Read The Outlaw Demon Wails for Free Online

something. My lips parted and I looked at Jenks, then to the counter where the college-age kid managed the customers with a professional polish. This was it! I thought in a surge of recognition. This was the same coffeehouse where Ivy, Jenks, and I had agreed to quit the I.S. and work as independent runners! But Junior looked like he knew what he wasdoing now, sporting a manager tag on his red-and-white-striped apron and with several underlings to handle the nastier parts of running the place.
    â€œHey, Rache,” Jenks said as he dropped down to dust my sweater with gold. “Isn’t this the store we—”
    â€œYup,” I interrupted him, not wanting Minias to be privy to more of my life than necessary. The demon was unfolding a paper napkin and meticulously settling it across a jeans-clad knee as if it were silk. Unease flowed through me as I remembered the night I decided to leave the I.S. Going clueless into an independent bounty hunter/escort service/jack-of-all-magical-trades runner service with a vamp had been one of the most stupid and best decisions of my life. It went along with Ivy and Jenks’s opinion that I lived my life to find the edge of disaster so I could feel the rush of adrenaline.
    Maybe I had once, but not anymore. Believing I had killed Jenks and Ivy with one of my stunts had cured me one hundred percent, and Kisten’s death had slammed the lesson home, hard. And to prove it, I wasn’t going to work with Minias no matter what he offered. I wouldn’t repeat the past. I could change my patterns of behavior. I would. Starting here. Watch me.
    â€œCoffee up!” the kid shouted, and Minias took his napkin from his lap as if he was going to rise.
    â€œI’ll get it,” I said, wanting to minimize his interactions with everyone.
    Minias eased down without a fuss. I gathered myself to stand, then frowned. I didn’t want to leave him with my mother either.
    â€œOh, for God’s sake,” my mother said, standing to drop her purse loudly on the table. “I’ll get it.”
    Minias touched her arm, and I bristled. “If you would, Alice, bring the cinnamon with you?” he asked, and my mother nodded, slowly pulling from his fingers. She was holding her arm when she walked away, and I leaned toward Minias.
    â€œDon’t touch my mother,” I threatened, feeling better when Jenks took an aggressive stance on the table, his wings clattering menacingly.
    â€œSomeone needs to touch her,” Minias said dryly. “She hasn’t been touched in twelve years.”
    â€œShe doesn’t need to be touched by you.” I leaned back with my armscrossed over my middle. My gaze went to my mother, who was flirting in an old-lady way with the counter kid, and I paused. She hadn’t remarried when Dad died, hadn’t even dated. I knew she intentionally dressed herself to look older than she was to keep men at a distance. With the right haircut and dress, we could pass as big sister, little sister. As a witch, her life span was a good hundred and sixty years, and while most witches waited until they were sixty before starting a family, she had had Robbie and me very early in her life, giving up a promising career to raise us first. Maybe we were accidents. Passion babies.
    That brought a smile to my face, and I forced it away when I noticed Minias watching me. I straightened as my mom approached with a canister of cinnamon and her plate of cheesecake; the kid behind the counter was following with the rest. “Thank you, Mark,” she said as he placed everything on the table and backed up a step. “You’re a sweet boy.”
    I smiled at Mark’s sigh. Clearly he wasn’t happy with the title. He glanced at me, then Jenks, his eyes brightening. “Hey,” he said as he tucked the tray under his arm. “I think I’ve seen you somewhere….”
    I cringed. Most times people recognized me, it was from