Page 39 of Raising Hell

Amon cackles louder, slapping his hand on his thigh. “Show him!” he hollers. “Show him the rest!”

“No!” Cas wails, but Amon swoops in and yanks his sweats to the ground. My jaw practically hits the floor as I stare at the gigantic puffball of pink pubic hair on his crotch.

Unable to control it, a giggle escapes from my mouth, and soon enough, I’m laughing uncontrollably alongside Amon, my eyes welling up with tears. “I amsoglad you are enjoying yourselves!” Cas shrieks, scrambling to pull up his pants.

Wiping at the joyful streams that run down my face, I try to compose myself. “Okay, what happened?”

Cas huffs a haughty sigh, crossing his arms and looking away, like he can’t tolerate us laughing at his cotton candy crotch. “We’ve been experimenting with magic…”

“Wait, what?” I sober in a heartbeat and storm over to see Granny’s spellbook wide open on the table.

“We… uh, wanted to find some spells to help you,” Cas says, and my bullshit meter is off the charts right now. He won’t even meet my eyes, but interrupts before I can interrogate him.

“We thought it would be a good idea to do some simple spellwork to avoid any… mishaps.” He sighs again, a tuft of pink hair flying away from his face.

“How’s that going for you?” I ask dryly, and he rolls his eyes.

“Peachy,” he mutters.

“A touch more pink than peach,” Amon says with a snort, and I whip to stare at him. First laughing, now joking… what’s gotten into him?

Cas pretends he can’t hear him as he walks to the desk, his giant flamingo-colored bush peeking over the top of his pants. It makes me wheeze with another laugh as he turns to read through the page of the spellbook. Suddenly he freezes, and a very un-demon-like giggle leaves Amon while Cas twists in slow motion.

“You did this on purpose!” he hisses, eyes glowing red as he jabs a finger at the section he was reading. “You oversized, billy-goat-horned asshole! You’ve been planning this fordays!” Amon shouts as a blast of magic fires at him, shock soon replaced with outrage as he rears back to retaliate.

“Stop!” I shout, and both of them hang suspended in time at the command. “Do not destroy my house! I cannot believe I have to say this…again!” They both look chastised as they lower their hands.

“Now, until we can figure out how to reverse this spell, we’ll have to do things the old-fashioned way.” Cas frowns, apprehensive as he tugs at his neon locks.

“C’mon,” I wave my hand as I walk towards the stairs. “Time for a haircut.”

Chapter 17

Casimir

A glance in the mirror shows me that things are, largely, back in order. We made the collective decision not to attempt reversing the spell we botched. The details of what Amon did to ruin it are unclear, since he conveniently ‘can’t remember,’ so we fixed the problem with scissors, razors, and dye.

My hair is black once again, although it shines with a pink undertone when the light hits it right. Truth be told, I actually really fucking love it, but Amon can never know.

My puffball pubes… well, they’re gone. Smooth as silk down there.

We’ve been digging for days, searching for either a specific spell or a way to manipulate one to suit our needs. Amon’s age advantage allows him to establish telepathic connections with certain other demons. He’s been collecting data from his sources while I’m stuck reading and browsing the internet.

It’s surprising—and a bit unsettling—to find the vast amount of factual information about demons and witches that exists online, given that most people are unaware of the existence of either.

I return to the extra bedroom we’ve been using, finding Amon sprawled out on his stomach. One leg is hiked up beside him, making the muscles of his ass pop in a very distracting way. I drop onto the mattress, sliding an arm under his chest and hauling his giant body against mine.

His eyes narrow as I pull him closer. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” I whisper, stopping just before our lips touch and watching the cycle of emotions cross his face.

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

Surprise flickers over his expression for a moment before he schools himself back into his signature nonchalant boredom. “You’ve never kissed me for no reason. Either you want to fuck, or you need a favor.”

“No,” I whisper, my heart accelerating into breakneck speeds behind the cage of my ribs, exhilarated by the open way he watches me. It’s like after all this time, all the history we share, he’s finally seeing me, and I don’t know how to handle it. “Right now, I just want to kiss you.”

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