Page 175 of The Demon's Pet

I blinked in shock because, based on the tousled, golden-brown hair and tattoos showing on his chest and the disapproving glare, it wasSam.

“Just what the actual fuck is going on right now?” he yelled before he noticed the cross, where another version of him was still tied up. “Mor, what is the meaning of this?” He jerked a finger at the X. “You have two seconds to explain yourself.”

Mor just looked up at him like a dog caught digging up bones in a backyard. “Well, shit.”

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Sam stared at us, and the wind whipped at his bathrobe, which he pulled tighter around him, tugging on the belt.

He walked forward then, and the demon in me tried not to lick her lips at the sight of him. The gleam of his skin beneath the moonlight. That utterly handsome face.

Then I looked from him to the cross, where he was still hanging.

I felt like reality was being torn in half.

“Mor has always been good at illusions,” Sam said, shaking his head as he walked over to us. “Take it down. Right now.”

Mor sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She snapped her fingers, and the cross disappeared in a puff of gray smoke. “There.”

Sam looked around us at the two smoking, blackened places where my “laser,” had aimed. “So now you’re trying to destroy my brother’s home? Everything he spent his life to build?”

Mor shook her head rapidly. “Hell no, you know I would never—”

“Then explain yourself,” Sam said, his tone low with a deadly note to it despite the calm there.

Mor fidgeted. “I just… I was trying to teach her how to kill. For you.”

Sam, who was standing there with folded arms, cocked his head. “And why did that involve stringing me up half naked and putting me on a cross?”

Mor shrugged. “I was just trying to get creative.”

“And why a Saint Andrew’s cross?” Sam asked.

Mor grinned. “You know I like BDSM.”

Sam put a hand to his head. “This is a mess. Mor, I don’t need help training Cleo to kill. That’s something she’ll have to deal with when she’s ready. For every slayer, it happens at a different time.”

Mor slumped slightly. “I know. It’s just… I saw you get beaten because of her. I know how far you’ll go for her. I wanted to see how far she’d go for you.”

My heart was slightly touched by that, her love for Sam.

Then jealousy whipped through me as bitter as a cold winter wind.

I got up in front of her. “Don’t touch him again,” I said. “Don’t even think about—”

She put a finger out on my collarbone and poked me backward. “Oh please, put the jealousy away. He’s not my type.”

My eyebrows jerked up. “Really?”

She took a step in closer, putting her hand on my chin and tilting it up. “You are, though, if you’re interested.”

“Mor!” Sam’s yell was loud and fast, and he was immediately there, pulling her back. “What the hell? Now I have to worry about my friend too?”

“You two don’t have any deals,” Mor said. “I heard you told her not to get feelings. That means you aren’t exclusive.”

“Like hell,” Sam said, getting in Mor’s face.

I got between them, pushing them apart, because it looked like they were going to start scuffling.

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