into guilty expressions. Ray rolled his eyes. “Fine. In biblical times King Solomon called up seventy-two demons and bound them in a bronze vessel, where he kept them when he wasn’t using them as servants.

  “If you’re wondering how we figured out silver was bad for demons—it’s because the bronze container, even with its magic spells—couldn’t hold the infernal. So the silver seals were made to trap the demons.”

  “What happened to all the seals?” asked Elise. “Why aren’t they together?”