Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(33)

“Farquhar MacTavish, at yer service.”

Serah cringed. “I could get arrested for saying that name in public.”

“Jist call me Farquie. That’s wha’ Inanna calls me.”

“So where is your hot Persian tail? Is she special too?”

“She is.” He sighed. “She has tae spend time wi’ her human. Who kent keepin’ a secret imp identity could be sae hard? Inanna says she makes her wear silly pirate costumes an’ forces her tae sleep wi’ her.” Farquhar cringed. “Ah tellt her tae start peein’ oot of the box. Mebbe she’d send her tae the beastie shelter.”

“Ouch. I didn’t realize she had it so bad.”

Farquhar shrugged. “She’ll be fine. So where’s th’ mercenary turned Paladin?”

“How long does it take to poof?” She preferred to use the layman’s term. Butchering was an understatement when it came to her speaking Latin.

“Depends on how far awa’ he is an’ if he’s been here a’fore. Travelin’ tae an unfamiliar place can tak’ a while. Five or ten minutes.”

Serah relaxed. “Then I have some freedom. Thank God.”

She threw a popcorn kernel up into the air and opened her mouth to catch it. Instead a sharp burst of wind swirled around and sent the popcorn spinning and pinging against the wall. She slammed her mouth shut, shock pounding through her system.

“Damn, Serah. He’s guid.”

Five to ten minutes, her ass.

And like that, freedom zipped away with each frigid gust.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed. And that’s what really pissed her off.





Chapter 14


Matthias brushed off chunks of ice and snow from his shoulders. He hated the Peragrans and the brutally icy portals. One of the small sacrifices for a minute or two of travel. It was certainly better than the alternate… especially when you were in a hurry.

And he’d left her alone too long.

Then again, she wasn’t completely alone. Sitting next to her on the sofa was her wannabe protector. And to make matters worse, he was sipping scotch and smoking a cigar. Not a bodyguard, more like a sidekick. A very inept one at that.

“How’d you get here so quick?” Serah asked, pushing a piece of popcorn between her lips.

“Och aye. How did ye?”

“I am a trained warrior with over seven hundred and fifty years of experience.”

“Wha’ever,” the cat meowed out. He set his cigar on an ashtray sitting next to him on the sofa. Taking one final swig of the amber liquid in his glass, he tossed it back. “Ah spoke tae Rafe. He says ye’r clean. I’m still watchin’ ye though.”

Matthias gritted his teeth. He should have known it was more than a cat. And a Scottish one, to boot. Things couldn’t get any stranger. “Another imp?”

“Och aye. Farquhar MacTavish at yer service.”

“This is ridiculous,” Matthias grumbled.

“Ah guess he’s gettin’ the guest room?” Farquhar narrowed his eyes into a penetrating glare. “Wow. Kickin’ the kitty tae the curb.”

“You have to start acting like a cat, damn it.”

“Lickin’ ma crease, pissin’ in a stinky box, an’ chasin’ ma feckin’ tail?” Farquhar puffed up his fur. “I’d say I’m daein’ a damn guid job.”

“Since when do cats smoke cigars and drink…” She looked at the label on the bottle on the table. “Glenfiddich? Where’d you find the money for that?”

“Nae jist any Glenfiddich. Forty-year single-malt.” He grinned, whiskers turning upwards. “Ah hae ma ways.”

This was absolutely ridiculous. How could this pint-sized ball of fur protect her if all he did was sit back with fine scotch and Cuban cigars and watch movies all night. And where was he getting Cuban cigars? Weren’t those illegal?

Then again, he’d seen Farquhar and his lady friend give him the slicing of the century earlier. That, oddly, counted for something.

He wouldn’t give the imp the benefit of the doubt.

“So you got the all clear?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Then you are relieved of your duties. Go, be a cat.”

“This is crazy.”

So was talking to a cat. “And meow, damn it.”

“Meow.” Farquhar extended his middle claw. With a not-so-graceful leap, he plopped to the floor. Tail swishing back and forth, he dropped into the pet bed in the corner. “Dinnae get on ma bad side, Ambrose.”

“Don’t get on mine, and I won’t get on yours.” He turned back to Serah whose mouth fell open in shock.

“Wow. Impressive.”

“Why’s that?”

“Mr. Whiskers—Farquhar doesn’t listen to many people. Not even Rafe.”

“Just like a cat.”

Farquhar’s head popped up. “Ah can still hear ye.”

“Take the guest room. Tonight only.”

“Fine.” Farquhar moseyed over to the entertainment center, climbed up on his back paws and pressed a button on the DVD player. He pulled the DVD out of the open turntable and spun the disc around a clawed finger. With quick flick, he sent the DVD flipping up in the air and caught the DVD on the tip of his tail. “Gie me ma scotch, buddy.”