Page 14 of Not Your Ex's Hexes
“Where can I change?” Rose asked, refusing to break eye contact with the smirking demon jerk.
Damian couldn’t help watching Rose hightail it to the back office, her rear end swaying deliciously in jeans that probably cost a small fraction of what he’d paid for his motorcycle. Once she’d disappeared into the office to change, he grabbed his T-shirt and shrugged into it before checking on the sanctuary’s newest resident.
Occupying the stall across from the mares, the newly postpartum pittie lay in the corner, her cream-and-brown-colored head perched on her white paws. As he crouched in front of her to change out the water in her untouched bowl, her sad golden eyes flickered up to his.
“Hey there, girl. Still not thirsty, huh?” He scratched her head and hoped for a pleased sigh or a tail twitch… anything to give him hope his patient was on the upswing. But she glanced away, and rolled slightly, giving him her back.
He’d tried—and failed—multiple times to get the pooch to eat. She’d eventually do it, but barely, and only enough to keep herself from withering away completely. IV hydration would only go so far, and it wouldn’t cure the root of the problem.
She missed her pups.
The recently pregnant stray had been brought to the sanctuary by a construction crew who’d found her along a busy stretch of road, inmid-labor and in obvious distress. The delivered pups had been too premature to make it and she’d gone on a hunger strike ever since.
“Alright, I’m heading out now.” Miguel propped his arms on the rail as he glanced at the dog. “Bella’s still not taking anything?”
Damian frowned. “Not more than a drop at a time, and food is less than that. I can keep the fluids going and restart her TPN drip if I need to, but that’s not a long-term solution. If she doesn’t turn a corner soon, I’m not sure what will happen.”
“You’ll figure it out. You both will.”
He wasn’t so sure, but it was exactly like Miguel to think the best of him. He always had, even when he’d been a trouble-seeking sixteen-year-old Hunter straddling the line between Supernatural prison and an early grave.
“So you and…” Miguel nodded to the office. “What’s the story there?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, straight-faced.
Miguel’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, kid. I may be an old Norm without any kind of ‘super’ powers, but my observation skills are top-notch, and they tell me there’s history between you and our new hire.”
Damian glowered at his mentor. “She’s not a new hire. She’s serving out community service hours and then she’ll be on her way.”
“Maybe, but you knew her before she staged aFree Willymoment.”
He sighed, knowing the man wouldn’t give up until he got his answer. “She’s the sister of Linc’s True Mate.”
Miguel’s gaze flickered to the occupied office and back. “She’s the Maxwell Prima Apparent.”
“Was,”Damian corrected. “She stepped down when Vi came into her powers. Now she’s a thorn in my backside…”
And the one-night stand that kept visiting him in his fucking dreams, but Miguel didn’t need to know that.
It didn’t stop the older man from flashing a wide, toothy smile. “The demon doth protest too much, kid. You may be fooling herwith that indifferent grumpy thing you’ve got going on, but you’re forgetting who knows you better than yourself. You can’t keep avoiding people, Ian.”
“Sure I can. It’s called work, and if we keep taking in rescues along with all of our regular patients, that makes it even more possible.”
“You need human interaction every once in a while.”
“That’s what I have you for, isn’t it?” Damian joked dryly. “Besides, I like animals better than most Norms and definitely better than all Supernaturals. Less complicated. Feed them, shelter them, give them an occasional scratch or two and you’ve got their loyalty forever… animals, that is.”
Rose came out of the office decked out in the paint-splattered overalls and rubber boots, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She gave him an eat-shit-and-die glare that had him almost smirking until he heard the rumble of a familiar engine pull up in front of the barn.
“Yo, yo! Is everyone up, or are you sleepyheads still sawing wood?” a familiar voice called from outside.
Damian and Miguel followed the sound of the growing banging to find their one and only employee jumping down from their beat-up horse trailer. Terrance Yoshida had volunteered at the sanctuary to fulfill service hours for school and the kid never left, earning himself a spot as one of the few people Damian could tolerate.
Behind Terrance, the horse trailer shook, its occupant kicking the shit out of the interior and damn near putting a hoof through the wall.
“Did you bring a horse or a rodeo bull?” Damian reached for the latch to release the animal. Some didn’t do well in confined spaces.
Terrance stopped him. “I wouldn’t do that just yet, boss man.”
