Read Getting Familiar with Your Demon: That Old Black Magic, Book 4 for Free Online

lifting a fraction, she started to log off the internet, but as her finger hovered on the mouse she remembered the database the guild kept on the demons they considered especially dangerous. A flicker of guilt fluttered through her. She tamped it down with the assertion that she wasn’t digging for possible information on him. She’d already decided to thrust him out of her mind—as soon as she verified he wasn’t a threat that the guild was keeping tabs on.
    Gnawing on her thumbnail, she pulled up the official website for the International Alliance of Witches and logged into the classified Members Only section. With a little surfing, she found the correct registry and scrolled through the archived listings. Her heart plummeted to her toes when she spotted the name Gorasola. She stared at the big, bold, red letters, willing them to mutate into something else.
    They didn’t.
    Her stomach shaky, she clicked on the link.
    Samael Gorasola, age unknown, soul collector and former personal familiar to Antoinette Delacroix. Considered an extreme threat and danger to society. If encountered, proceed with care and caution.
    There were a few more lines of text, but her vision had become too wonky to interpret any of it. She swallowed hard, trying to defeat a wave of nausea. This was a million times worse than anything she might have cooked up in her wildest imaginings. Bad enough she’d gotten hot and bothered over a demon. She’d lusted for a contract killer.

Chapter Five
     
    “Oh yes, right there. Ahhhh , that thing you’re doing with your tongue…don’t you dare stop.” A throaty moan purred from his rescuer while his head bobbed between her thighs.
    He murmured an incoherent reply into her slick flesh. Fuck, she tasted delicious. Intoxicating. The most forbidden sweet fruit with the distinct undertone of…fabric softener?
    Sam jerked awake and spit out a mouthful of his pillowcase. For devil’s sake. He was so hard up he’d resorted to performing oral sex on his bedding.
    Speaking of hard…
    Moving gingerly, he flopped onto his back and willed away his erection. He’d certainly experienced plenty of low moments in his life, but this had to rank in the top ten. Crooking an arm over his eyes, he listened to the steady whir of the ceiling-fan blades. Just as he was beginning to drift off to sleep, the obnoxious shriek of the smoke alarm broke his bubble of relaxation. He jolted. His left eye twitching, he shoved aside the tangle of sheets and leapt off the mattress. At the last second, he remembered to tug on a pair of sweats. He hiked them in place and raced to the kitchen. Skidding to a halt in the entry, he spotted Nikki furiously beating the smoke detector with the handle of a broomstick. By the time she was done with it, the unit dangled limply from the ceiling by two wires like a defeated opponent who’d gone three rounds with Mike Tyson.
    “For fuck’s sake.” Growling, Sam grabbed the detector and twisted the cover off. He detached the batteries and the shrill buzzing puttered to a sickly drone before falling silent.
    Nikki leaned on the broom and grunted. “Huh, so that’s how you shut the stupid thing off.”
    His fist tightening around the batteries, he stalked to the kitchen counter and yanked open the miscellaneous-crap drawer. He pitched the batteries inside and choked on a strangled cough when the awful stench he’d been too busy to notice hit him full blast. Jerking his focus to the stove, he spied a frying pan holding the charcoaled remains of…something. One of the few spatulas he owned was half melted to the burner. What the hell? His patience at an all-time low, he held his breath, crossed to the sink and cranked open the window situated above it. A breeze stirred through, scattering the acrid scent blanketing the kitchen.
    He awarded Nikki a baleful glare. “Is there a reason you’re murdering my appliances and utensils?”
    “I was making breakfast. Except I’m not very good at