The Devil's in the Details Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the downtown Galleria area complete with lots of glassand chrome and thick, plush carpeting), but at least I didn’t have to face early-morning traffic. My commute consisted of walking downstairs and dodging the paperboy who’d yet to perfect his aim.
    I grabbed my purse and a leather satchel—overflowing with everything from leftover programs and netting to a few cans of hair spray—and climbed out of my Nissan Cube. It wasn’t the Beamer of my dreams, but the gas mileage was good and there was plenty of room for the dozens of things I ended up toting to each and every event.
    I was halfway up my front walk when I felt the presence behind me. My skin prickled and awareness rippled through me. Along with a teeny tiny sliver of fear.
    I know, I know. I’m a big, bad, ballsy demon. Evil is my middle name. I shouldn’t spook so easily. But with my hands full and my nerves still buzzing from my up-close encounter with the Legion’s top demon hunter, I was uncharacteristically jumpy.
    All right, so I’m a wuss.
    “I have Mace,” I breathed. “And I’m not afraid to use it.”
    “Easy, Dirty Harry,” came a familiar voice.
    Relief swept through me and I turned to find myself face-to-face with a tall, leggy brunette in three-inch designer pumps, hot-pink shorts, and a white
I Heart Justin Bieber
T-shirt.
    Lucy Damon was my mother’s youngest sister and my favorite relative of all time. Forget murder and mayhem—Aunt Lucy used her powers to design the most amazing shoes and accessories. She was cool and trendy and didn’t give a fig about the power trip Down Under. Even more, she didn’t scare the crap out of me like my other two aunties.
    Usually.
    I arched an eyebrow and eyed her fitted tee. “Isn’t he a little young for you?”
    Her brown eyes danced. “Maybe, but he’s sooooo cute, dontcha think?”
    “In an underage, jailbait sort of way,” I reminded her. I tightened the grip on my satchel. “Shouldn’t you be in New York right now? Dressing models for a runway or something?”
    “My show is next month. Listen, I popped in as soon as I heard the disastrous news.” She reached into the leopard-print Coach slouch hanging from one shoulder. “And I brought reinforcements.” She held out a silver purse attached to a single wrist strap. “Part of my new spring line, launching in thirty-six days and counting.”
    The smell of designer handbag called to me, and my shitty day melted away as I cradled the coveted clutch in my hands. “I love it.”
    “I know it’s not much compared to what you’re going through, but I was hoping it might cheer you up.”
    Mission accomplished. I couldn’t stop smiling for the next nanosecond. Until I felt the uneasy ripple up my spine and the churning in the pit of my stomach. Something bad was brewing, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been plunged right in the middle of it. And that I was sinking.
    My smile faded and I gave my favorite aunt a desperate look. “What am I going to do?”
    “You’re going to stay strong. You can’t let one jackass screw up your entire existence.”
    I glanced overhead, fully expecting to see the star-studded sky crack open. “Um, maybe you should keep your voice down so said jackass doesn’t hear you.”
    “Hey, I call ’em like I see ’em.” She touched a comforting hand to my shoulder. “You’re stronger than this, Jess. Don’t be intimidated. Hold your head high and walk away.”
    “I can’t.”
    She shrugged. “Then get a vibrator.” When I opened my mouth to blurt
been there, done that
she held up a hand. “I know you’re really busy with your career, but sometimes we have to slow down and enjoy ourselves. We’re talking survival, and we females have todo whatever it takes to get through the tough times. That, or I can arrange to have his head chopped off. Or any other body part.”
    O-kay. “What, um, exactly are we talking about?”
    “The whatshisname who dumped you last week.” She patted