The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

she prayed didn’t appear as pained as it felt, Clarissa rose from her seat and crossed to the built-in bookshelves. She pretended to be busy searching for a particular tome, using the time to compose herself. “Our celebration had to be postponed, unfortunately. No doubt he’ll be swinging by sometime in the coming week though.” Hopefully. If he hadn’t finally decided that he’d had enough of her.
    The possibility tightened the vise in her chest. She turned back around and met Jemma and Griffin’s all-too-shrewd expressions. Oh shit, had she somehow revealed too much? The last thing she needed was the entire coven knowing about her chaotic emotions where Logan was concerned. She’d never hear the end of it.
    Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she pivoted toward her desk. The clock caught her attention and a splinter of dread pierced her fragile bubble of calm as she took in the time. The rest of her burdens immediately exited stage left as the hour of her judgment glared her in the eye.
    Seven years had come down to this.
    It was time to face her fate.

Chapter Four
    The interior of Tatum’s was exactly as Clarissa remembered. Dark and dingy. Still, a twinge of relief scuttled through her. The dim, smoky gloom provided a modicum of obscurity. Not that she expected her mother to be working the floor tonight. And even if she was, not much chance the woman would race over, ready to dole out a hug and a smile.
    A waitress who appeared to be poured into a slinky black leather halter dress tottered up to the hostess stand in her sky-high platforms. “Here for the band tonight?”
    “No. I’m meeting someone. I don’t think they’re here yet, but can I grab a spot near the back?”
    Responding with a nod, the waitress led Clarissa toward a vacant table a safe distance away from the smoke-filled bar. “We’re expecting a packed house tonight. Might want to put your order in now, before the kitchen gets swamped.”
    She doubted her stomach would agree to the idea of food, but she accepted the grease-splattered menu anyway. Soon as the waitress wobbled off, she ditched the menu and wiped her fingers on the available paper napkin. Obviously Seven chose Tatum’s out of a twisted sense of sentimentality and not because of its two-star luxury.
    Then again, dark, dismal places seemed to be Seven’s preferred hunting ground. Places where oblivion could be found in a bottle—and any soul could be bought for the right price. She was all too familiar with that last reality.
    Leaning back in her seat, she watched the noisy quartet who’d wandered in off the street tromp toward the crowded bar. None of the four appeared to be old enough to drive, much less drink. Still, she doubted Tatum’s was the sort of establishment that looked too closely at their patrons’ drivers licenses.
    “Foolish children, walking straight into the devil’s den.” The melodic, raspy voice managed to crack through the aura of calm Clarissa had so painstakingly worked on for the past twenty minutes, causing her shoulders to jerk. Silently berating her jumpy nerves, she tipped her gaze upward. Seven stood close enough to her chair the immense heat radiating off him nearly scorched the fine hairs on her forearm.
    Truthfully, Seven wasn’t exactly a him . Or even a she . More like a conglomerate of personas that took multiple personality disorder to an extreme new level. The little she had managed to glean during her limited dealings with Seven all those years ago hadn’t shed too much light on the creature’s mysterious origins. To this day, the only thing she knew with absolute certainty was that Seven held an insatiable hunger for one thing above all else.
    Souls.
    Today, the creature wore the trappings of an average, everyday Joe dressed in tailored khakis and a navy polo. She was more acquainted with this personality than the others, although she’d met them all during that harrowing week seven years ago, when she’d hammered out the