Page 6

“You’ve gotten pretty damn good at making coffee, my love,” Asmoday said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I, on the other hand, should not ever be allowed anywhere near a coffeemaker, unless it’s to pour something someone else has already brewed.”

“Your skills lie in other areas.” Daruka’s eyes glowed with little purple flames. I was pretty sure she was not referring to his cooking skills.

Although they were damn good.

“Maybe they should have hired you instead,” I suggested to Daruka.

It wasn’t too late. The town council owned the coffee shop, since Selina had chosen to move to Hell to be the devil’s consort. They wouldn’t sign it over to Cassandra this quickly. Surely, they’d expect a trial run first.

Daruka snorted. “Last time I checked, I’m already employed. And my manager loves me.”

It was true. I was said manager. And I did love her. Well, her skills. Although, she was pretty cool, too.

But, yeah, Daruka was a professional piercer, and she was damn good at her job. Hiring her had nearly doubled my income, so, yeah, I wasn’t letting her go if I could help it.

Sonofabitch.

“Besides, I don’t actually enjoy making coffee,” Daruka said. “I simply need it to keep my demon side in check.”

“She does get pretty grumpy without it,” Asmoday confirmed. “Sometimes not even sex helps.”

“Plus,” Daruka said, not at all nonplussed over her mate’s comment, “we need a witch in town. Selina was whacky, but she was good at helping the residents with the little things. Like Matilda’s glasses. And suppressing Asmoday’s pheromones.”

I’d noticed lately that some of the residents had started to look at our lust demon friend with far more interest than they’d ever expressed before, which told me that Selina’s spell was wearing off. Not good for Asmoday, who preferred that sort of attention from one person only.

“And if she isn’t using up all of her magic to keep herself beautiful, maybe she can help keep the hellmouth in check,” Daruka said.

She had good reason to want to keep the hellmouth from opening again. Her dad lived down there, and she had a rather contentious relationship with him. Although his last visit had ended satisfactorily enough.

Generally, the devil paying a visit did not end positively.

What had Queenie said about the new witch in town? “She’s apparently bad at being a witch.”

“What does that even mean?” Daruka asked.

I cupped my nape and grimaced.

Asmoday canted his head. “You know the new witch?”

An image of my drawing popped into my head. Or maybe it was an image of Cassandra.

They were one and the same, after all.

And Asmoday had seen the original drawing—the only person I’d shown it to—which meant he’d know as soon as Queenie brought her here and deposited her into his care.

“She’s my drawing.”

Asmoday furrowed his brows. “What the hell does that mean?”

I flapped my hand. “I drew her. She’s that drawing I showed you.”

“The pinup model?” Asmoday tugged open the lid on the nearest smoker. Smoke billowed out for a moment before he began basting the thick slabs of ribs resting on the grates.

“Wait,” he said, slowly closing the lid and turning to me, a spatula clutched in his hand. “Are you saying you dreamed about this new witch who is taking over the coffee shop?”

“Really?” Daruka stared at me, her brows raised.

Asmoday pointed at me with the spatula. “You have good taste.” And then his face split with a grin. “That’s fantastic, man. Congratulations.”