Page 7 of Handcuffs and Hexes

I’d kept that little fact from Seth for months, worried that it would change things between us. I liked what we had and didn’t want it to change.

So we’d continued as just lovers. He’d been staying at Desmon’s place at the time, and I was practically living with Seth in his room. The dragon had even asked if I wanted to work for him since he was always looking for reliable demons to add to his roster.

I understood; not all demons were trustworthy. Hell, I’d once been a menace to medieval society. But that was a long time ago—a whole other lifetime.

But having only been recently freed, I wasn’t interested in being bound to an employer, not even one who was a dragon and paid handsomely. So I’d rejected the offer, but I did agree to help on missions if Seth was there. But that was for selfish reasons. I ain’t losing my man! I also wasn’t going to leave my mate in need of a magical pick-me-up. I didn’t want the dragon throwing an incubus at him if he ran low on magic during a mission.

He was mine, and I was a jealous demon. Ain’t no other demons, incubus or otherwise, going to help my Seth recharge without me! I was in charge of all his recharging needs. Sometimes, that meant bringing in a third for fun and an extra boost of magic, but I was always around, and I always had the last word. Those ladies came and went. They offered a little variety. Something fun but not required.

I knew Seth had had his eyes on Officer Cooley for a while. The police kept sending her and Hayes to the same anomalies Desmon sent Seth to. She wasn’t the type we usually picked up at Delerium, an incubus-owned nightclub here in Darlington, but that wasn’t a bad thing.

But caring for her while she was injured was not how I’d imagined it going. For one, she didn’t look like she’d be ready to spice up our bedroom anytime soon. However, I had to admit that the sight of her was getting whatever protective instincts I had all riled up.

“Thank you for picking me up,” she said, her voice gravelly and lacking her usual pep. “But you guys don’t have to watch me. I’ll be fine. Just drop me off at home.”

“No can do, Hazy Daisy.”

“Hazy Daisy?” I asked.

“That’s her name,” Seth said.

“It’s Hazel,” she corrected. “Or Sarah. I don’t go by Hazy.”

“Whatever you want, Sweetcheeks,” Seth said, winking at her in the rearview mirror as he turned out of the parking lot.

“Great. I want to go home. Then I want you to leave.”

Seth ignored her, so I decided to remind her that I was still there by turning myself immaterial so I could phase through the seat to the back to join our new charge.

Officer Cooley eyed me warily. She’d probably dealt with her share of ornery demons in her time on the force and was expecting the worst from me. Demons had a reputation for a reason. Half of us were party animals, thinking about nothing but fun in the moment. The other half had a bone to pick with humans because of the trauma created by being trapped by wizards and sometimes witches, most of whom were of the human persuasion. I would’ve fallen into the second category if it hadn’t been for Seth.

Considering she didn’t even blink when I phased through the back of the passenger seat, I guessed she was used to dealing with us. I wondered how many demons she’d had to arrest with her special magical-proof handcuffs.

“So, Hazel? I can’t believe I never knew your first name, Cooley.”

“You never asked.”

“Touché.”

“Say, Liam, maybe you can talk some sense into him. Watching me for the next who knows how long is going to be super boring. And I really prefer to feel like shit alone. Convince Seth here that this is a horrible idea. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Oh, I don’t know. EA’s right, you need to be monitored.” I omitted the fact that Seth had been the one to advise the EA to make sure she and Hayes weren’t left alone after that blast. Then, knowing she was the type to respect brutal honesty, I said, “You look a mess. No offense.”

“Ugh! None taken; I feel a mess. But I want to feel like a mess alone,” she wailed. “Can’t you guys just call in and check up on me every few hours instead?”

“Nuh-uh, Babygirl,” I said, tucking her into my arms. “You’re ours for the time being.”

She frowned at the nickname.

I bet she was like Seth, always a little bit too independent, always needing to prove to some unknown force that she didn’t need help and not even realizing she was doing it.

She tried another tactic. “My house is a mess. I didn’t expect anyone to come over. At least let me get the guest room ready.”

And I was willing to bet that if we did, she wouldn’t let us back in.

“We’re not watching you at your place, Sweetcheeks. You’re coming over to ours,” Seth said from the front.

“But I don’t—”

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