Page 29 of Raising Hell: MMF Edition

The sigh that escapes me is long and drawn out. “What did we just say about behaving?”

He matches my sigh with his own before the acceptance settles on his face. “Right.” With a momentary close of his eyes, different clothes form over his skin—dark, snug-fitting jeans and a black button-up that strains over his chest. He pushes the sleeves up to his elbows, corded tendons flexing in his forearms with thick veins that web over the top.

Somehow, it’s even more obscene than the sweatpants.

Just, y’know, without the dickprint.

I’m distracted as Cas dresses himself in ripped jeans and a simple red hoodie that’s suspiciously the same shade as my devil panties. Amon’s voice hits me right in my ear and makes me jump. “How’s that for a good boy?”

Oh, sugar.

Chapter 13

Casimir

Okay, so I’ll be the first to admit that our afternoon started off a little… rocky. Yep, that’s a good word for it. Butin my defense, no one explained we would travel in a tiny metal cage that runs with absolutely no magic.

Humans, amiright?

When I asked if we could teleport instead, I got a lecture. Blah, blah, the only magic we’re allowed to use is to hide our horns, blah.

Boring, if you ask me.

Both Amon and I agree to behave, and once I overcome the initial shock of the car moving, I enjoy the ride. Although, I’ll never admit it was me who squealed at the first motion of the wheels.

Breathtaking landscapes roll by, and I’m plastered to the window in awe. “What are those?” I ask for what has to be the fifteenth time, and Ruby’s chuckle is still as entertained.

She follows my finger to the black and white cluster of animals, their wide bellies and skinny legs seeming to defy gravity. “Cows,” she says, and I repeat the word a few times, letting it roll around in my mouth.

“They do not appear suitable for mounting and riding into battle. Too slow.”

Her eyebrow quirks. “Are there many battles in Hell to ride into?”

Amon snorts at the question. “There’s an ongoing battle to be first in line at the market.”

“Don’t… don’t you just… wait your turn?” Her confusion is obvious, and Amon and I furrow our brows as we stare at her.

“Of course not,” Amon says, rightly horrified. “Wait?”

“What’s the point of being a superior demon if you can’t even be at the front of the line to pay for your sandwich?”

Ruby seems genuinely perplexed, and it only confuses us further. “But…” she starts, then stops and closes her mouth, thinking for a moment before speaking. “How do you determine the order if it’s not based on when you arrived?”

“Duel.” Her jaw hangs open at our synchronized response.

“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…” Ruby stutters as I watch her, 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.” Imourn 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?” Ruby asks, and my wide eyes shoot to Amon’s, already unbuttoning our pants.

---