Shamelessly Spellbound (Spells That Bind Book 2) Read Free

most annoying warlock in the world, the one I couldn’t
stop thinking about. It felt surprisingly good to tell someone the truth.
    “It looks like our time is about up,” my therapist said when
I’d finished my long rant. “Before our next appointment, I want you to spend
some time thinking about whether your trust issues play a bigger role in your
avoidance of warlocks.”
    “You heard what I can do,” I argued.
    “And I know your father is more dangerous than you, yet he’s
managed to bond with your mother,” my therapist pointed out, and I hated him a
little for being honest.
    “Fine,” I said with a resigned sigh. “I’ll think about what
you said before next week. Can I go now?”
    “I do have one question before we wrap things up,” my demon
shrink replied.
    “What’s that?”
    “I noticed your condo is in a human complex,” he began. “I’m
wondering how you managed to get a permit to keep a California condor there.”
    I snorted, not at all surprised that a demon would ask a
question about the law. “Even though it’s technically a human community, the
HOA is run by witches,” I explained. “Aren’t you guys usually lawyers or IRS
agents?”
    With eager puppy dog eyes, my therapist nodded. “Oh, yes, we
do love the law. After I failed the bar exam for the third time, Uncle Lucifer
got me an internet degree in psychology from Oxford, and here I am.” He
motioned to his lavish office.
    Cautiously, I asked, “Oxford has an internet degree
program?”
    “The Oxford School of Law and Agriculture has one of the
finest online programs in the Midwest.” He smiled proudly as he waved a dismissive
hand toward his degree hanging from the wall. “Do you think I’m doing a good
job?” Only a demon can give you a look that is fearful of rejection and eager
to have an excuse to rip out your heart. I’m sure I’d give people that same
look if I gave a fuck about impressing anyone.
    This was one of those times I was glad my honest answer was
positive, since I’m not known for lying to spare people’s feelings. When you’re
answering Lucifer’s nephew, giving an honest answer he won’t like could be a
bad idea.
    “You’re doing great,” I assured him.
    “I want you to keep a feelings journal,” he told me.
    “Feelings journal?” I asked, trying to hide my annoyance.
    His head bobbed up and down. “Yes. I want you to get in
touch with your feelings. Go ahead and make an appointment with my receptionist
for next week. I can’t wait to hear what you put in your journal.”
    And just like that, he lost me. I was beginning to think
therapy wasn’t my thing.

Chapter Two
Melina
    In the waiting room, I found Mr. Whiskers cuddling with a
teen zombie. Zombie wasn’t the politically correct term. I’d been lectured on
the importance of respecting the undead by a necromancer who’d worked on Night
High two seasons back. Technically, the kid was a reanimated corpse,
meaning a necromancer had cast a spell soon after his death to bind his soul to
his body. That necromancer’s magic was the only thing keeping the kid alive.
Reanimated corpses hated the term zombie since it implied they were stupid and
dangerous. To the best of my knowledge, there’d never been any major killing
sprees by reanimated corpses, and they didn’t crave human flesh. Actually,
reanimated corpses were strictly vegan.
    The kid was petting a purring Mr. Whiskers, looking somewhat
lost. Most probably wouldn’t notice he was undead. He looked like many of the
other teens I saw on the street. He had longish hair dyed a hideous shade of
green. His skin had likely been pale before he’d died, but he still had a hint
of pink to his cheeks. Sadly, that color wouldn’t last long. Humans would think
he looked sickly, while those in the preternatural community would call him the
undead kid , because most people were assholes. Reanimated corpses weren’t
the only undead, but they did get the least respect. Ironically, the kid