Page 23 of Bad Demon

The female was nice to look at. Not enough meat on her bones for my liking, but that had never stopped me before. Usually, I’d take her up on her offer, but I wasn’t feeling it. I hadn’t been feeling it all week. Instead of partying at the clubhouse, I’d been hanging around Seventh like the stalker Fern had accused me of being.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m busy.”

She moved closer, licking her lips. “What about tomorrow? I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

The only thing she’d be able to do was give me a hand job or maybe suck my dick if she was really committed. Not many humans could handle a male my size. Yes, there were some who could manage it. But hounds were hung—we were just made that way—and not just anyone could take us, no matter how determined they were. We were used to it, and yeah, sometimes, I just wanted to fuck, but unless we took another shifter to our beds, since they were built a little differently, more times than not, my brothers and I were shit out of luck.

An image of Fern’s ass in those tight jeans filled my head, and a growl slipped out. The human took a step back, and I quickly grinned and winked as if I’d done it on purpose. She giggled nervously.

“Sorry, but I gotta work. Thanks for the offer though, yeah? Drive safe,” I said, dismissing her, and walked out of the garage.

“Are you coming down with something?” Warrick said, just outside the roller doors.

I hadn’t even seen him walk over. “Nope. Why?” Brick was with him, carrying Vi’s unicorn baby bag. He’d obviously done something to piss War off.

Baby Violet was against War’s shoulder, and he was gently patting his tiny daughter’s back while she fussed. My alpha shrugged. “She seemed like your type, brother.”

“What can I say, War? I’m six hundred years old. Random pussy doesn’t hold the same appeal as it used to.”

He gave me a look that felt like he was trying to invade my brain.

“Shit, I’ll take her number,” Brick said, a shit-eating grin on his face.

War gave Brick a hard stare, and the pup snapped his mouth shut and quickly looked down. Oh yeah, he’d definitely pissed off our alpha.

Violet gave me a toothless grin, and I brushed my hand over her soft, peach-colored hair. She made a gurgling sound, and protectiveness filled my chest. “That’s right; tell your favorite uncle all about it.”

War snorted. “I think you might be, you know. Whatever you do, don’t tell Rome. He thinks it’s him.”

Roman was a brutal fighter, a skilled tattoo artist, and like the rest of us, the hound would lay down his life for Vi and Willow, in a heartbeat. My lips curled up. “I knew it.” I didn’t see the need to fill War in on the little demon currently driving me crazy, but he still might be able to help me another way. “So I need to talk to someone at the witches council. Any suggestions?” I asked him.

“Nathan Trotman. He’s a good man. Definitely your best bet. Why? What’s going on?”

“Just a demon I’ve been keeping an eye on. Told me her mother was a witch, not sure I’m buying it.”

“She causing trouble?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Warrick trusted our judgment, but I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about me protecting this female after what she’d done, so that was as much information as I was willing to share right then.

“So if she has witch blood, whose responsibility is she?” Brick asked. “The hounds or the witches council?”

“That’s where the lines can get blurred. If she’s telling the truth, and she’s causing serious trouble, it could involve a meet with a council member,” War said.

I was the one who’d let the demon go, which meant she was my responsibility as far as I was concerned.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” War said, then he motioned to the clubhouse. “It’s Vi’s nap time.” He strode off, then barked Brick’s name when the pup didn’t follow immediately.

Cursing under his breath, he rushed after Warrick.

I chuckled. The pup had a lot to learn; luckily, he had brothers to set him on the right path, whether he liked it or not.

Pulling out my phone, I called the witches council and spoke to Trotman.

There was no record of a Fern Honeycutt, not in any of the coven records.

Of course she’d lied. I’d hoped like fuck she was telling the truth. If the little demon pulled that shit again, she might not be so lucky. One of my brothers might not be as forgiving as me.

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