Accidentally Demonic

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Accidentally Demonic Page 32

by Dakota Cassidy


  Clay kissed Wanda’s cheek. “I promise to take good care of her, but from the sounds of things, she doesn’t need much help after what happened tonight.”

  “That’s because she’s a Schwartz,” Wanda said with a smile. “Can I trust you to explain the feeding thing, Clay?”

  Casey’s stomach took a dive when Clay nodded, her face green, but Wanda chucked her under the chin. “Trust me, you won’t think it’s so bad once you’ve done it. Now give me a hug, and call if you need me, okay?”

  She hugged Wanda hard. “Thank you. I know I’ve been a crappy sister, but I love you, and I appreciate everything you’ve done. I promise it won’t be like it’s been in the past.”

  “Good. Because now that you’re part of the BFF circle, I’m handing Nina off to you for a year,” she said with a laugh. “I love you, honey. Go do mated things. And hurry—you’ll need to feed soon.” She waved a hand over her shoulder at them, picking her way through the rubble.

  “Casey, you done good tonight. Made me proud to be demon.” Darnell placed a beefy hand on her shoulder. “But if you evah stick me to a wall like that again, I’m gonna show you what real vermin is,” he joked.

  Casey hugged him tight. “Thank you for everything, and don’t be a stranger.”

  Darnell held his fist out to Clay. “You go get you some demon, man.”

  Clay bumped his fist. “Done.”

  Darnell grinned. “Aight, then,” he said. “Peace out.” He held up two fingers, then vanished.

  Twisting her around, Clay pulled her close. “I’m going to be very serious here for a minute. So take heed, woman, because it doesn’t happen often.”

  “Heeding,” she murmured, leaning into him, reveling in his solid strength.

  “You did something so goddamned stupid, if I didn’t want to throw you down and have my way with you, I’d kick your cute ass. Don’t ever, ever enter into a bargain with a demon, ever again—”

  Outrage assaulted her. “Stupid is as stupid does. You did the same thing—”

  He silenced her with a kiss she couldn’t fight the deliciousness of.

  When Clay pulled his lips from hers, he grinned. “I did it because I didn’t have any other choice, and I didn’t want you to have to make a choice. But pay close attention. I can never thank you enough for what you did, not just for me but for Naomi. That all the nights of fearing the worst for her because she was attached to Hildegard are over. I don’t know how to express how grateful I am. What you did was reckless, and stupid, and crazy, but I’ll never forget it.” He ran a gentle finger over her cheek, his eyes soaking her up.

  Embarrassed, she smiled coyly. “Yeah, well, you might want to forget it when I batter your eardrums with my Yanni CDs. Oh, and then there’s John Tesh and Kenny G. Can’t forget Kenny.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot—this is an eternity thing.” His eyes smiled his amusement.

  “Yep, so Yanni it is, pal. Forevah.”

  He dragged her to him. “Fine. I can live with Yanni, but I’m not knitting.”

  “Don’t be such a naysayer. Who couldn’t use a nice scarf in the winter?”

  “I dunno, but I do know what I could use. . . .” His grin took a steamy turn.

  “What’s that?”

  His phone rang before he had the chance to answer. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his cell and flipped it open, then nodded knowingly. “It’s my precious, moody angel. Now officially your stepdaughter.”

  As Clay answered, Casey soaked in the impact of that statement. Her stepdaughter. Her teenage stepdaughter.

  “Hi, honey,” Clay answered. He frowned. “No. Absolutely not. What have I told you about boys at the house when I’m not there? No. Boys. Young lady. None. They’re all dogs in heat. We’ll talk about this when I get home. Now go do your homework. I love you.”

  Casey swatted at his arm playfully. “So you’re one of those fathers.”

  “Speaking of, how do you feel about being a stepmother?”

  Putting her arms around his neck, she curled her fingers in his hair, laughing up at him. “A little freaked out isn’t a phrase I’d use fast and loose right now.”

  His face took a serious turn. “There’s no turning back, Casey.”

  Nah. She was good with heading forward. “Nobody said anything about turning anywhere.”

  “So we’re in.” He didn’t ask. He stated.

  Yep. She was as in, as committed, as deep as she’d ever been. “We’re in.”

  “Nice. So whaddya say I take you back to my swinging bachelor pad and we investigate the feeding thing. Wanda’s right. You have to feed soon, and she’s also right when she says it’s a good thing. It can be very pleasurable if it’s consenting.”

  “I say okay, but I want to know in advance if I yark on you, you won’t be mad. You do have a tendency to be very cranky.”

  He drew her lips to his. “You won’t want to yark when I’m done with you, Ms. Schwartz.”

  Shivers spread along her arms in anticipation—even with the feeding thing. “Isn’t it Gunnersson now?”

  “Yeah. It sorta is.”

  “Hookay, then, let’s go swing,” she said on a chuckle.

  “Wait. One question, and this is serious—no toying with my emotions, either. I don’t want to go through all this shit just to find myself dumped and drowning my sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s while I look at your picture with longing and wander around my house in your old T-shirts.”

  Casey laughed without reservation, from deep within. “My T-shirts are too small for you, and you don’t eat. So what’s on your mind?”

  “How do I know all this crazy passion you’ve been experiencing for me isn’t just a result of Hildegard’s blood running through your veins? The transference was much deeper than we originally thought, and as I guess you’ve found out, I wasn’t just Hildegard’s meal ticket. She was hot for me in a big way. So maybe you’re not really succumbing to my incredibly sexy charm, though I find that hard to believe. Maybe, and I say this even though it’s ridiculous, but maybe you’re being fooled during your adjustment period. Maybe it’ll wear off, and that would be tragic because I’m a crazy-awesome catch.” He raised an eyebrow in question, but his smile was playful.

  Nuzzling his lips, she said on a sigh, “Then I guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out how you rate on the awesome scale of one to ten, won’t you?”

  EPILOGUE

  Eight Months, Four Freaky- Deaky Paranormal Accidents, and One Mouthy, Sullen, Moody Teenage Vampire Later . . .

  And stick around Clay did. In fact, Casey and Clay stuck around a lot.

  Together.

  So much so that they’d fallen head over heels in love. They took things slowly at first. Casey insisted they date while they got to know each other, and Clay agreed. Clay bought her tickets to a Yanni concert and almost managed to make the entire event without falling asleep. In turn, she brought earplugs to the Nine Inch Nails soiree and only winced once. Many a night found them on the couch together, Clay watching football, Casey knitting a blanket, their feet intertwined in companionable silence.

  Without the pressure of Hildegard’s presence, Clay was a new breed of man—fun, thoughtful, powerful, smart, and the best damned frolic between a set of sheets evah.

  But most important, they complemented each other. Clay understood her need to be independent and self-sufficient. So when she took a job as a pole- dancing instructor at the Y in order to help pay for her degree in teaching, he was behind her 100 percent with the prereq that it only involve middle-aged housewives. He’d even picked up some nifty thongs for her to wear at home. “You know, to keep you feeling as one with your inner stripper,” he’d joked with a lascivious grin. He hadn’t offered to pay for her classes, and Casey assumed his understanding came from a sixth sense that she needed to prove to herself she could do it on her own—without the generous help from him or even Wanda. Though she knew he would if she asked him to.

  And she got t
hat he had responsibilities that involved more than just the two of them. He had Naomi. Free and clear. Though, Clay often joked had Naomi ended up in Hell, Lucifer would have never survived her ever-changing moods. Casey’s level head and practicality kept Clay from continuing on the path of overbearing and so totally overreacting where Naomi was concerned.

  She was the voice of reason, the flip side of the coin when Clay turned into Attila the Father.

  Casey understood Naomi’s mood swings better than anyone—especially after the events of the last few months—and little by little, she and Naomi had forged a relationship based on trust and a friendship only two girls can share. When Clay was off golfing, they giggled long into the night about boys while they watched horror movies and hung out. You could often find the two studying together in comfortable silence, banging out a Metallica tune on Rock Band—or listening to Nickelback while they painted each other’s nails. Casey didn’t force the issue of the addition of another parental unit in Naomi’s life, and it was the clincher in a deal born of unbelievable circumstance, then nurtured over time.

  They had become a family—if an unconventional one—and she’d never been happier—more fulfilled—more in love.

  Fighting his way through four dozen pink balloons, Clay came to stand at the dining room entryway to watch Naomi greet her guests at the front door. “So how many sweet-sixteen parties do you suppose a girl can have? It’s not like we can say, ‘she’ll only be sixteen once,’ ” Clay commented against the top of Casey’s head, frowning at the arrival of two boys, one riddled with acne, and the other with braces, both almost as tall as Clay.

  Casey chuckled, standing on tiptoe to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Oh, honey, I promise it’ll be just one if you promise to keep your overbearing, vampire nose out of her party.”

  He grunted. So out of character.

  Naomi turned then, smiling at Casey and Clay. Dark- haired and blue-eyed, she took Casey’s breath away. She was stunning—even with two eyebrow piercings, deep purple lipstick, and her new fondness for black clothing. “Daddy? Stop freaking out. I swear. You’ll always be the only man in my life.”

  Clay swiped a finger along her nose with a grin. “Super Stepmom told you to say that, didn’t she?”

  Naomi giggled, sweet and girlish. “Whatever. She’s still right.”

  Clay winked. “I can’t deny the truth. She owns me.”

  “Total ownage,” Naomi said with a nod.

  Flapping a hand, Casey shooed Naomi off. “Go—be sixteen. Leave your father’s presence before he gets the chains and decides to turn the basement into a dungeon.”

  Naomi gave her a quick hug, and whispered, “Thank you. He never would’ve done this without you.”

  Clay mocked a hurt expression. “Would, too.”

  Casey snuggled against his side, breathing in the welcoming scent of his familiar cologne. “Oh, baloney. You would not, either. But it’ll be fine. Naomi’s a good girl, and if she hasn’t proven that to you in as many centuries, then you’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

  “Give the kid a fucking break,” Nina crowed from behind the couple. Everyone was seated around the long stretch of Casey and Clay’s dining room table, pretending to lie low for Naomi’s sake. “Besides, do you really think shit would go down with us here? And Jesus, Clay. She’s been a teenager for a gazillion years. Imagine how much that sucks hairy balls. All I can say is I’m damned glad this shit didn’t go down when I was sixteen.”

  “Hah!” Marty cackled, bouncing Hollis on her knee to keep her distracted while Keegan blew bubbles for her from a pink wand. “I bet there’re centuries’ worth of high school kids who feel the same way.”

  “Oh, Miss Marty, can you imagine the rumbles that might have passed had Miss Nina had her vampiric powers so early on. Surely, given that kind of time on her hands, she could have made school-yard rumble history,” Archibald joked, straightening his suit jacket after setting Naomi’s cake on the table. True to his word, Archibald really was an incredible cook, as proven by many a meal he sent over for Casey because, in his words, “How can one truly indulge in the art of culinary delights for those whose diet is limited by rare beef and blood?”

  Nina laughed, leaning into Greg’s chest. “You get funnier and funnier, Arch. Must be all that hanging out with Wanda you do.”

  “Hey!” Wanda piped up, holding Heath’s hand and smiling. “I have to have a sense of humor with the both of you. God was seriously snarking me when He saddled me with you and Marty for eternity.”

  Casey giggled, sending a warm smile Wanda’s way. They’d made up for lost time since her “accident.” She’d gone on shopping trips to the designer outlet mall with the girls and her sister, eaten at Hogan’s Diner, and at least twice a month, you could find the four women harassing some poor waiter at the House of Hwang on karaoke night. Casey made the effort to reenter Wanda’s life instead of hiding in shame with the blanket of her mistakes covering her. In fact, Casey’d even offered to volunteer her time to Wanda and Heath’s relief effort for reverted vampires, and they’d begun to research a new potential for a support group for other accidentals, not just those who’d turned back into humans, but all species of the paranormal.

  “Because seriously, we can’t be the only fucking accidents,” Nina had joked. “How much you got says there’s some poor chick out there who’s like a fire- breathing dragon, all scaly and shit, because she was bitten by her lame-assed boyfriend’s Iguana?”

  If it had happened four times in just a couple of years to a group of women not even six degrees separated, Nina said, she’d bet her left lung, if she still had one, there were others just like them.

  They had all agreed she had a point—who better than them to aid and abet?

  Casey sighed with contentment. Life was incredibly good, and the bit of envy she’d felt about Wanda’s life had turned her into an active participant in pursuing her own.

  Everything was damned close to perfect. Well, except that overprotective- father thing. Rolling her eyes, she caught Clay by the loop of his jeans when he attempted to make a getaway and a beeline for Naomi, who was dancing in the middle of the living room with, according to her, the crush of her lifetimes. “Oh, no, killa. It’s just some dancing. Let them be or there’ll be no goody bag for you to open later tonight,” she teased.

  Clay stayed put, but kept one watchful eye on Naomi. “Always with the threats of no nookie. And I signed on for life? I dunno, cupcake,” he teased with a grin. “That’s some harsh shit you’re doling out.”

  Casey snapped her fingers, lighting each tip with a controlled, low-burning flame. “Not nearly as harsh as your sentence will be if I have to lob fireballs at you—and we both know how good I am at that. Now cut—it—out.” She kissed his yummy lips as a warning.

  Darnell poked his head between them with a grin. “Hey, we need a light,” he said, pointing to the cake. “Use them fingers fo’ good, Case.”

  Casey turned to head for the table, but Clay stopped her, pulling her to mold against his hard frame.

  She gave him a questioning gaze.

  “Save a dance for me later? You know, so we can do the grind thing all slow-like.”

  Casey gave him a saucy grin filled with the happiness he’d given her. “Like I’d pass that up. I’d grind all slow- like with you anytime, anywhere.”

  Or forever.

  Whichever rolled around first.

 

 

 


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