Dancing With The Devil, Witches Anonymous Step 5

Chapter One – Law of Rebound





Having been Lucifer’s right-hand witch for seven years, I can tell you there are three elements necessary for proper Devil worship: an evil witch, a propensity for evil spell-casting, and, of course, the help of the Devil himself.

When I say “help”, I mean the kind where he infuses your body, mind and soul with full-on wickedness. Oh, yeah. That kind of help is the whipped topping on the whole evil hot-fudge sundae.

So when it came to proper Devil worship, I, Amy Atwood, was at the head of the class. Evil witch with a proclivity for casting evil spells and a Devil-take-me-to-Hell attitude? I received an A-plus in every subject.

But even wicked witches believe in the Law of Rebound. You know the one that states you reap what you sow? Witches, Wiccans, Pagans, Christians…ninety-nine percent of us believe what you do to others comes back to you, only with more force.

With my past, odds are, I’m headed for a fall of giant cauldron-size proportions.

Since I joined Witches Anonymous—going magic-free in the process—I’ve been hoping for a reprieve. At the very least, a lighter sentence. Because if what goes around comes around, I’m going to need more than Lucifer’s help to deal with the fallout. I’m going to need God’s.

Yeesh.

New Year’s seemed like the perfect time to tackle Step Five of the Witches Anonymous thirteen-step program. A new year, a new outlook on my relationship with Luc. It was time to knock this step off my list—admitting all the wrongs I’d committed and to whom—and move on.

Problem was, it was a damn long list.

The other problem being that I was required by WA rules to admit all these wrongs and those I’d committed them against to my mentor. Technically my mentor was an angel named Cephiel who posed as Father Leonard, a priest at Immaculate Conception. Since he’d probably stroke out over the exact nature of the Devil-inspired wrongs and lecture me endlessly about turning my soul over to God, I wasn’t exactly rocking the confessional. The Devil made me do it excuse wouldn’t pass muster with Ceph.

To add to my predicament, Lucifer was waiting for me in my apartment when I got home from work on New Year’s Eve. The sight of him made my heart speed up. My chest felt lighter. The magic securely contained behind reinforced prison bars next to my heart purred.

He had that look in his eyes. The look that said we were going to do a bit of New Year’s Eve celebrating before the official party at my friend Keisha’s place.

Luc slid up to me and took the boxed ice cream cake out of my hands. “Mm mm. You smell like a banana split.” His lips nuzzled my neck right below my ear. “And I’m hungry, witch.”

Damn. I was hungry too. A hunger pain squeezed my lower stomach. Okay, fine, it was lust. My skin tingled where Luc’s hot breath touched my neck. The sensation ran all the way to my toes. They curled ever so slightly in my boots even though my feet were killing me from a long day of taking end-of-the-year inventory. “It’s the ice cream cake,” I stammered. “My latest concoction is a cross between a banana split and a brownie.”

I lived above my business, Evie’s Ice Cream Shop, and I’d promised Keisha I’d bring a dish to her party. Since I suck at cooking, baking and, well…everything, I offered to bring ice cream. My prowess for whipping up extraordinary treats is akin to my A+ in Devil worship. I excel at it. Everything else? Well, let’s just say, it sucks to be me.

Except when it comes to casting spells. If your neighbor has loud parties and parks on your grass, I can make a sink hole open under his house. Got a cheating boyfriend? I can give him a flesh-eating disease that only attacks certain, ahem, body parts.

And if you’re the Devil and need a lover to broker deals on souls? I’m your witch.

Or at least, I used to be. Now I’m good.

Sort of.

I’m trying, anyway.

Luc breathed deep, grazing my cheek with his lips as he brought his face in front of mine. The hand not holding the box wrapped behind my neck as he stared me in the eyes. A lock of hair tumbled across his forehead, making him look carefree and debonair. The heat coming off his body would melt the cake and me if I didn’t move away.

But I didn’t want to move.

“Kiss me,” I said, ready to get this party started.

He lowered his lips, and just like always, my world tipped sideways and the floor under my feet seemed to rise and fall like I was riding a wave. You want to talk connection…we had it in spades. Always had.

Hence, my problem.

His tongue teased my lips open and I sighed, giving him complete access to my mouth. He licked my lower lip and my inner bad girl did a fist pump. My fingers curled around the soft cotton of his long sleeve T-shirt and I drew him closer, deepening the kiss.