Free Kiss & Hell by Dakota Cassidy Page B

barked, making her jump with the sharpness of it. “I believe that particular skill is a level-six ability. I haven’t made it past level one—as you clearly saw after that woman with the accent attacked me from behind, wrestled me to the ground, and duct-taped me to your radiator. I’m just now learning how to disappear. I don’t like using anything that even remotely has to do with these demonic powers I’ve been given, but it gave me an advantage I needed today. I’d be a liar if I didn’t say it helped in a pinch, but it was no cakewalk getting in and out of that bank— naked— even if it was closed.”
    Touché. Or not . . . she was having a hard time believing he wasn’t just playing poor widdle weak demon to fool her.
    “So now we’re even,” he concluded with a satisfied nod of his head.
    “No. We’re nothing. I don’t want your money. I do want you to get out of my house—my store. I only aid spirits who need help crossing over. You’ve officially crossed, and there ain’t no comin’ back from where you landed. That means I can’t help you and I’m not interested in why you showed up here.” Though that might not totally be the truth. She was a little curious after his admission that he was sent here to torment her. But demons loved to play games, and that was probably the case with this one. To waste time playing with them, asking questions, was fruitless and would only heighten a demon’s lust for the sheer joy of toying with a mortal.
    Now his patience was running thin. She could see it in the hardening of his eyes, and the pulse at his right temple. “Then don’t take the money. Give it to the poor. Buy dogs one through six a helluva steak. In my mind, my debt to you is paid, and honoring a debt is important to me—no matter how skewed and misinterpreted by a medium the debt is.”
    “Very civic, with just the right touch of Boy Scout. Now get out.” She’d deal with the temptation of coveting thy demon’s eight hundred smackers later.
    He remained where he was with a posture that dared her to get her prism. “Nope. I’m not leaving until you listen, and if I have to, I’ll use one of my demon skills to make you. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it if the end result is we get this cleared up.”
    He. Did. Not. “Pop off, demon. I know you didn’t just threaten me.”
    Clyde narrowed his gaze.
    She sighed, when he didn’t move a muscle, letting her irritation bleed through the long exhale of it. “Are you gonna make me get the prism again?”
    His game face changed a hair. Not nearly as determined as it was a minute ago. “Please don’t.”
    Delaney mentally took the metaphoric reins back. “It got rid of you the first time. Wasn’t that you who got all girlie about a little piece of glass? You back for more, hero?”
    “If your eyes burning holes in their sockets is girlie, then just call me girl. You had an unfair advantage—a weapon I knew absolutely nothing about. But I’m learning . . .” He let his words drift off, then gave her a smug grin.
    Delaney’s snort ripped through the silence between them. “Puulease. You know damned well what’s damaging to a demon. Don’t they give you classes on it in Hell? Isn’t that, like, Demon 101?”
    Clyde’s lips thinned, his cheekbones becoming sharper, more defined, giving him a whole new appeal. “As I said, I’ve avoided as much participation in anything demonic as I could.”
    Her arms crossed over her chest; her stance grew defensive. “Really? That sounds like a very convenient answer. Like maybe something I want to hear to pacify me until you wail me when I’m not looking?” She cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him.
    His wide chest heaved in a ragged sigh. Aw, look. The poor demon was fed up. Wah-wah. “That’s why I was sent here, Delaney. I’ve been trying to tell you that since you accused me of bilking you out of eight hundred bucks. My original assignment was supposed to be some sort of punishment for