A Demon And His Witch Read Online Free Page A

Surprising, I know . He never thought that would happen. But truly, he’d come to realize, all females were the same in the end; same to please, same to scream, same to drive him nuts. So why continue with the headache that came with juggling several?
    Why, he might even settle down with one lucky female and pop out a demon spawn or two. He snorted at the thought. Let’s not get crazy here. Deciding to bed one female at a time was one thing, at one hundred and four years, he was still kind of young to be thinking of starting a family, even if a lot of his buddies seemed to have jumped into that particular hot pan. And happily, too.
    Remy couldn’t imagine wanting to consign himself to a life with one female, because while fooling around as a single man with more than one lucky lady was accepted, once a demon decided to start a family and bind himself into their version of matrimony, cheating was out of the question – if he wanted to keep his balls intact. Demon wives took a strict stance on cheating, and abetted by other wives, and even mothers, made sure the males didn’t cross that line – or else. Knowing that, it was a wonder to him any man every chose to mate with one female.
    It’s probably some kind of insanity that grips them when they get to a certain age. Or a spell. Lucky for him, Remy had a resistance to magical attacks on his person.
    Arriving at the vestibule for Lucifer’s secretary, he gave his name to the shriveled crone manning the desk. Ugly, old, misshapen, and possessed of an odd smell, rumor said Gaia herself chose the woman for the position after Lucifer’s last secretary came to work one too many times in sheer blouses, braless of course. Last he heard, the blonde bimbo, who’d given more than one demon in the ranks a wild ride, was on latrine duty for the women’s prison. It didn’t pay to piss off his Lord’s on again, off again, girlfriend.
    Hey, I wonder if I can get any clues on whether he’s going to pop the question to his old lady. A great amount of betting currently existed in all the nine circles based on when their Lord would finally get the guts to ask Gaia to marry him. Remy had several paychecks riding on his date of August thirteenth, two thousand thirteen, a date that fast approached and with nary a jeweler claiming credit for an engagement ring design at this point.
    While he waited to be admitted to his Lord’s inner sanctum, he looked around, noting the closed door with the gold embossed title, ‘Satan’s Assistant,’ and etched underneath, ‘Go Away.’ With that kind of welcoming attitude, he counted himself lucky he’d never come face to face with his boss’s damned soul relations manager. He’d heard the terms harridan, witch, bitch, along with a whole list of other not-very-nice adjectives used to describe the zealous female in charge of keeping Hell’s contracts in order. But, the woman who scared the crap out of even the hardest criminals in the pit dealt with damned souls only, not demons, so he thankfully never had to meet with the obviously ugly shrew with the not-so-shining personality everyone spoke of.
    Striding into his Lord’s office, he snapped to attention. “First class demon, Remy Crafir, reporting as ordered, sir.”
    “At ease, soldier.”
    As if , Remy almost said aloud. Only demons with a death wish let themselves relax in the big man’s presence. His boss, dressed in his usual business attire, drummed his fingers on his massive desk.
    “You’ve been working for me how long now, soldier?”
    Odd question since Lucifer already knew. “Since the eighteenth year of my birth, sir.”
    “And you are now…”
    “One hundred and four, sir.” And in my prime, he thought puffing out his chest lest his boss think he was getting old.
    “You’ve seen a lot of danger I would imagine during your tenure.”
    “Sir?”
    “Just talking to myself. I know what you’ve accomplished, some of it at my direct behest. Your commanding officers