Resting Witch Face (Journals of Forbidden Witchery Book 1) by Maya Daniels

Author:Maya Daniels [Daniels, Maya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

10

Okay, so I couldn’t really beat the shit out of the demon.

That became obvious the moment I reached the apartment door after rushing up the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. First, the said door was leaning sideways like a drunk sailor holding onto the frame by the top hinge. Smears of something black were smudged on both sides of the hallway, and a rancid stench potent enough to peel paint off drywall wafted from the apartment. Sulfur and the heavy odor from black demon magic made the air so thick and heavy it was almost tangible.

Second, the demon had a buddy who blocked the doorway and was staring me down with red, glowing peepers. Even without the whole dramatic flair from the red eyes, it was easy to recognize what type of demon I was dealing with. The beautiful woman in front of me that belonged on the cover of a magazine rather than blocking a doorway, with murder written on her pretty face, could’ve passed for human if she wasn’t being a drama llama, but the backward hands were a dead giveaway to a witch like me. Her silky red dress clung to her body like a second skin, pushing her boobs to her chin, and her platinum hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid silver while she pursed her lips and eyed me up and down, finding me lacking most probably.

Rakshasa demons had those backward hands to help them in hand-to-hand combat because the attacks usually came from unusual and unexpected angles, confusing their opponent until they ripped them to shreds or syphoned their soul. They also changed into animals or nightmarish monsters in a very different way from shifters. Rakshasa needed a ready body to jump into—no matter if she found it lacking or not—if they wanted to change, hence the soul sucking thing they had going on. That gave me my main priority.

I had to make sure my body was not used as a meat suit.

Blindly running into a situation was never a smart idea—there was a lesson there somewhere I was sure—but I wanted to reach the place before River and Sissily. The two witches in question were thumping up the stairs already, and I had too much suppressed anger to wait until they caught up with me. Backward hands or not, I was prepared to face a Rakshasa demon. Maybe not two of them, but one for sure. I even had a practice dummy in my basement, which I dismembered by placing the hands backward so I could train myself for this specific situation.

“It’s rude not to invite me in when I rushed to get here,” I told the demon, and the bitch smiled, a toothy grin displaying two overlapping rows of sharp teeth like a damn shark under her pouty red lips. “And I’ll need the number of your dentist. It’s hard to reach that perfection of white these days.”

“Why don’t you come closer, witch?” My palm itched to slap myself for waving my hand at her because she saw the pentagram tattoo on my forefinger.

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