Wicked Pleasure Read Online Free Page B

up. Kim closed her mouth and waited for his response to that bit of hysteria.
    He narrowed his eyes as he studied Fo. Fo studied him right back. “What happens if I press this button?” He indicated the red Destroy button.
    â€œNot much. A little noise, a little light. Pretty harmless.” Unless you’re a demon. “The whole thing’s a gag. I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
    She reached for Fo and then watched in horror as his finger hovered over the red button. The demon-destroying beam would get him right in the face. It wouldn’t kill a human, but it would blind him for about a half hour. She didn’t need to start her new job with him clutching his face and accusing her of trying to kill him.
    Kim ripped Fo from his fingers. “It was great meeting you, but it’s chilly standing out here.” She clicked Fo shut and put the detector back into her pocket.
    She refused to meet his gaze, but Kim sensed his amusement . . . and something more, something darker.
    â€œWhen you’re ready to go in, just press that button, and someone will greet you.” He pointed to a button beside the doors. “Welcome to the Castle of Dark Dreams, Kim.” Then he turned and strode away.
    Bemused, she watched him until he disappeared in the darkness, and then she reached for the doorbell.
    â€œWould you like a brochure, dearie?” The voice behind her said, senior citizen with a capital S.
    Kim gave a startled squeak and leaped away from the door. Okay, so with everything that had happened tonight she had a right to be jumpy. She turned to meet the sharp gaze of a walking stereotype.
    The woman looked old. Very old. Her white hair was short with waves that marched across her head in perfect order. Small wireframed glasses perched on the end of her nose. A round face, faded blue eyes, a small mouth, and many many wrinkles completed the picture of everybody’s grandmother.
    Trouble was, Kim’s grandmother didn’t look like this. Grandma was slim, trim, and stylish, with great hair. She’d threatened to give all her money to cat charities unless her family promised to make sure when they laid her out that no gray roots showed and that she had fresh highlights. Grandma wasn’t going to knock on the pearly gates looking like a night hag.
    Kim glanced down at the brochure the woman held out to her. The grandma image continued. White cardigan, baggy, flowered dress that showed the tops of knee-highs when the wind caught the edges of her skirt, and black, chunky shoes.
    Kim took the brochure because she didn’t want to insult the woman. “Thanks.”
    The woman smiled at Kim. It was a prim smile. “I’m Miss Abby. Taught first grade for thirty-five years here in Galveston. Kids’ll either kill you or make you stronger. I got stronger. When I retired, I started my own business. Ye Olde Victorian Wedding Chapel. I’ll marry you in style.”
    What to say? “Umm, I don’t think—”
    â€œThat’s the trouble today, youngsters don’t think. Keep the brochure. You never know when you might meet the perfect young man and want to hitch up with him in a hurry. In my day, young ladies didn’t just up and marry someone fast unless they were in a family way. But times change.” Her expression said not for the better.
    Family way? Who said things like that nowadays? “I guarantee I won’t be needing a wedding chapel.” Not unless Mr. Ordinary popped out of the castle wall.
    The woman waved at her. “Keep the brochure. Pass it on if you can’t use it.” She walked past Kim. “I have to leave a pile of them in the lobby. Get a lot of business from the castle.”
    Strange. Miss Abby’s walk was a lot more chipper than the rest of her. But a faint squeaking distracted Kim from Miss Abby’s walk. Birds? Not at night. “Do you hear a squeaking noise?”
    Miss Abby glanced back