Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“And for fuck’s sake, leave your hellhound home, too!” Damien was at the end of his rope with this posse of horny, needy nitwits encroaching on his life.
“Sorry, boss. I swear it won’t happen again.” MF smiled shamefully and then glanced at Maxton with a giggle.
Gods help me. They are not going to stop. When he returned from Dallas, he would have to sit down with MF and insist she move to her own space.
“What’s that, Sky?” MF said, looking over Damien’s shoulder.
So Sky was here now. Great.
There was a moment of silence, followed by MF and Maxton gasping loudly. The undead could hear ghosts, apparently.
“What did she say?” Damien asked.
“Nothing,” MF said. “It’s just…errr…”
Sky was talking about him? How much more could he endure from this sexy ghost? Damien, you made me a ghost the first time, he mocked her voice in his head. Now you owe me forever. Damien, I love you. Damien, I’m leaving you. Damien, die for me.
Women! “I do not have time for this.” He had five days to track down Cimil. Otherwise, all hell would break loose. That, or Votan would break his neck. As an immortal, Damien could still die if his body was destroyed or severely damaged. Not that he would mind ending his long existence, but he was not a fan of pain. “I have to locate Cimil and will return in a few days. Please look after—”
“She escaped? Again?” MF asked, apparently responding to something Sky said.
“Yes,” Damien confirmed.
“What about Amelia and Miguel?” MF asked.
“I will deal with that situation upon my return.” Damien had to prioritize. “I must go now.”
“We would love to accompany you,” Maxton said to him. “After all, I am still indebted to you for bringing MF and me together.”
Yes, Damien was responsible for their coming together, but it wasn’t as if he’d had a choice. Cimil had forced him to hunt down the last “living” vampire, who at the time had been “hermitting” in a South American jungle. Now Damien knew why Cimil had made him do it. She’d hoped to persuade Maxton to create an army of vampires for her war. Luckily, that would never happen. Maxton and MF were too busy humping to start siring newbies.
Little-known fact: new vampires were a hungry handful and needed constant supervision—thus the reason Maxton was never far from MF’s side. Other little-known fact: vampires could go out in the sun, though it severely weakened them, which made newbies an even bigger threat since they could literally hunt twenty-four seven if you let them.
“Uh, no, no,” MF interjected, speaking to Maxton. “We have to stay here. Remember? Look after the shop?” She gave a knowing look to Maxton.
“Oh. Yes. We must stay here.” Maxton nodded enthusiastically.
They were going to screw in the storeroom again while he was away.
Grrrr… “Just—clean up after yourselves.” Damien turned to leave, feeling something breathing down his neck as he got to the door. “And keep Parrot away from me!”
Parrot was the name of Maxton’s hellhound. Why any vampire would want one as a pet was anyone’s guess. They were violent, unpredictable creatures, born deep within the fiery pits of hell. Not very cuddly.
All Damien knew was that his solitary life of fine suits and fabrics had been overtaken by a supernatural zoo. And now Sky was coming on this trip to find Cimil. At least Pet hadn’t caught up to him. Probably got distracted by a telephone pole.
He went outside to his car and opened the door, sliding behind the wheel.
“Heya!” Pet said from the passenger seat.
“It was too good to be true,” he mumbled to himself, starting the engine.
“Not was. Is. You’re lucky to have me along,” she said with her squeaky voice. “Did I ever tell you about the time I banged a dragon?”
“No. And please do not start—”
“Start telling you until we’re on the plane? Good idea!” Pet clapped. “That way I can take my time and give you all the details. Oh look! A stick shift!” Pet jumped on top of it and began licking.
Classy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After a long day at the sanctuary, Jac showered, put on her freshly washed Pink Pit of Pleasure T-shirt, her jeans, and her favorite black-and-red cowboy boots, and then headed to the bank to make a deposit at the ATM. Afterwards, she bought some snacks to tuck into her purse for energy and then prayed Dash would let her work tonight.
As she drove, Jac played through possible outcomes of her impending conversation with Dash—such as him laughing in her face or demanding his cat in return—and came up with polite, yet firm replies that might appeal to his sense of decency.
After all, the man appeared to care very deeply about his animal, Heebie, so it stood to reason that he wouldn’t be a complete crap-tart once she explained how many animal lives depended on her at the sanctuary.