Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(10)

“Six o’clock,” he said, voice gruff, and stalked away.

“What’s six o’clock?” she called after him.

“Your report time tomorrow morning. Don’t be late … and get rid of those ridiculous shoes unless you want a horse-shit pedicure.”

She glanced at her peep-toe pumps. “You can’t be serious. Six in the morning?”

Damian stopped at the courtroom door and turned, shooting her a wicked grin. “Horses don’t shovel their own crap out of their stalls, little witch. Don’t be late. Squash has been fighting off a stomach bug and needs fresh hay first thing in the morning.”

Left alone in the room, Rose swallowed a curse. She’d landed herself in a large pile of witch-shit … and quite possibly a load of horse shit, too.

She was seconds away from face-planting in all the shits.



* * *



Damian’s demon senses tingled, and not in a good way, or in any way he wanted to take part in. It started when he’d run into Rose Maxwell at the Fifth Precinct, and while it wavered in its intensity, it never truly dissipated.

His inner demon was antsy, made even more restless when he’d returned to the sanctuary the other night to find out Miguel’s “resolved issue” involved Rose and the near-abduction of his two healing mares … horses for which he’d risked his own damn life to liberate from their former owner.

Him. Harm an animal …

Hell, animals were the only living creatures on this earth he liked, which is one of the reasons he’d become a vet in the first place. Animals couldn’t disappoint you. Give them your loyalty and they gave theirs right back. People not only let you down, they twisted things for their own looming agendas.

And no one had more agendas than those who sat on the Supernatural Council. Oh, they pretended to work for the betterment of their constituents, and maybe a few even backed their words with actions—like Linc and Vi.

But the others? They did what benefited them. It was the curse of power, and it took down more than one of the original Supernatural Council members until the only original left was the Prima herself.

But no seat had to be replaced more than the demon chair … because it wasn’t a demon’s first nature to look out for others. Before his banishment back to Hell, even his father, Ezeil himself, had held the position and he’d been the most self-serving demon on record … at least until his successor, Julius Kontos, took over.

While in those chambers, Damian had done his damned best not to look in that bastard’s direction, but that didn’t mean he didn’t sense him. Feel him. And if Damian—the man—did, then his inner beast sure as hell did, too.

And that was never a good thing.





4





The Demon Doth Protest Too Much


Even birds weren’t up this early. Rose downed another large sip of her trusty travel mug of coffee, wishing she’d spelled it with a little extra caffeine to get her through what was sure to be an interesting day. Being up and on the road before the mad rush of commuters clogged the six lanes of the Belt Parkway was unnerving.

No swerving cabbies. No one laying on their horns. She turned her stereo volume up on Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi” to drown out the silence and murmur-sang along with the lyrics.

Thanks to a lack of traffic, she’d made it to the Marisol Animal Sanctuary and Clinic in record time, turning onto the gravel drive and right past the freshly painted sign that most definitely hadn’t been there two nights ago.

Stones kicked up as she steered down the lane, hitting her car doors until she pulled into a patch of grass right next to a well-used F-150 pickup.

Flicking off Lady G, Rose slipped into her phone’s contact list and tapped on her most recent call. When Vi didn’t answer, she hung up and called again, and then a third time until her triplet’s groggy voice picked up.

“This better be a matter of global importance, or life and death,” Vi grumbled. “Strike that … I don’t care how important it is, and it better be imminent death.”

“What’s wrong, sis? Too early for you?” Rose feigned being chipper, chuckling when Vi released a string of colorful curses. “I didn’t want you to feel left out of this experience … especially since you lobbied for it with the Council.”

“You could be a little less thoughtful.” Vi groaned.

“And you could’ve suggested the community center.”

“Actually, I did before the meeting, but Ramón was adamant you work at the sanctuary. It could’ve been worse.”

“Yeah? How?”

“Xavier Hastings, the vampire rep, wanted to sentence you to cleaning the public bathrooms in Central Park for three months.”

Rose gasped. “That toothy jackass!”

“My sentiments exactly. I don’t know who pissed in his pint of O-positive, but he’s been in a foul mood even for him. Hey! I have an idea.” Vi sounded a bit too awake—and innocent. “Why don’t we do a sister swap? You be me for the day, and I can be you.”

Rose laughed. “If only we were identical instead of fraternal.”

Vi muttered grumpily, “Dad’s freakin’ super-sperm.”

“Yeah, let’s not talk about Dad’s sperm. Ever. I take it you have magical tutoring today.”