Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(17)

With a soft snort, Mr. Whiskers turned to Serah and puffed out his chest. His green eyes flashed with question.

Why him?

She shrugged. She seriously didn’t know. He didn’t want to be there. She didn’t really want him there. Then again, that was usually the Council’s MO. “I honestly don’t know.”

“You can talk to them, can’t you?”

Great. Another of her secrets was out. “Just call me the Animal Whisperer.” She smirked. “And before you say anything, plenty of normal people can talk to animals.”

Matthias nodded. “You’re right.”

“He’s harmless. He’s here to protect me.”

Mr. Whiskers scratched his kitty whiskers and narrowed his eyes into a thoughtful glare. Ah dorn’t buy it.

“I will keep Serah safe.”

Mr. Whiskers nuzzled protectively against Serah, a look of concern spread across his kitty face. Ah don’t trust him. How dae ye ken he’s tellin’ the truth?

“He’s a friend of Rafe and Lucy.”

Wha’ever. Ah still don’t trust him.

At least she wasn’t the only one. But she had other reasons for not trusting him—personal reasons. Everything about him raised her adrenaline level. His voice, his gaze… his body. His scent. It was hard to describe. Woodsy notes with a ginger undertone. If only she could bottle some of that and sell it. Totally intoxicating. Now she needed protection for sure, from her overactive libido.

Then again, maybe Matthias was the one who would need protection from her naughty thoughts. Never mind. There wasn’t anything that could loosen his stiff ass up. If there was, well, pigs would be sighted flying over a glacier in hell.

She would have said when hell freezes over, but she knew better. “Well, whether you trust him or not doesn’t matter. He’s here and obviously is in need of new clothes.” Thanks to Mr. Whiskers’s and Inanna’s claws of fury.

“I am here and can hear perfectly, you know.”

As he raked a hand through his shorn hair, one of the tears in his T-shirt ripped further, affording her a quick glance of the outline of one massive pectoral. Like a Greek god. Hell, his body would put Adonis to shame.

Fine. See ye later. With the flick of his long black tail, Mr. Whiskers sidled next to Inanna and slunk along her fur-puffed body.

Serah cringed. PDAs were bad. PDAs involving cats was on a whole other level of wrong. “Enough, Whiskers.”

Wha’ever, he meowed over his shoulder. Yer’re just jealous. Slinking further down the sidewalk, the two cats twisted their tails together.

Yuck.

“Hardly,” Serah muttered. “Jealous? Of a cat? Yeah, right!”

But she still loved the little guy regardless.

***

“How about this?” Serah held up a crinkled black shirt and tossed it onto the pile of clothes stacked in Matthias’s arms. He rubbed the crisp fabric in his fingers, smoothing it out. “It’s wrinkled.”

“It’s linen. It’s supposed to be that way.”

Not the linen he remembered. He leaned in toward her. “So you’re telling me humans enjoy looking sloppy and unkempt?”

“It’s casual.” She grabbed the price tag and shook it in front of his face. “And expensive, so I’d be quiet if I were you.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled beneath his breath.

She moved to a pair of jeans. “How about these?”

“Too constrictive.”

One of Serah’s eyebrows swept up. “Really?”

“I need room… for my weapons.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot how big your weapons are.”

Was that an innuendo? He couldn’t tell. Her expression remained noncommittal. He contemplated asking her. But if it wasn’t, then she’d think him depraved—more than he already was.

She put the pair of tight jeans back and pulled out a pair of cargo-cut jeans. They looked worn, but loose, and they had plenty of pockets. Perfect for combat. “How about these instead?”

“They look a little frayed in places, but the pockets come in handy.”

“That’s how people wear their clothes now.”

Yes, it was confirmed. Humans had become unkempt. But if he wanted to fit in, that’s what he would wear. “They will work just fine, then.”

Good. She grabbed up a few more in different colors and tossed them onto the mound of clothes. If the piles in his arms grew any taller, he’d start leaning like the Tower of Pisa.

“I suppose you’d like some in khaki too?”

“As I said earlier, I am at your mercy, Serah.” Truth was he really was. He was completely out of his element in this shop. Give him a military surplus store, on the other hand, and he could be busy for hours—especially the military surplus stores he shopped at. Try buying silver-tipped throwing stars at the local store.

“Okay. Khaki, olive green, and tan it is.” She grabbed them and stuffed them in her own pile. She then snuck a pair in black.

How long did she expect him to be here? “Isn’t this a little excessive?”

“Better to have options. We aren’t buying everything. You still need to try them on.” She passed by a display of folded T-shirts. Picking one of every color, she shrugged. “Didn’t they tell you about my shopping problem?”