Page 20 of My Blind Date is a Demon

“I don’t,” I say quickly. “She’s just…getting on my nerves. If we have to be stuck together, she could at least be a little less miserable to be around.”

“Maybe you could help her,” Beverly suggests.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m just a lowly human. What do I know about the powers of demons? Maybe getting a human woman to forget her long-dead lover is a bit too much for you to handle.”

My fingers turn into claws and I drive them clear through her counter. “Be careful, witch,” I say, my voice low, gravelly, and demonic. A voice that would cause most humans to wet themselves. Beverly, though, doesn’t bat an eyelash as she waves her little finger and puts her counter back together again.

“Whatever you say, Damon,” she says sweetly. “Now, as for your little problem. I’ve been working out the different possible meanings of Bella’s spell.”

“What do you mean different possible meanings?” I ask in my human voice.

“Well, translation is more an art than a science,” she says. “And the placements of the words in the spell, along with the hand movements she used and the symbol she drew on the cookie jar, all those elements can mean different things. Add to it that Bella is a child and that she was terrified out of her mind and, well, we can’t know exactly how her spell worked or how to break it.”

I run my hand over my face in frustration. “How did this even happen? She is a child. How could she overpower me?” Beverly cocks an eyebrow again. “I don’t mean that as an act of bravado. I really want to know.” I try to give her a sincerely pleading look. “How did this happen?”

She shakes her head. “Bella is a promising student. But she’s not of any particularly powerful bloodline. Both her parents were human, so her powers aren’t being amplified by mixing supernatural blood. She doesn’t even attend Mystic Cove Academy for the Arts, the new witchcraft school here in town. She is a perfectly average witch. So, how she did it, I have no idea. You’d have to ask The Dark Lord about that.”

“I’ve been trying,” I say. “It appears that in my current state, I am unable to communicate with the demon realm. I cannot even contact my cohorts.”

“Hmm. That is a problem,” Beverly says. “Can you access your powers at all?”

You tell me, I ask her telepathically.

“Get out of there,” she says, waving her hand like she’s batting away a bug. “So, you at least have that going for you.”

“What is this book telling you?” I ask. “What have you learned so far?”

“She bound you to the jar, I know that much,” Beverly says. “And the jar is bound to Tamzin, as I already suspected.”

“None of that is new information.”

“Okay, smart guy,” Beverly says. “How about this? Most binding spells of this type can only be broken when one person’s goal is fulfilled.”

“My goal was to possess and torture Tamzin,” I say. “So, I still have to find a way to do that? It will be impossible in this form.”

“Hence the problem,” Beverly says. “It could be that Tamzin has some goal or destiny that needs to be fulfilled. But humans are dreadfully slow when it comes to fulfilling their potential. For some, it takes a lifetime.”

“What if we discover the origin of the curse in the first place?” I ask. “If the person who sent me to possess and torture Tamzin undoes the curse, could I then be set free?”

“It’s possible,” Beverly says. “I guess it is one avenue to explore. If it fails, we can always move on to something else. Does Tamzin know who would want to curse her like that?”

“No idea,” I say. “She said something last night. Or, she thought it. Something about whoever hurts her, hurts Tamzin, would also be hurting Bella. So, it can’t be someone who loves Bella. I’m guessing she means any of Bella’s extended family.”

“What do you mean, she thought it?”

I shrug.

“You’ve been reading Tamzin’s thoughts?”

“Hey, I cannot communicate with the demon realm. I’m bored.”

“Shame! Shame on you!” Beverly says, shaking a finger at me. “You had better stop that right now, or else I’ll curse you myself.”

“Okay, okay. Wow, human women are so testy.”

“You haven’t seen me get testy, little one,” Beverly says, rolling up her sleeves.

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