Soul Survivor Read Online Free

see Drew.
    My head throbbed and I popped two aspirin in my mouth, downing them with a glass of water. I could still feel the effects of alcohol and the resulting hangover that came with that—though it took a whole lot more alcohol to affect us demons than most humans. While I normally enjoyed the ritual of a hot shower and brushing my teeth in the mornings, after a long night of partying with my friends, I just wanted to be ready without any fuss.
    I shifted into a slim-cut pair of jeans and a scoop-neck T-shirt. My hair was dark blond and a little past my shoulders with soft curls that twisted around each other. Looking in the mirror, I thought better of the outfit. I usually dress conservatively for my job, but I wanted Drew to look at me and drool. I wanted him to remember the body that once knelt over his face. I shifted instead into a halter top that was cut low, revealing impressive cleavage that wasn’t too over the top. The halter tied at the nape of my neck as well as across my lower and middle back. All that kept the shirt in place were three easy-to-untie bows.
    â€œI liked the first outfit better,” a baritone voice said from my bedside and I screamed, reaching for the gun that I kept in my purse.
    â€œToo late,” he said. “You’d already be dead.”
    â€œJulian!” Fucking angels. Sneaky little bastards.
    â€œFor someone who’s got a hit out on her, you’re not so good with being aware of your surroundings.” He was, of course, speaking of the bounty Lexi had mentioned was on my head back when she tried to kill me a few months ago. Hence my gun and holy water bullets. I had definitely been on edge since then, but certainly didn’t want my old mentor to know that.
    â€œIf it’s an angel who’s out to kill me, I’d say I’ve got bigger problems.”
    Jules meandered around my room, walking over to the bookshelf where I kept a few tchotchkes from the various countries and centuries I’ve lived as a succubus. He picked up a scarf my mother had knitted for me in my human days. The wool was so old that it was damn close to being brittle. He turned it over in his hand. With a sigh, I walked over, gently took it from him, and placed it back in its spot on my shelf, running a finger tenderly over my family’s crest knitted into the base.
    â€œWhat is it you want, Jules?”
    He rocked back on his heels, tucking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Just checking in on a friend. Can’t I do that?”
    I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uh-huh.”
    He responded by arching his eyebrows innocently. “What?”
    â€œIt just seems unlikely that you would come here without a specific reason.”
    He said nothing, just stared at me with those intense crystal-blue eyes. After a few more seconds of no response, I sighed and rolled my own baby blues. “Fine, then I’ve gotta get going.”
    â€œWell, there was something. . . .”
    â€œI knew it.”
    â€œI wanted to see if there was any way I could convince you to warm up to Adrienne a little? She’s trying so hard with you.”
    I folded my arms. “Is she, now? Tell me Jules—why is it that you were telling her of my human days? Because for someone who’s ‘trying so hard’ she sure has a funny way of throwing my past in my face.”
    Julian’s chest collapsed, shoulders sagging in the process and he ran a hand over his face, across his blond stubble. His hair was blond, wavy, and tickled his collarbone with a shine that models would envy. “I’m sorry. I thought it would help for her to know.”
    â€œDid she send you to talk to me?”
    He shook his head. “No. Not at all . . .” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “She would never ask for my help in such a personal matter. Is it so much to ask that my oldest friend and my mentee get along?”
    â€œYeah,” I answered brusquely.