Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) by Eliza Hendrix (best motivational books to read TXT) 📗

time we’re wasting. I’m prepared to tell her to speed things up a bit, but Zerachu’s face changes abruptly, and I’m left speechless.

Her cracked bottom lip quivers and her eyes water.

She reaches for the crystal pendant around her neck and raises it to her lips. “Rest in love and light, my dear sister.”

Chapter 8

──────────

“My great-aunt?” Rachel blurts out.

She’s so loud about it that Drax flinches, sending the TV’s remote hurling through the air.

“This… this is amazing,” she says, now pacing across the hotel room. “I mean, didn’t you say she’s the most powerful witch, like, ever? And how do I have a great-aunt? Grandma never talked about having a sister.”

It’s hard to feel happy about Rachel’s discovery after the verbal beating I received.

“The Great Witch wants you to go see her at midnight,” I say coldly.

“To train me?” she asks.

I’ve never seen Rachel this happy about anything before. Cracking open a bottle of beer, I shrug with one shoulder. “Something like that.”

Although Zerachu agreed to coach Rachel on her magical abilities, the real reason she wants to see her is to get an understanding of what happened and to secure the book. As it turns out, Celeste—Rachel’s grandmother—cast a protective spell so powerful around the book and her home that no one could determine the book’s location for centuries.

I’m the idiot who came along and removed it from their home.

I don’t bother going into detail with Rachel about her grandmother’s real age, because it’s irrelevant. One thing matters—how fast the book’s protection spell is fading. Zerachu described it as a bit like an onion inside a coconut—the magic itself, or the onion, has layers upon layers, while the exterior shell protects the bulk of it.

The combination of Celeste’s death and my removal of the book from their protected home was equivalent to destroying the coconut shell altogether. All that’s left now are layers, and with every passing day, the magic wears off. Unfortunately for Rachel—and for all of us—those layers were damaged even more when Lucius’s goons came looking for me, inadvertently causing Rachel to freak out, summon a griffin, and get the book torn in half.

“Is only a matter of days before zhe entire earthly dimension comes searching for da book,” Zerachu told me moments ago.

At midnight, it’s imperative that Rachel gets her ass down to the Red Lounge to meet her great-aunt.

“Bring your half book with you,” I tell Rachel.

“Is that safe?” she asks, clutching it tight against her chest.

“If Zerachu’s involved, yes, it’s safe.” I chug my beer in one shot and crack open another. “She’d take it from you if she could, but she can’t. Your grandma’s spell somehow connected it to her bloodline. Well, her descendant bloodline, anyway. So that means you.”

“Well, it would have been my mom if she had any interest in magic,” Rachel says.

“Does she even know you do magic?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m careful to hide it from her.”

“If you’re so careful,” I say, “then how the hell are you all the way out here in Vegas? You’re telling me your mom hasn’t realized you’re gone? And what about school?”

Behind her, Riskus lets out a loud squeal, jumps up on the couch, and smacks Drax with a cushion. Drax raises his arms to protect himself, but Riskus keeps beating on him.

I cock an eyebrow.

“Riskus doesn’t like it when people change the channel,” Rachel says.

“Would you chill?” Drax says, now trying to shoulder the little demon off of him.

Rachel lets out a sharp whistle and Riskus stops his cushion swinging midair, his back rounded and his eyes so bulged he looks like an amphibian. Grumbling something, he slouches, crosses his bony arms, and plops himself down beside Drax.

“And how the hell has your mom never seen him?” I add.

“Like I said,” Rachel says. “I’m careful. He always hides. And besides, I took precautions before I left.”

The smirk on her face tells me she played with magic again.

I can’t help but glare at her. “What did you do?”

She shrugs like she’s hiding some big secret, but it’s obvious she’s proud of whatever it is she’s done. “I cloned myself.”

My jaw drops and Riskus claps like he’s at a New York City Broadway show.

“It worked!” he squeals. “Worked well!”

“You’re telling me…” I pause because the idea is so insane that I have to let it sink in. “You’re telling me you have a lookalike walking around to hide the fact that you’re not home?”

Still grinning, Rachel nods. “It took fourteen tries, but I finally got it right.”

I’m not sure whether to praise her or slap her. The girl plays with magic spells like they’re nothing more than cool party tricks. I’ve seen a lot of magic mishaps, and some of that shit can’t be undone.

“And is this clone physical, or is it a projection—” Realizing this can’t wait, I wave a hand in front of my face. “You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter. Go see Zerachu and she’ll give you all the shit you need.”

“I thought you said she was my great-aunt. Why would she give me shit?”

I snort. “You haven’t met the witch.”

She gives me a disgusted look that tells me she’s unconvinced a long-lost family member could be mean to her. We’ll see. Or at least, she will.

Turning away, I toss my empty beer bottle onto one of the couch cushions. “Riskus, clean up my empties.”

Rachel’s brows almost touch each other. “He isn’t your slave—”

“I’m paying for this room, so I make the rules. Everyone in here has to contribute, and I say Riskus is responsible for cleaning up my empties.”

Rachel’s about to protest, so I grab my new leather jacket I stole from a blackjack table, step out,