Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(38)
“We’re getting low on vitamins for Butternut and Squash.” Miguel appeared in the doorway and nodded to the supplements Damian had just inventoried. “I added them to the list for the next supply run.”
Damian nodded, his hands still shifting items around.
“You know moving things around like a jigsaw won’t make more appear, right? Unless you have magical powers to go along with that stubborn attitude.”
“If only this could be solved by Magic,” Damian muttered, not a fan of hocus-pocus, but if a spell could make money appear instantly, he’d be first in line to snatch one up.
Miguel watched him like a hawk. “You saw him again, didn’t you?”
Damian turned to his mentor and grandfather figure. For a Norm, the man was damn perceptive. It wouldn’t surprise him if there was a Supernatural somewhere in his bloodline.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about.” Damian locked up the med cabinet and drifted into the office, Miguel following.
“You may be an adult now, kid, but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen to lies any more than I did when you were a teen.” As Damian took a seat, Miguel propped his hands on the desk. “We both knew that once he figured out you were back in town, it would only be a matter of time before he sought you out. Truthfully, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”
Damian was, too. His brother might put on a good show of indifference, but there wasn’t much in the Supernatural world of which he wasn’t aware … and that included when new demons sauntered into town. Even in a city as big as New York.
“And?” Miguel cocked a bushy white eyebrow. “How did it go?”
“About as well as expected. Barely veiled guilt. A dash of threat. Pinch of attempted intimidation. And a heap of implied extortion. The only reason Jules didn’t go the full gamut was because Rose was there.”
“Please tell me you’re not entertaining the idea…”
“What idea?”
“Ian…”
“I’m not, so you can stop worrying.” The older man’s pinched expression told him he wasn’t about to take his advice.
“This is serious, kid. The last time—”
“I know what happened the last time, Miguel. I was there,” Damian snapped, immediately feeling guilty. He sighed, rubbing his palms over his face. “I’m sorry. It’s just … I don’t know how much I’ll be able to avoid it. Even you have to admit it would solve a whole lot—if not all—of our problems.”
“And create a whole host more,” Miguel pointed out. “I say this because I care, but I’m not as spry as I used to be. If you fall under again, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to pull you back out.”
Damian worried about the same thing, but he wasn’t voicing his concern aloud and adding to his mentor’s worry.
A soft throat-clearing had them both turning to the door where Rose stood. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was about to head out and I wanted to hop on the puppy cam site and see how we’re doing.”
Damian exited the seat and held it for her. “Have at it, little witch. Can’t wait to hear how you fixed all our problems.”
She shot him a look but took the seat before sliding in front of the laptop. Her delicate fingers tapped away, and when they slowed, her posture slowly sank. “That can’t be right.”
“That good, huh?” Miguel asked, hopeful.
Rose bit her pink bottom lip to the point it blanched. “We did get a few donations, but…”
One hand braced on the back of her chair, Damian leaned over her shoulder, her hair touching his cheek. He scanned the screen until he found the donation section, and snorted. “Well, at least we can buy that fancy bridle Butternut has had her eye on.”
A whopping fifty bucks.
Fifty.
That would barely cover a new bridle.
Rose stood, purposefully bumping the chair into his legs as she stood, her face a hard mask of determination. “When this works … and it will … I’ll demand a very public apology out of you, Damian Adams. Feet kissing may be required. We’ll see how magnanimous I’m feeling in the moment.”
“If this works, babe, I’ll kiss a lot more than your feet.”
With an annoyed roll of her eyes, Rose stalked from the office, and after giving Damian a disappointed shake of his head, so did Miguel. Alone and with disappointment weighting him down, Damian could feel his cell phone practically burning a hole in his pocket.
Animals needed to be fed.
They needed medicine.
Jasper needed … everything.
Mari’s Sanctuary was dangerously close to being out of options, and if that happened, it wouldn’t be only him that suffered.
“Fuck a demon donkey.” Damian yanked out his cell, and stared at the screen. He started and stopped the phone call three times before forcing himself to see it all the way though. He’d nearly convinced himself to make it a fourth before the person on the other end picked up.
In lieu of a greeting, Damian growled, “I’m ready to talk.”
10
Demon Dominoes
Wiping up yet another of her spills while playing bartender at Potion’s Up, Rose glared at her phone sitting on the bar as if the inanimate object had insulted her. In a roundabout way, it had. Every time she pulled up Mari’s Sanctuary’s donation page and saw the same measly fifty bucks that had been pledged from the previous night, she wanted to hurl the thing across the room.