Read The Devil's in the Details for Free Online

my shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’ve all been there, honey.”
    “No one dumped me last week.”
    “But I got a text this morning saying there’d been a bad breakup.” She seemed to think. “Come to think of it, maybe it was your cousin Tess.” She shrugged. “She was probably texting while driving again. Last month I got a message that she was rescheduling her well-woman appointment. Meanwhile, the Women’s Health Group over on Louisiana got an invite to a Slutty Susie party she was having at her apartment.” She eyed me, her dark eyes soft and concerned. “So if it isn’t a man who has you looking like you want to throw yourself into the nearest carton of ice cream, who is it?”
    “Ma.” I lowered my voice, ready to deliver the devastating news. “She’s getting married.”
    Lucy rolled her eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
    “She wants total control.”
    “More power to her.” She shrugged. “I barely have time to eat, much less worry over a bunch of greedy demons who don’t listen anyway.”
    “That’s not the worst of it. She wants me to plan the wedding, which means”—I swallowed, desperate to push down the lump rising in my throat—“we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Practically every day.”
    Horror flashed in her gaze and a strangled cry escaped her full lips.
    No, wait, that cry came from
me
.
    A second later, I found myself smothered by Justin Bieber as Aunt Lucy pulled me close for a fierce hug. “I’m so sorry,”she said, and meant it. That was the thing about Aunt Lucy. She hugged and she cared. Two things my mother and my other aunties would never understand. Not that Aunt Lucy bothered explaining herself to her sisters. She didn’t care what they thought. She did her own thing and, more importantly, she was happy doing it.
    Her phone beeped and the hug ended.
    “Sorry sweetie, I have to take this.” She spent the next thirty seconds reading a very long text before sliding the phone back into her leopard-print bag and giving me an apologetic smile. “I’ve got to run.”
    I cradled the cute little clutch for a few moments before forcing myself to hand it back over. “Don’t forget the purse for Tess.”
    She waved me off. “You keep it. I think you need it a lot more than she does.”
    I grinned and watched her body shimmer and fade into the surrounding darkness.
    Most demons utilize the usual modes of transportation in this realm because zapping in and out requires a lot of power that they simply don’t have. Demon juice is a cumulative thing that grows over the years, meaning the older the demon, the more gas in the tank. Since my aunt Lucy is older than dirt, she cashed in the frequent flier miles in favor of popping in every now and then.
    I drew a deep, steadying breath, turned, and headed for my front door.
    I
could
do this, I told myself. I had a good friend in my corner. A terrific aunt pulling for me. And even more, I had my very own new preseason, couture clutch.
    I could pull this whole thing off
and
get my mom off my back.
    The confidence lasted for a few minutes, until I walked into my bathroom. Then doubt screamed in my head. Literally. My gaze hooked on the mirror and the words smeared in red.
    You’re in over your head,
    Back off now or you’re dead.
    The air rushed from my lungs and cold horror slid through me. A sharp, pungent scent tickled my nostrils. Blood. The message was written in
blood
. AB negative, to be specific.
    I quickly became aware of the closed shower curtain behind me and the possibility that whoever had scribbled the worst poetry I’d ever read (and I’d been a huge Walt Whitman fan back in the day) could still be here.
    Yeah, and you just ran smack-dab into her.
    Aunt Lucy?
    I drop-kicked the thought as soon as it struck. She would never,
ever
do such a thing. Forget death and destruction. She was the anti-auntie. The one shining light in the darkness. The demon of designer