Page 67 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

“Okay, okay! I have the money,” he wheezes. “I’ll transfer now.”

“Ah, I say, low and dangerous. “So you are not merely a thief.” My claws tighten. “You are a liar as well.”

“They just gave me a signing bonus, okay?!” He transfers it with his phone. Vesper hugs her arms, chin held high, much like my proud chest.

I set him down. He drags in gusts of air. He balls his hands into fists. “What the hell are you?”

I snort. “The consequence of your continued incompetence.”

His mouth falls open. I rise to my fullest height. “I am the creature your daughter reaches for when she is frightened.”

When he steps toward me, Vesper steps in, attention sharpening on her ex. “Richard Dawson, if you go to the cops and tell them a demon tortured you, I’m sure that’ll go over great with the court. Good luck with your new job.”

Rick fumes, then tugs on the ends of his jacket before he stomps to the door, opens it, and goes. The door closes.

Vesper kisses me, deep and full. My tail plays with her curls.

“You were magnificent,” she informs me after much tongue.

“I could have been considerably more thorough.” I grin, showing my teeth.

“I know.” She kisses me again. “I’m proud of you. I love you. And I’d like to share some things with you. Come here…” She invites me to sit beside her on the sofa.

I sit beside her. She leans into my shoulder, and my tail winds around her arm before slipping into the curls at the back of her neck. “You know,” she says after a moment, “you’re remarkably good at not asking questions.”

“You tell me what you wish me to know.”

Her mouth curves. “Yeah. That’s why I usually end up telling you anyway.”

I kiss the top of her head. She folds her hand into mine. “You already know about the drinking. The gambling. And apparently now the cheating.”

Heat threatens beneath my skin again.

“I am aware.”

“Those are basically the headlines.” She settles deeper against me. “The footnotes are messier.”

I wait.

“He wasn’t always awful, Vale. That was part of the problem. When I met him, he was charming and funny and made me feel like the center of his universe. Every time things got bad, I kept waiting for that guy to come back.”

“And he would.”

“For a while.” She sighs. “Counseling. Apologies. Six months of good behavior.” Her mouth twists. “Sound familiar?”

Quite unfortunately.

“His drinking…” Her voice cracks, and I lean in closer. “It might not have been the only reason, but I had multiple miscarriages. Then I found out he’d been siphoning money from my accounts for years to cover gambling debts. Meanwhile, everyone around me had an opinion about what I should do differently. Work less. Be a better wife. Sell the shop. Forgive him again. I tried. Of course I didn’t sell the shop. It was my baby through all the heartache. Until…”

My tail goes still in her hair, and I hum gratefully, “Bethie.”

“The last time he cheated, I was pregnant with her. Then one night he was drinking, lost his temper, and put his fist through a wall.” She says it plainly, not like a wound being reopened. More like something she has already survived. “By then I’d started recording things. Texts. Phone calls. And the hole. I packed while he was gone and left.”

“Good.”

She laughs softly. “Very nuanced response.”

“I possess others. They involve considerably more violence.”