Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(106)

He couldn’t pin down any one …

Because he suddenly felt everything, and everything felt like his heart was about to explode.





28





“In Your Eyes”


Damian sat on his motorcycle and debated his next move to the background sounds of children running up and down the quaint suburban street. He’d left the city behind about an hour ago and now stared at the cozy little two-story house with black shutters. A red SUV sat in the drive, a signal someone was home.

He just needed to be adult enough to knock on the door and be ready to do exactly what Bax had suggested the day of the adoption fair.

Anything.

He’d say his piece, plead his case, and then walk away as if the person he was talking to didn’t have the ability to take away one of the best things in his life before he had a chance to truly enjoy it.

Rose.

A future with Rose, and all the endless possibilities that came with it. The laughs. The tears. The joys. Celebrations and sadness. Hell, he’d even relish the fights because it would mean watching her eyes glow dewy gold and wielding her power like a badass witchy goddess. And it was impossible not to think about the makeup sex.

Damian wanted it all.

He wanted Rose, and the first step in achieving that was knocking on the fucking door of his past.

A shooting fireball of pain ripped through his chest as he climbed off his motorcycle and damn near fell on his face. From the moment he’d decided to come, his heartburn from hell had grown tenfold, sometimes distracting him from anything and everything around him.

It slowly ebbed as he took one step toward the quaint wraparound porch. It flared again, making him stumble. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and cement filled his limbs by the time he reached the red front door.

He prayed like hell he had the right address. He couldn’t picture the girl he remembered, who wore aged leather pants and vintage garage band T-shirts, living in a place that looked straight out of the pages of Country Home magazine.

“Here goes nothing.” He groaned, lifting his shaking hand to the brass knocker.

The door opened before his arm dropped to his side, and Callie stood on the threshold, her eyes blinking as if checking whether he was a mirage. The only thing more surprising than him being there was the fact she didn’t slam the door in his face.

“Cal.” Damian nodded, at a loss for any other words.

“I placed a bet against myself on how long it would take for you to come to my door.” She flashed him a tentative smile. “You’ll be pleased to know I won.”

Because of course she knew he’d be there.

He’d never been able to get much past her, even when they’d been dating. With a strong witch lineage that included Seers and psychics, she had premonition skills better than most Supernaturals’.

“Sorry to disappoint you by not turning around, but this couldn’t wait.” Damn, that ache was back, feeling like a thousand knives jabbing the underside of his sternum.

“That’s not what I…” She sighed. “Is everything okay?”

He almost laughed at her genuine look of concern. “No, everything is definitely not okay, but you’re going to help me make it a hell of a lot better. Because despite the fact that I was a shit boyfriend back in the day, you owe me.”

Her eyes narrowed on him, studying him carefully. “Damian…?”

His vision went a little fuzzy. “You need to…”

Callie eased a little closer. “I think you should sit down.”

“No, I need…” He swayed, and a split second before his knees gave out, Edward Scissorhands wrapped his knifelike fingers around his heart and squeezed like it was a fucking stress ball.

Damian toppled onto a startled Callie, her own legs buckling under his weight. “Nisha! I need you! Now!”

A slender, dark-haired woman hovered in Damian’s periphery, her mouth opening in a clear sign of shock. “Is that—?”

“Yes! Help me get him into the house and onto the couch!”

Damian groaned. “You need to take it back, Cal. Remove the hex. Please.”

Callie’s face swam in and out of focus, her green eyes softening as she peered down at him. “Oh, Damian, I wish I could…”

The two women worked together to get him to a nearby couch. There, his body pitched sideways, assaulted by another wave of pain that nearly toppled him to the floor. Damian huddled into a ball in an attempt to stop the agony, but he wasn’t about to back down now.

Not until he got what he’d come for. “Callie, please. I’ll do whatever it takes … I … I need her, Cal.”

“Damian, look at me,” Callie ordered gently, her fingers pinching his chin and guiding his head toward her.

He forced his eyes open, deep-breathing through the pain. “Looking…”

“I can’t remove the Soul Hex.”

“Cal, I—”

“There’s only one person who can dissolve it, and only one way in which to do it … and judging by the state you’re in right now, I’d say you’re halfway through the process. You have to finish it.”

“H-how?” he asked, sucking down a groan. “T-tell me.”

“It won’t be easy … and it’ll go against what you’ve always erroneously believed is your nature.”