Page 34

Mine.

Chapter 3

Damian

Last night was a mistake.

Was not.

Was too.

She likes steak.

Shut up.

I ignore my baser instincts while I contemplate what I need to do next. Because dinner with my gorgeous, distracting, infuriating neighbor is so not a good idea.

Neither is noticing the way she smiles when she forgets to be defensive.

Or remembering how vulnerable she looked when she admitted her family made her feel like there was something wrong with her body.

And how much I wanted to hunt them down and make them eat their words. Literally.

Fact: there is nothing wrong with Belinda Ramos’s body.

Not one single thing.

I know that because I’ve thought about it approximately six thousand times since last night.

Fuck.

This is precisely why she has to go. My control is hanging by a thread. Any day now, the ancient Demonic magic that created my entire Cryptid family—the Jersey Devils—is going to win.

And when my Devil takes over permanently, the shit will have officially hit the fan.

I have to tell Owen.

The Sheriff is a buddy of mine. More importantly, he's Wolf enough to do what needs doing.

Because if Grandmother Leeds refuses to put me down when the time comes, I need someone who will.

I hope Owen can.

My gaze slides toward the rambling Victorian next door.

Bell’s Books, Bed & Breakfast.

Ridiculous name. Ridiculous idea. Completely ridiculous woman.

But there’s more to it than that. See, I don't want Belinda here when it happens.

I don't want those big brown eyes looking at me with fear. Worse, I don't want to be the reason it's there. Which is why I might have acquired a little insurance last night.

Fine. I sabotaged her house.

Nothing dangerous.

Just a series of harmless tricks designed to convince my stubborn little Witch that reopening a haunted B&B two weeks before Halloween is a spectacularly bad idea.