Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(45)

“You’re really not grasping the idea of forgetting everything you heard, are you?”

“You’re telling me former Hunters spend their free nights tracking hell demons into seedy Supernatural bars?” Her gaze flickered to where he worked on her arm. “Growing up as the Prima Apparent, I may have been secluded and deluded to some worldly things, but I’m the best at smelling a load of crap, and right now the stench is impossible to miss, and it’s not coming from the horses downstairs.”

He made quick work of the salve and gently taped a clean bandage over the wound. “How does that feel?”

She flexed her arm. “Like it didn’t even happen … and like you’re evading my question.”

“Good. With the salve in place, it’ll feel and look like it didn’t even happen in a few hours.”

“What would happen if you didn’t have the salve?”

He smiled mischievously. “Be thankful I had some on hand.”

“In your bounty hunter’s first-aid kit.”

He chuckled. “You won’t let this go, will you?”

“I’m sorry, have we met?” She stuck out her good hand. “I’m Rose Maxwell, the Un-Letting-Goer of Things. At least according to my sisters.”

Doing the smart thing meant helping her off the counter and walking away, but he couldn’t move. Instead, he braced his hands on either side of her hips and dropped his gaze to her mouth … and damn if he didn’t catch her doing the same thing.

He sighed. “I used to be a Hunter … in another lifetime.”

She rolled her pretty eyes. “I pretty much figured that out, Captain Obvious. And I’m guessing you were pretty good at your job considering you had a nickname and all.”

“I wasn’t good.”

“You weren’t?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I was the best.”

Rose smirked. “And oh so modest.”

As he gave a faint shrug, his attention wandered back toward her mouth. “It’s true.”

“If you were so good at it, why don’t you do it anymore?”

Any thought of kissing her at that moment was doused with that single question. Desire iced over, frozen so solid an ice pick couldn’t chip it to freedom.

He found the strength to pull away and put the kit back in its spot. “Because I found my calling with animals.”

Rose hopped off the counter. “If Vi’s the Queen of Horrible Liars, you’re definitely the King. I saw the smile on your face when those demons made the first move. Hell, until that moment, I didn’t think you had the facial muscles to pull that off. You got a thrill from it. I did, too … once I was done being scared shitless.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Damian mumbled.

“What was the problem?” Rose asked.

Ignore her and take her home … that was what he should do. It was the smart thing, but she followed him into his apartment, and damn if he didn’t like seeing her in his space, and that brought on a whole new onslaught of issues he in no way could unpack right then.

“Yeah, I get a thrill out of Hunting,” Damian admitted. “But I’m not the only one who does. My inner demon likes it, too. Too damn much. He thrives on it. The chase. The violence that undoubtedly erupts, and not to mention the bloodshed. Every time I went on a Hunt, my demon side strengthened, overshadowing the human side.”

Realization slowly dawned on her face, but even though she understood didn’t mean she got it. He wouldn’t expect her to.

Rose opened and closed her mouth.

He’d shocked her with the truth, and he’d stunned himself by telling her. The only other people who knew why he’d left Hunting were Miguel and Julius. It’s how he preferred it. It’s how he kept things uncomplicated.

“Want to know anything else?” Damian honed his inner jerk. “I’m an Aries. Thirty-four. My favorite color is black. And I’m addicted to anything with mint.”

And his demon’s sparkling personality was why he’d been cursed with his very first hex at the ripe ole age of sixteen … but he wasn’t about to tell her that, too. He’d already told her more than he’d ever planned.

More than was smart.

“Doc.” Rose looked at him with something akin to empathy … almost as if she knew he held back more.

“Don’t look at me like that, little witch,” Damian warned.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m something you need to fix.” Unable to keep his distance, he stalked closer until he had to look down to hold her gaze. “I’m not a failing sanctuary about to go under. I’m a man … or at least partly. There’s no fixing me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

“Only if I was lucky.”

“You’re not as intimidating as you’d like to think, Damian Adams. Yeah, you may have an inner demon, but we all do in some way.”

“Does yours have the ability to coerce people into doing your bidding, too? Does it have a knack for spilling blood? Drink up the taste of fear as if it were cinnamon French toast? Because mine always lingers below the surface, waiting for his chance to do all those things. If you’re not careful, he’ll take you right along with him. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time he brought an innocent along for the ride.”