Not Your Ex's Hexes (Supernatural Singles, #2)(13)
Miguel’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You know damn well what I’m talking about, kid. I may be an old Norm without any kind of ‘super’ powers, but my observation skills are top-notch, and they tell me there’s history between you and our new hire.”
Damian glowered at his mentor. “She’s not a new hire. She’s serving out community service hours and then she’ll be on her way.”
“Maybe, but you knew her before she staged a Free Willy moment.”
He sighed, knowing the man wouldn’t give up until he got his answer. “She’s the sister of Linc’s True Mate.”
Miguel’s gaze flickered to the occupied office and back. “She’s the Maxwell Prima Apparent.”
“Was,” Damian corrected. “She stepped down when Vi came into her powers. Now she’s a thorn in my backside…”
And the one-night stand that kept visiting him in his fucking dreams, but Miguel didn’t need to know that.
It didn’t stop the older man from flashing a wide, toothy smile. “The demon doth protest too much, kid. You may be fooling her with that indifferent grumpy thing you’ve got going on, but you’re forgetting who knows you better than yourself. You can’t keep avoiding people, Ian.”
“Sure I can. It’s called work, and if we keep taking in rescues along with all of our regular patients, that makes it even more possible.”
“You need human interaction every once in a while.”
“That’s what I have you for, isn’t it?” Damian joked dryly. “Besides, I like animals better than most Norms and definitely better than all Supernaturals. Less complicated. Feed them, shelter them, give them an occasional scratch or two and you’ve got their loyalty forever … animals, that is.”
Rose came out of the office decked out in the paint-splattered overalls and rubber boots, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She gave him an eat-shit-and-die glare that had him almost smirking until he heard the rumble of a familiar engine pull up in front of the barn.
“Yo, yo! Is everyone up, or are you sleepyheads still sawing wood?” a familiar voice called from outside.
Damian and Miguel followed the sound of the growing banging to find their one and only employee jumping down from their beat-up horse trailer. Terrance Yoshida had volunteered at the sanctuary to fulfill service hours for school and the kid never left, earning himself a spot as one of the few people Damian could tolerate.
Behind Terrance, the horse trailer shook, its occupant kicking the shit out of the interior and damn near putting a hoof through the wall.
“Did you bring a horse or a rodeo bull?” Damian reached for the latch to release the animal. Some didn’t do well in confined spaces.
Terrance stopped him. “I wouldn’t do that just yet, boss man.”
“Why not?” Damian sensed the teenager’s hesitancy.
“Because we have to strategize how to get him out without him decapitating one of us.” Terrance rubbed the side of his head where Damian noticed a growing red knot. “Jasper doesn’t play around. One kick from him could send a man into orbit. I know because he tried.”
“This is the horse from Fink’s place?”
“Yep. One and the same.”
“His owner said he had only slight behavioral issues.”
Terrance snorted. “Yeah, he doesn’t have any. Behavior, that is. It took a whole lot of prayer, a ton of luck, and some witchy hocus-pocus to get him into the trailer. And it worked for a while, but it wore off about fifteen minutes ago. Let me tell you, it’s not easy staying in your lane on the LIE when your haul is moving around like a jackrabbit.”
“Did you say they spelled him?” Rose stepped up, her gaze zeroed in on the black horse muzzle pushed against the trailer’s venting. “Was this before or after he was already worked up?”
Terrance’s eyes widened as if he recognized her, and he probably did. The Norm kid was all about Supernatural society and probably had a subscription to every Supernatural gossip magazine out there. “After … but why does it matter? Fink spelled him to make it easier to load him. I mean, it worked for a while.”
“And then when it wears off, you have an animal who’s confined, not on solid ground, and even more frightened than they were before. No witch—at least a good one—would ever do that to a poor animal.”
Terrance shifted uneasily from foot to foot as Rose slowly stepped closer to the confined animal. Jasper huffed through the vent, his eyes wide and watching her approach.
“Why did you take him if he was this out of control?” Damian asked, more than a little annoyed. “We can’t put him with the other animals like this, not to mention have him around the clinic clients as they come and go. He’ll knock down the entire building, and that’s if he doesn’t hurt someone—or himself—first.”
Terrance kicked his shoes into the dirt. “I had to, Damian. Fink was selling him to a processing plant if someone didn’t take him this morning. A fucking processing plant, boss man. No way was I about to let him become glue or some shit. He’s not malicious or anything. He’s just misunderstood.”
The stallion kicked the back door, nearly shattering the latch. The entire trailer creaked and rattled.
Fuck it. Terrance was right. Damian wouldn’t have left the horse with that asshole, either. Whether they came from Supernatural owners or Norm, the Marisol Animal Sanctuary and Clinic—named after the literal angel who’d owned Miguel’s heart—provided a refuge for sick and abused animals. They’d never once turned an animal away, and he wasn’t about to start now.