Chapter 13

Casimir

Okay, so I'll be the first to admit that our afternoon started off a little… rocky. Yep, that's a good word for it. But in my defense , no one explained we would travel in a tiny metal cage that runs with absolutely no magic.

Humans, amiright?

When I asked if we could teleport instead, I got a lecture. Blah, blah, the only magic we're allowed to use is to hide our horns, blah.

Boring, if you ask me.

Both Amon and I agree to behave, and once I overcome the initial shock of the car moving, I enjoy the ride. Although, I'll never admit it was me who squealed at the first motion of the wheels.

Breathtaking landscapes roll by, and I'm plastered to the window in awe. "What are those?" I ask for what must be the fifteenth time, and Rory's chuckle is still as entertained.

He follows my finger to the black and white cluster of animals, their wide bellies and skinny legs seeming to defy gravity. "Cows," he says, and I repeat the word a few times, letting it roll around in my mouth.

"They do not appear suitable for mounting and riding into battle. Too slow."

His eyebrow quirks. "Are there many battles in Hell to ride into?"

Amon snorts at the question. "There's an ongoing battle to be first in line at the market."

"Don't… don't you just… wait your turn?" His confusion is obvious, and Amon and I furrow our brows as we stare at him.

"Of course not," Amon says, rightly horrified. "Wait?"

"What's the point of being a superior demon if you can't even be at the front of the line to pay for your sandwich?"

Rory seems genuinely perplexed, and it only confuses us further. "But…" he starts, then stops and closes his mouth, thinking for a moment before speaking. "How do you determine the order if it's not based on when you arrived?"

"Duel." His jaw hangs open at our synchronized response.

"You… fight each other for the first spot in the queue? How long does that take?"

Amon tugs his lip between his teeth, recalling a memory of an epic clash, no doubt. "Hours, sometimes."

"But… how… why…" Rory stutters as I watch him, curious. "Wouldn't it be faster to just… wait?"

"And let someone else reign supreme? I think not!" Amon cries, disgusted at the idea.

"Once, the battle to pay for my sandwich took so long that I tucked it in my pocket and forgot about it. By the time I left, it was no longer good and there was mayonnaise everywhere." I mourn the loss with a heavy sigh. Both of them give me a blank stare before turning their attention elsewhere.

Rude.

"So, it's all a giant dick measuring contest?" Rory asks, and my wide eyes shoot to Amon's, already unbuttoning our pants.

"That is a fantastic idea… why have we never thought of this?" Both of us are whipping it out before Rory realizes what is happening in the back seat. "Perhaps this is a better way to determine who goes first."

Amon nods, then glances at my cock in my hand. "No need to measure—I win."

I scoff, giving myself a few strokes. "I'm a grower, not a shower, so that's not a fair fight. Give me a sec—"

Rory releases an unnecessarily dramatic gasp, undertones of shock mixed in. "What are you two doing back there?" He struggles to peer over his shoulder, unable to divert his attention from the road.

"Nothing," we say in perfect unison, hurrying to tuck ourselves into our jeans. I frown at my half-chub that pushes against the denim, pressing my palm against it and grunting at the pressure.

Amon shoots me a look , before flashing an unnaturally wide smile at Rory. "We are being good boys."

"The best boys who are not at all suspicious," I add helpfully.

Why doesn't he look convinced?

Rory runs his errands, stopping at places called The Post Office and The Bank, but we aren't allowed to leave the car. We don't even have enough time for another dick measuring contest before he returns, narrowing his eyes both times like he expected us to be missing.

He still isn't aware of the power he wields, which is as endearing as it is na?ve. Witches of the past had such mastery over their demons that they could manipulate our every action. If you were commanded not to breathe until you suffocated, you had no other option.

In hindsight, I realize I should have offered him more guidance from the beginning. Even without knowing him, it was crystal clear that his intentions were never evil. His pure soul would never knowingly exploit another being, demon or not.

Instead, I used him for my own purposes.

Guilt swims in my gut, and a hard elbow hits me in the ribs. I yelp as Amon silently questions me with his eyes. I shake my head, giving him a look that says we'll discuss it later, nodding towards Rory. He stares for a moment, then nods.

"Okay." Rory already sounds exhausted from a conversation we haven't had yet. "Real talk. Can both of you be on your best behavior?"

"Yes," I say, as Amon says, "Debatable." This time I ram my elbow into his side, and he gives a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, Rory, we can act like civilized beings. Well… I don't have to act, but Cas can fake it and pretend not to be an uncultured swine for a short while, I imagine."

Behind the seat where Rory can't see, I flip Amon my middle finger. "Fuck you," I mouth, and he smirks.

"Later, baby," he says out loud, to which Rory's eyebrows fly up to hit his hairline.

My mouth hangs open as I blink repeatedly, and then I let out a theatrical gasp. "Did you just offer to—"

"No!" he shouts, realizing what his words implied. "Your cock will come nowhere near my—"

Rory's voice booms through the car, shocking us both into silence. "Did you not just say you could behave!?" Chastised, both our heads sag in submission to the power.

"Sorry," I mutter, and Amon grumbles his apology as Rory takes a deep, calming breath.

"If you can behave—and right now, that is a big if—I'll allow you to come inside the grocery store with me." We both whip our heads up so fast my horn digs into the roof of the car and gets a little… stuck. Amon snorts as I jerk my head a few times and dislodge myself, grimacing at the tear in the upholstery. I stretch, nonchalantly placing my palm over the hole.

Rory stares for a long moment in his little mirror. "Cas?" he finally says, not looking away.

"Hmm?" I put on my best innocent face as I smile back at him.

"Did you stab my car?"

"I, um, wouldn't say ‘stabbed,' really…"

He's not amused, so I smile wider, hoping to distract him, but it doesn't work. "Okay… did you impale my car with your horn?"

Slowly, I nod, careful not to get too close to the ceiling. "It would seem so."

His lips tug into a straight line as he pulls them between his teeth. "And you thought you could… what? Hold your hand there permanently so I'd never notice?"

Again, I nod, and he sighs. "Put your hand down, Cas."

"Are you sure you don't want me to just…"

"Down!" he shouts, the command forcing my hands to my lap. He twists over his shoulder and stares at the hole in the fabric. Another long, drawn-out sigh leaves his nose until he shakes his head. Under his breath, he mutters, "Demons…"

"You'll notice I'm being a good boy," Amon says from beside me, smug as can be, but I resist the urge to elbow him again.

Best behavior and all.

The internal conflict within Rory is displayed on his face, his eyes shifting between us, and I pinpoint the exact moment he caves. "There are rules." Amon and I both lean forward, but the seatbelt catches and unexpectedly throws me backward into the seat, making me cough.

It doesn't appear to help Rory's confidence, but I smile and inch forward again.

"Rules, you say?" I prompt, and he blinks at me again, like I'm the troublemaker here. He clearly hasn't seen Amon after an entire jug of demon brew. Those are mental images that you can't even bleach away.

"First rule is keep your hands to yourself. Touch nothing, especially other people."

"What if someone attempts to harm you in the line battle?" I butt in, and Amon nods in agreement. "You must be protected, Rory."

"While that is… strangely sweet… it leads me to rule number two. There will under no circumstances be a line battle."

Well, that's extreme.

Amon shares my concern, if the deepening crease between his brows is any indication. "How will you pay for your items? Are we stealing them?"

"Ooooh!" I nod at his ingenuity. "That is a good idea—"

"No stealing!" Rory shouts.

"Is that… rule three?" I ask, hoping he notices how much attention I'm paying to the number of his rules.

He seems even more exasperated now, so I decide that maybe, just maybe, I should be quiet. "Cas…"

"Rory…" I drawl, before catching myself and resuming my vow of silence.

"Casimir," he says, somehow enunciating every letter in my name. "We do not steal things. That doesn't have to be a rule, because it's a fact of life. Are we clear?" I nod, keeping my lips sealed. After a piercing stare, his eyes move to Amon. "We will pay for our items by waiting patiently in line with the rest of the shoppers. This is not up for debate!" Amon looks like he's about to argue but deflates and nods instead.

"Last rule is to stay with me and not wander off. I need to keep my eye on you both at all times."

A frown tugs at my mouth, and I squirm in my seat, still attempting silence, but the wry curiosity in Rory's expression makes me blurt out, "How will you see?"

"What?" His face wrinkles up adorably as he tilts his head at me.

"If you have an eyeball touching us both, we will have to stand very close, and you won't be able to see well. It also sounds quite uncomfortable…"

"Cas…" His sigh is exhausted, so I shut my mouth again. It's possible that my strategy of staying silent was the right move. I can just figure this out as we go. "It's a saying that means I'm going to watch you closely. Not… actually putting my eyeball on you."

"That would be scratchy and irritating," I say.

"And gross," Amon adds, and Rory sighs again. He watches the building where humans walk in and out, like he's having doubts.

Not for the first time, fear of disappointing him churns in my belly. It's an unfamiliar sensation that I'm unsure how to handle.

My hand lands on Rory's shoulder and his attention returns to me. "I'm sorry I have disappointed you," I say, voice quiet as I lower my gaze to my lap. "It was not intentional, Rory, but I will try harder to adapt to your human world. I won't ask so many questions."

As our eyes meet again, his have softened, and he gently covers my hand with his. "No, it's me who should apologize. Everything is new to you, and I should be more patient. You're here because of me, and it's unfair for me to get short with you."

"But you already are short," I whisper, and his lips curl into a beautiful smile, although I'm not sure why.

"Don't stop asking questions, Cas, okay? You're curious, and I love that about you."

Another foreign feeling swirls deep inside me as I stare into his bright green eyes, my pulse speeding up. I rush forward, pressing my mouth to his as he lets out the sweetest gasp against my kiss. The discomfort of my contorted position in this tiny car fades away, replaced by the pure pleasure of his soft and malleable lips.

"If you want me to continue to be good ," Amon purrs, stressing the word as Rory's eyes fly open, darting to his wicked smile. "You might reconsider the show you're giving me right now." Rory's eyes drop and he squeaks at the growing erection in Amon's pants.

The break in the tension is a relief, because my mind is swirling with confusing emotions that cloud my judgement. A distraction is just what I need.