Free That Old Black Magic by Michelle Rowen

morals.
    Which obviously sucked for way too many reasons to count.
    He tried not to think about it. Accepting it was not something he was ready to do yet, but he’d have to eventually.
    The main problem was that morals got in the way when it came to life in the proverbial basement. It wasn’t such a nice place, depending on how you looked at it, but from a normal demon’s eyes, it was business as usual. If Darrak returned to the pit with his new outlook on life, he might start trying to rescue the damned souls who’d been sent there. The ones that screamed the loudest, anyway. That sound wouldn’t be quite as melodic anymore. It would actually bother him to hear anyone in agony like that, whether they deserved it or not.
    Maybe he’d just try to steer clear of the main hot spots. So to speak.
    As if going back to Hell was even an option for him. What a laugh. As soon as he stepped foot anywhere within the Netherworld, he’d be exposed for what he was—a freak of nature. He was now an outcast, a hybrid, a demon with humanity and a bit too much celestial energy he’d digested, thanks to Eden, that he needed to burn off before he could go anywhere near Hell again undetected.
    What a mess.
    Quite honestly, the only thing keeping him from gnashing his teeth, or whatever, about this situation was Eden.
    He knew the love he felt for her weakened him, made him less of a demon. And the craziest thing was he really couldn’t care less. He’d never experienced something like this before. Ever. And it made him . . . happy.
    At least, when it wasn’t making him completely miserable.
    Ah, love , Darrak thought. I could totally write one of those sexy romance novels if I wanted to.
    Hmm. That might be a good idea, actually.
    He heard somebody whimpering. He looked up from his thoughts and realized he had Stanley’s wrist in a death grip. He let go immediately, no harm done.
    “Hey, baby!” Nancy called over from the counter. “Everything okay over there?”
    “Oh . . . yeah. No problem. Just chatting with Darrak.”
    “Cool! Darrak you want another donut?”
    “I’m good, thanks,” Darrak said. Good. Well, that might be an overstatement, really.
    Nancy sent another shiny smile their way before she moved to answer the phone.
    Darrak cast a look at the man tensely sitting across from him. “Look, Stanley, listen to me and I want you to hear the words coming out of my mouth. I’m not going to hurt you, maim you, eviscerate you, or otherwise bother you. I am not going to kill you and drag your soul to Hell. I do not like green eggs and ham. Et cetera. Get it through your head.”
    Stanley frowned. “So you’re being totally serious with me. The rumors are true that you’ve changed.”
    “Uh-huh. Wait, you’ve heard rumors?”
    He shrugged. “A few from, uh, Maksim . He called this morning to let me know he was back, which was why I was so surprised to hear from you immediately afterward.”
    Darrak grimaced. Another mark against him that made him feel like less than his once-powerful self. “Perfect timing.”
    “Are you going to see Maksim again?”
    “Not sure. I got a bad vibe off him, and I don’t mean that as a compliment. For his sake, I hope he wasn’t screwing around with us.”
    “Will you hurt him if he was?”
    A slow smile snaked across Darrak’s face. “You know, everyone always assumes all a demon ever cares about is violence and mayhem and the sound of tearing flesh. But, trust me, that’s actually only 95 percent of the time. We do have a few other hobbies, you know.”
    The look of horror that crossed Stanley’s face shouldn’t have amused him, but it did anyway. Maybe he was still evil down deep.
    It was a comforting thought, actually.
     
     
    Eden spent the day organizing Andy’s files. It was what she typically did on Thursdays, nice mindless work—mostly deciphering her partner’s lousy handwriting. She went out midafternoon to Hot Stuff to grab a sandwich, which sat heavily