Chapter 12

Rory

The sound of shattering glass rings through the house, followed by raised voices, and I sprint into the kitchen, taking in the scene.

Or, at least, trying.

Dishes are splintered on the floor, swept off the counter into danger confetti. Cas dangles in the air, his feet swinging freely as Amon's hand squeezes tightly around his throat. The strain causes Cas's skin to redden, veins distended on his neck and forehead. Amon looks furious , his eyes glowing and his teeth bared, nose to nose as he growls like a feral animal.

"What have you done to me, Casimir?" he bellows, shaking Cas so hard that he thuds against the wall. To my surprise, the tears that roll down Cas's face are gleeful as he wheezes a laugh from his restricted airway. A loud rumble boils up Amon's throat, and his cheeks puff out as his eyes widen further. "What is this witchcraft?" Cas is slammed into the sheetrock again as he chokes a cackle.

"Amon!" I shout, taking a step forward, and he whips his furious glare to me.

"Is this your doing?" He shakes Cas one more time just for the hell of it. "Are you the concoctor of this… poison? "

A crushed can on the floor catches my eye as Amon continues to snarl back and forth between the two of us, and realization hits me. My breath whizzes out like a popped tire as I drag my hand down my face. "Cas… did you give him a Doctor Pepper?"

" THAT IS NO DOCTOR !" Amon roars, which only causes Cas to laugh harder. It makes me question whether demons need oxygen to breathe, because his mouth is turning blue. My lips tug between my teeth as I attempt to hold in my laughter, knowing how Amon will react to it, but when he releases another quiet burp, I can't help it.

I giggle.

And then when I try to stop, I snort.

Cas meets my eyes, absolutely thrilled even as he's strangled. Realizing I need to put an end to this before a homicide—demoncide?—happens in my kitchen, I turn to Amon and force inflection into my voice. "Amon, release him." His nostrils flare and his long, flowing hair whips back and forth as he attempts to fight my command, but eventually he gives in, growling as he places Cas on his feet.

The sound of Cas refilling his lungs is a jarring, five-second-long gasping inhale that breaks the silence, obnoxious and endlessly dramatic.

"Was that really necessary?" I ask, and Cas shrugs as Amon crosses his arms, jaw ticking. I turn to him and place a gentle hand on his arm.

Patient. I can be patient. "It was a soda, Amon. Harmless."

"Harmless my ass! I shall seek revenge—"

Aaaand there goes that patience.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Just slow down!" I shout over him, stopping him mid-rant while mentally sending an apology to Granny for the F-bomb. A deep breath calms me. "It's a sugary drink filled with bubbles, and if you shake it, it will explode. Drink it too fast, and it'll do the same to you. You'll burp. A lot."

Amon frowns, his suspicious eyes darting to the annihilated can. "Why must they falsely name this potion after a healer? It is misleading!"

"Jesus Wolverine Christ," I mutter. "You know, I was considering asking if you two were interested in actually leaving this house, but if you're going to behave like children…"

Amon's back straightens, as if his good posture will erase the fact that he was strangling someone less than ninety seconds ago. Cas grins in a way that borders crazed, crowding me and wrapping his arms around my neck.

"We won't cause trouble," he promises, and I believe him for exactly zero seconds. My skepticism must be glaringly obvious, because he tightens his grip on my shoulders and forces me to face him, almost vibrating with excitement. "Rory, we will be so good for you. Don't you know that? We can be such…" He leans in and kisses my lips in a flurry before nipping at my ear, "… such good boys."

"I won't be." Amon's voice is dry and disapproving of the groveling.

"Fine," I say, a sly smirk forming as I meet his gaze. "Cas can go, and you'll be left behind, locked away in the attic. We'll call you Rapunzel."

Amon's nostrils flare as his frown tightens, narrowing his eyes at me. "Who is this Rapunzel and why would I take his name?" Images of Amon in a long braided wig flash through my mind, and I bite at my lip, fighting a giggle. He glares before continuing. "It matters not. Why is Cas allowed to go if I am forbidden? It is a foolish decision, Rory. I am the more powerful demon."

Arms crossed, his chest puffs out as he says it, like a proud turkey with ram horns. My smirk tugs into my cheeks as Cas bounces excitedly on his feet. "Go ahead, Cas. Tell him why."

"Because I'm a good boy." He is pleased as pie as an irritated Amon bites the inside of his cheek, dimpling the skin with a small indent.

"Can you be a good boy, Amon?" I try and fail to hide my grin.

The silence stretches out so long I doubt he's going to answer, but he finally mumbles so low I barely hear him. "Yes."

"Yes… what?"

A scoff rushes from his lips as he rolls his eyes so far back, he probably sees his own ass. "Yes, I can… be a… good boy." He spits the words out like they're bitter, with a sneer that's been crafted and honed over centuries.

"Now, now," I tsk, enjoying his irritation way too much. "That's not very convincing, is it, Amon?" His lips twitch and his nostrils flare even wider as his face tips up, the faint crimson glow in his eyes telling me that his temper is on a razor's edge right now.

But I'm realizing that while he talks a big game, he's not as tough as he likes to appear.

All bark, just a little bite.

A broody, growling nibbler, if you will.

Cas is still bouncing next to me as I slip out of his grip and take a step towards Amon. His gaze flickers to the small smirk on my lips before lifting, something hiding in the shadows of his eyes. Static buzzes in the air as I stop inches away, the tension thickening and swirling, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere.

"Convince me," I hear myself say, the husky timbre of my voice surprising even me with its boldness.

The internal war that's happening in his head plays out in real time as he battles himself, his pride getting in the way as the seconds count down in silence. He pulls his lips between his teeth and tilts his face skyward, heaving a drawn-out sigh, before he flips a switch. Irritation has been replaced by a heated smolder that drapes over me like silk, his eyes hooded and sultry.

"Human—" He catches himself, clearing his throat. He tries again, my name rolling off his tongue like sin incarnate. "Rory, if you'd allow me to accompany you out of the house today, I assure you I'd…" The syrupy, thick chuckle doesn't leave his throat as his tongue wets his lips.

He steps forward, pressing his bare chest against me as his fingers reach up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Well," he murmurs, with another of those deep chuckles. It's low and seductive, a dangerous combination that has my cock perking up, eavesdropping like they nosy bitch it is. "I'd certainly find many… creative ways to thank you."

Silly demon, thinking that he'll make me forget my mission.

I can be horny and crafty.

"And how will you do that, Amon?"

His low, growly hum, almost a purr, resonates in my ear as he leans in. "I would be such a very… very good boy for you," he whispers, scraping my lobe with his teeth. My breath catches despite myself, and his cheeks rise in a smile against my skin. "In fact… if you require proof of just how good I can be, I'm willing to demonstrate."

Strong hands land on my lower back as he presses his hard body against me, and I melt into it, an obscene moan slipping from my lips. There's pressure behind me as Cas pins me between them, his lips finding my other ear.

What a predicament to find myself in, caught between these two beautiful men.

A demon bread sandwich stacked with juicy red meat.

Woe is me.

Before my imagination can get away from me—and it is really getting away from me—I force myself to speak. "Now, now, boys. No rewards before you earn them."

Cas gives another little bounce on his feet that makes me smile, but it stutters when I glance up and find Amon's intense stare locked on me. There's a heat in his eyes, but underneath, something else lurks.

Softer, perhaps.

Confused.

Undeterred and unaware of the tension brewing between us, Cas speaks from behind me. "Does that mean we get to go somewhere? Oh, please, Rory! Please?"

"Only if you promise to really be good." The tiny smile that finds me can't be helped.

Amon leans down and grasps my chin with his iron grip, tilting my face up so suddenly I gasp. "So good," he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against mine in a move that has my entire head swimming. "But only for you… only ever for you."

"I won't tell," I whisper on an exhale, so quiet I mouth the words more than speak them, but they hit their target. He pulls back with that same conflict hiding under his intense stare.

"What, uh… what's going on here, guys?" Cas asks, and Amon's eyes dart to him, finally releasing their hold on me. Realization hits me that I'm still pinned against him, enjoying the drag of his thumb across my jawline. I push away while an ounce of sanity remains in my hazy brain, dusting my hands and straightening my clothes.

Clothes…

I glance up at the two demons, shirtless and in their obscene gray pants—yes, Amon crafted himself a matching pair—and realize what a feat this will be. "Get dressed and we'll run some errands." It's not exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but Cas lights up like I've announced we're headed to Disneyland. Even Amon has an upward tilt to his lips that isn't full of snark.

"We are dressed," Amon says, gesturing at his body. At his painted-on pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

The sigh that escapes me is long and drawn out. "What did we just say about behaving?"

He matches my sigh with his own before the acceptance settles on his face. "Right." With a momentary close of his eyes, different clothes form over his skin—dark, snug-fitting jeans and a black button-up that strains over his chest. He pushes the sleeves up to his elbows, corded tendons flexing in his forearms with thick veins that web over the top.

Somehow, it's even more obscene than the sweatpants.

Just, y'know, without the dickprint.

I'm distracted as Cas dresses himself in ripped jeans and a simple red hoodie that's suspiciously the same shade as my devil undies. Amon's voice hits me right in my ear and makes me jump. "How's that for a good boy?"

Oh, sugar.