Page 39 of Not Your Ex's Hexes
“Thankfully there’s also no shortage of people who would do anything to make sure you never reclaim your Alpha seat,” Rose fired back immediately.
Damian cleared his throat, lips twitching as he addressed Bisset. “I think it’s time you leave now.”
“I think you should try and make me,” Bisset sniffed, “half-demon.”
Damian snuck a glance at Rose. “Was that supposed to be an insult, do you think, babe? My people skills are a bit rusty from working with animals all day, but I think that was supposed to be insulting.”
Rose nodded, playing along. “I think that’s exactly what he meant it to be.”
“Huh.” He turned back to an even more furious Bisset. “Well, I’d rather be a half-demon than a full-asshole.”
A low growl rolled from Bisset’s throat before he shot to Rose, “You scraped the bottom of the barrel, didn’t you, love? Guess I should be thankful I got a taste before you lowered your standards.”
Rose beat Damian into moving first.
Wisps of pink Magic sparked from her hands as she stepped closer to the shifter, her eyes flashing. “Actually, Val, it’s the exact opposite. I’ve finally seen my worth and I won’t settle for anything less than the best.”
Damian sensed the new presence on his left before the figure joined.
Dressed to the nines in a tux so expensive it could feed the sanctuary animals for an entire year, Julius Kontos looked every inch the demon figurehead on the Supernatural Council. Perfectly coiffed. Completely at ease. And the only person Damian wanted to see less than the asshole tiger shifter in front of him.
“Lucky me. It looks like I found the party within the party.” Looking bored, the demon Councilman ran his gaze over Rose’s ex, his hands tucked into his pants pockets. “What slimy rock did you climb out from, Bisset? The large one on the east side of Central Park? I thought we had that opening filled.”
Bisset hissed. “This has nothing to do with you, Kontos, so move along.”
“That’s not quite true. Being on the Supernatural Council, it’s my duty to oversee that the Bonding Ceremony of our future Councilleader and all celebrations related to it go smoothly. Think of me as security… with horns.”
Julius’s inner demon showed himself for a split second, eyes—and skin—flashing red before melting back into his human form. In response to the show-and-tell, Damian’s own inner hellion stirred, and it wasn’t an itch. Or a brush. And it definitely wasn’t a caress as he’d heard other Supernaturals describe their second self.
His beast dragged a talon from the underside of his sternum to his navel, leaving behind a scorching trail of pain and misery. It was literally the reflux from Hell.
Julius’s eyes glittered as he charged up his Compulsion, his demonic gift of not-so-sweet-talking others into doing his bidding. “You’ll be leaving now, and you’ll do so without creating a scene.”
The tiger shifter fought the mind control with an angry snarl. “Go to hell, demon.”
“I’m actually vacationing there next week to work on my tan. Anyone who claims the Caribbean beaches are the best has never been to Sinful Shore, the nude beach in Hell’s Level Six.” Julius’s playful smirk melted away, his eyes flashing again. “Now, leave before I forget where and who I am, and fall back on old habits from years past. And trust me, I wasn’t so nice back then.”
Damian snort-muttered, “Understatement of the year.”
Julius glanced at Damian for the first time, his mouth twitching… and that was all the opportunity Bisset needed to make his move. He leaped, one hand shifting into a clawlike weapon as he aimed to hit both Damian and Julius in a single swipe.
Magic crackled and in a blink, the shifter was suspended motionless in the air, a living statue only capable of moving his eyes. Bisset’s lips barely moved as he tried—and failed—to snarl.
“Nicely done, Miss Maxwell.” Julius chuckled. “Damian, what do you say we take out the trash? It’s smelling the joint up. But I claimfeet. That muzzle looks a slight less frozen than the rest of him and I can’t afford a nibble on the hands. They’re my moneymaker.”
Damian glanced to Rose. “You good with that?”
“Goddess, yes. Please. Get him out of here.”
The three worked in tandem to remove Bisset from the bowling alley, Damian and Julius hefting his body while Rose walked alongside, keeping him frozen until they’d tossed him onto a pile of black garbage bags stacked on the sidewalk.
Used paper plates and boxes flew up, decorating his expensive tux with trash bag confetti, and all the tiger shifter could do was glare.
“What the hell?” A high-pitched squeal pierced the evening air as a flurry of satin and ruffles burst through the bowling alley doors. A tall blonde shot them all what she probably considered lethal glares as she stood protectively in front of Bisset’s still form. “You can’t do this!”
Rose snortled. “I think we already did, Tandi. Relax. It’ll wear off in a few minutes, and then the two of you can slither on your merry way.”
Tandi’s mouth opened and closed, her face getting redder by the minute. She snarled, “I will ensure that you’re never invited to another social event in the city. Mark my words.”
