Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Female children never survived because they weren’t big enough assholes. Not the case for the Greystone males, though.
Anywhoodles, it all led to two sets of DNA, two souls sharing one body. The evil prisoner and the jail keeper.
Really, the whole thing was an abomination. One big accident!
Fast-forward to today, and Damien was the last of his kind. With him, the last rage demon would finally die out. I.e., it was never in the cards for Damien to procreate. Who does he think ratted to Willa’s hubby about the baby not being his? Yes, a dick move, but no one ever said protecting humanity from rage demons was pretty.
Of course, that did not mean that Cimil wouldn’t use Damien while he lived. That kind of hotness mixed with intelligence and fighting skills didn’t come along often.
But babies? More Greystones with rage demons inside them? No. Absolutely not. Cimil had to nip this Willabeast sitch in the bud.
Cimil looked at Minky. “Time to pull the plug, Minkster. Kill Willa.”
Minky howled.
“Yes, yes. I know. The plan was to let Damien discover for himself what a treacherous woman Willa is and that his love was never real—all just a fancy mind trick. That way he’d pick Sky, but Sky wouldn’t pick him back, and he’d finally, once and for all, give up on love! Then I’d have the use of his skills until he dies in a glorious volcano mishap.” He was immortal, yes, but not Cimil’s kind of immortal. Damien could die if his body was destroyed. Kind of like a vampire.
“I hear you, Minky. But you must take out Willa. Make it look like it’s the beast’s fault or an accident. And yes, you can wait until they’re done having sex. I’m not a monster.”
Minky flashed away, and Cimil went back to work. “Now, where was I?” Cimil looked down at the man tied up in her backyard firepit.
She’d caught this creep in the bushes at the park, touching himself by the swings while looking at her precious little evil ones.
“Ah, yes.” Cimil grabbed a book of matches from her pocket. “I am sorry to inform you, but the Underworld is too good for your kind. You are going straight to hell. Aka, the Underworld’s basement.” She smiled down at the man lying under a pile of marshmallows.
“Cimil, darling, where are you?” Roberto, her hubby, called from inside the house.
“Just taking out the trash! Be right there!”
Minky suddenly returned, yammering on about something.
“What do you mean ‘Willa put the whammy on the vampire, and if she dies, he’ll immediately explode’?” Was that even possible? If so, where could she learn that mindfuck? “So I can’t kill Willa without losing Maxton?”
Minky neighed.
“It is as if she read my mind and knew what was coming.”
Minky added a few other tidbits. Apparently, Willa had also commanded Maxton to come willingly to LA.
“This is good! Great even. We just need Maxton to make a bunch of vampires, starting with my hubby and kiddos, and then we can take out Willa. We won’t need her or the vampire anymore.”
Minky shrieked.
“Your pious lectures are getting boring, Minky. We can’t make everyone happy. MF’s heart will heal eventually. She will find a new mate. Someday.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Boss. Boss! You need to wake up. Hurry!” MF jostled Damien’s shoulder.
“Jesus, my head.” Damien woke the next morning in the moist dirt next to a smoldering campfire. “What happened?” he groaned.
“I don’t know, but you have a bigger issue than your noggin.” MF looked down at his fully exposed groin.
Damien sighed. “Don’t tell me. The beast took over again.”
“Whatever he did, you need to thank him because everyone’s waiting on you to get to the helicopter. Everyone including Maxton.” MF clapped excitedly, jumping on the balls of her feet.
Damien sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. “What are you talking about?”
“You did it! Whatever you said to Maxton last night worked. We have just enough time to get to LA to present him to Cimil.”
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember a thing past giving control over to the beast. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yeah, dude. So get your leather pants up. By the way, why are they down?”
Damien stood slowly and pulled up his shame, aka the pants. He loathed wearing clothing that fit improperly. “The beast’s idea of a joke, no doubt.”
“Don’t know anyone who could laugh at that shlong.” She grinned. “You got it going on, tailor.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. Damien grabbed his things, his head spinning in two different directions. In one direction, he wondered why he kept blacking out. This was not good. It meant he couldn’t jump in and take over if the beast was crossing any lines, which he usually did. In the other direction, Damien wondered what the beast had done to sway the vampire.