Demons Don't Always Tell The Truth (Kate Storm Series Book 3) Read Online Free

and tugged upward.
    "Time to go."
    Morgan snatched up her martini glass clutching it close. I leaned forward and took a cautionary sniff.
    She definitely hadn't added anything to her blood.
    We left the bar, Morgan following me to my car in the parking lot behind Got Fangs?. Lolly had continued the Goth theme into the parking lot by not adding light bulbs to three of the four light posts.
    The HC have very few fears, if any. They're immortal. If the boogeyman shows up he's more than likely a relative or a friend.
    The parking lot gave me the creeps.
    I opened the door to my bright yellow Mini Cooper. Morgan leaned casually against the side, draining the last of her blood.
    We didn't say anything. The night calm with the evening chill just settling in.
    Morgan sighed heavily. I didn't have to look at her to know the haunted look was returning. She hid it well most of the time, but it seemed the moment she relaxed, the past came back with a vengeance.
    My Duck and Dodge routine is a totally inherited trait.
    Morgan had been running from her past for so long, it was as if she had made herself into a new being completely. She hadn't faced the truth of it when she'd tracked me down. Drake's re-entry into her life had forced the showdown.
    Old damaged Morgan versus capable has-her-shit together Morgan.
    It was a fight I hated to see.
    She'd always been the strong one in our friendship.
    "I'll talk to you later, Kate." Morgan handed me the empty martini glass and flew off.
    Now it was my turn to be the strong one. I couldn't hold onto my anger if I was going to help her.
    She's my aunt and my UDBF.
    My life would be less without her.

 
    3. Hot Demons and More Secrets.
     
    I was still ruminating over how to help Morgan and myself as I pulled up to the curb in front of my apartment. I turned off the ignition and slammed my door shut.
    I hate ruminating.
    I, personally, don't find it helpful.
    Then again my ruminating tends to follow the lines of: How am I going to help Morgan? I don't know. I have to get over my anger with Morgan. How? I don't know.
    Sort of a frustrating and not very helpful circle.
    Like I said, I don't find ruminating to be helpful.
    "You're home early. Girl's night a bust?" Big Al yawned as he met me at the door. I held it open for him as he came out and we went downstairs together.
    "Sort of." I pretended to look for something in my purse as he did his business. "Morgan wanted to sing karaoke and I didn't."
    I didn't mention the Big Issue. I figured if my ruminating wasn't going to be helpful, my Chihuahua wasn't going to be either.
    "Why not? Karaoke's a blast."
    My mouth dropped and my head whipped up. Luckily, Al had finished what he needed to do and was sniffing a small branch.
    The hit-man liked karaoke?
    I tried to picture it, but in my mind his gun holster kept hitting the microphone stand. The gargoyles were bad enough, but Al? Singing?
    Nope. I didn't want to know.
    "What do you like to sing?" Okay. Fine. I had to know.
    "Sinatra. Dean Martin." Now that I could see. Mob related singers. Made sense for a New Jersey mafia hit-man to like those guys. It just took me back that Al liked to sing.
    I've never heard him sing.
    "AC/DC. Garth Brooks."
    My mouth dropped again. "Garth Brooks?"
    Big Al blinked brown, moist, bulging eyes up at me. "Doll, I've got lots of friends in low places."
    I snickered.
    "By the way," Al tossed over his tiny shoulder as he preceded me up the stairs. "The phone's been ringin' off and on all night."
    Odd. If it was important, everyone I knew had my cell number.
    I opened the front door and Al headed down the short hall into the kitchen.
    My apartment consists of five rooms, and like I said, all of them are tiny. I have one euphemistically entitled second bedroom to the left of the hall which fits my desk and a bookshelf.
    On the other side is my living room. It hosts my new couch - I have a bill written up for Bigfoot if I ever run into her again - a coffee table, a couple chairs