Page 30 of Raising Hell

“You…fighteach other for the first spot in the queue? How long does that take?”

Amon tugs his lip between his teeth, recalling a memory of an epic clash, no doubt. “Hours, sometimes.”

“But… how… why…” Rory stutters as I watch him, curious. “Wouldn’t it be faster to just… wait?”

“And let someone else reign supreme? I think not!” Amon cries, disgusted at the idea.

“Once, the battle to pay for my sandwich took so long that I tucked it in my pocket and forgot about it. By the time I left, it was no longer goodandthere was mayonnaise everywhere.” I mourn the loss with a heavy sigh. Both of them give me a blank stare before turning their attention elsewhere.

Rude.

“So, it’s all a giant dick measuring contest?” Rory asks, and my wide eyes shoot to Amon’s, already unbuttoning our pants.

“That is a fantastic idea… why have we never thought of this?” Both of us are whipping it out before Rory realizes what is happening in the back seat. “Perhaps this is a better way to determine who goes first.”

Amon nods, then glances at my cock in my hand. “No need to measure—I win.”

I scoff, giving myself a few strokes. “I’m a grower, not a shower, so that’s not a fair fight. Give me a sec—”

Rory releases an unnecessarily dramatic gasp, undertones of shock mixed in. “What are you two doing back there?” He struggles to peer over his shoulder, unable to divert his attention from the road.

“Nothing,” we say in perfect unison, hurrying to tuck ourselves into our jeans. I frown at my half-chub that pushes against the denim, pressing my palm against it and grunting at the pressure.

Amon shoots me alook, before flashing an unnaturally wide smile at Rory. “We are being good boys.”

“The best boys who are not at all suspicious,” I add helpfully.

Why doesn’t he look convinced?

Rory runs his errands, stopping at places called The Post Office and The Bank, but we aren’t allowed to leave the car. We don’t even have enough time for another dick measuringcontest before he returns, narrowing his eyes both times like he expected us to be missing.

He still isn’t aware of the power he wields, which is as endearing as it is naïve. Witches of the past had such mastery over their demons that they could manipulate our every action. If you were commanded not to breathe until you suffocated, you had no other option.

In hindsight, I realize I should have offered him more guidance from the beginning. Even without knowing him, it was crystal clear that his intentions were never evil. His pure soul would never knowingly exploit another being, demon or not.

Instead, I used him for my own purposes.

Guilt swims in my gut, and a hard elbow hits me in the ribs. I yelp as Amon silently questions me with his eyes. I shake my head, giving him a look that says we’ll discuss it later, nodding towards Rory. He stares for a moment, then nods.

“Okay.” Rory already sounds exhausted from a conversation we haven’t had yet. “Real talk. Can both of you be on your best behavior?”

“Yes,” I say, as Amon says, “Debatable.” This time I ram my elbow into his side, and he gives a long-suffering sigh. “Yes, Rory, we can act like civilized beings. Well… I don’t have to act, but Cas can fake it and pretend not to be an uncultured swine for a short while, I imagine.”

Behind the seat where Rory can’t see, I flip Amon my middle finger. “Fuck you,” I mouth, and he smirks.

“Later, baby,” he says out loud, to which Rory’s eyebrows fly up to hit his hairline.

My mouth hangs open as I blink repeatedly, and then I let out a theatrical gasp. “Did you just offer to—”

“No!” he shouts, realizing what his words implied. “Your cock will come nowhere near my—”

Rory’s voice booms through the car, shocking us both into silence. “Did you not just say you could behave!?” Chastised, both our heads sag in submission to the power.

“Sorry,” I mutter, and Amon grumbles his apology as Rory takes a deep, calming breath.

“If you can behave—and right now, that is a big if—I’ll allow you to come inside the grocery store with me.” We both whip our heads up so fast my horn digs into the roof of the car and gets a little… stuck. Amon snorts as I jerk my head a few times and dislodge myself, grimacing at the tear in the upholstery. I stretch, nonchalantly placing my palm over the hole.

Rory stares for a long moment in his little mirror. “Cas?” he finally says, not looking away.

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