Making Demons Purr (Flushed and Fevered Book 2) (14 page)

Francine turned around, with her eyebrow arched and her lips a pursed moue of distaste. Sera’s sister, Vivienne, was her half sibling, her mother’s new husband’s daughter from a previous relationship. Sera had a sneaking suspicion that Vivi
was
here and her mother knew that. “Mother, Samhain doesn’t make you uneasy at all. If you wanted to search my house why cook something and make coffee?”

Sera shoved her hands into the pockets of her robe and watched her mother’s movements. Francine’s features twisted into what Sera had come to describe as her mother’s hiding-something mask. No emotion broke through the tranquil covering. Her previous annoyance had disappeared.

“Vivienne is a young woman. She may not be of our breeding, but she is my responsibility since her mother abandoned her. I’m trying to make her presentable to feline society. She needs to act more grateful that I’m even showing her the least bit of interest. And I hadn’t come here to ‘search’ as you put it. Or snoop as you think. I’m here to help and make sure you eat something…well, eat something more nutritious. You’re looking a bit plumper than usual. Are you still going to that dreadful diner? Demons are not acceptable company if you want to attract a mate, dear.”

Sera took in a few deep, cleansing breaths and let them out as slowly and steadily as she could. When that didn’t calm her down, she began to count to ten. Once she was able to assemble a reply she dove in at the deep end: “One, I am not looking plumper. Two, who I hang out with is my business and any man I do attract better accept the way I look. Three, Vivi
is
grateful and she
is
acceptable to feline society. Stop trying to control her and me for that matter. She’s twenty-three years old, mother. And her mother didn’t abandon her; she divorced Howard. You know that. As for breeding, don’t even go there.” Sera managed to say all of this without stopping to take in a breath or pass out from lack of air. This was an old argument, but one of many they kept having over and over again.

Francine narrowed her eyes. “If you want your sister to fit into feline society as you did, she
needs
to start acting like it instead of hanging around those dragon brothers.”

Sera filed that tidbit of information to ask Vivi about later. “Mother, those dragons are respectable members of the community. They come from a very old, respected, and
wealthy
family. They may not be feline shifters, but they are good people.”

“Like your Bridget and Mysta. Or Lana? Or Ariel? Or Donna?” Francine turned away and began to clean up her mess. “Pixies, dear? Really? Dreadful, untrustworthy creatures. Why they got rights along with those gnomes and fairies is beyond me. And lynxes are fine so long as they don’t think they are better than us. They are still lower in the hierarchy than they believe themselves to be.”

Rage filled Sera. The black panther in her rose so fast and furious that Sera couldn’t call it back. The cat’s scream of anger shook the walls as fire flooded her body. The change came so quickly that Sera was left gasping for breath. Claws broke out of her fingers. Fur slithered over her flesh like a second skin; her head reshaped leaving her muscle, tissue, and brain throbbing with pain; her ears rang and her throat burned.

In cat form, Sera struggled out of the robe and leaped forward toward the kitchen. Francine didn’t back down. She held her ground, chin lifted like a monarch, and stared her daughter down with glowing gold eyes, so much like Sera’s own.

“Don’t you dare quick-shift on me! I am your
mother
. I know what’s best, not that fool of a father you had. If it had been up to him you would’ve married just anyone. I know what’s best for this family.
I
kept us out of debt, a roof over our heads, food on the table. I refuse to lose my place in society just because my daughter and stepdaughter have questionable associates.”

Sera roared again, ready to attack and defend her friends, her true family, her demons, and her way of life.

Footsteps pounded down the staircase but Sera paid them no heed. There was prey to take down. She salivated at the thought of taking her mother’s place, ruling the leap as
she
saw fit and releasing them from antiquated ideas that made no one happy.

“Sera, stop!” Vivi rushed into view, her brown eyes shining. Tears slipped down her cheeks. A ripple of black, white, and tan fur showed on her bare arms.

Sera pulled up short. No. She couldn’t attack true family. Pain shot through her heart. Vivi was right. What hurt the most was realizing that her sister had heard it all.

Vivi dropped down into a crouch. A small, tight, sad smile made her usually plump lips look anemic. “It’s OK. I’ll go with her.” She reached out and ran a hand over Sera’s newly shaped head and scratched behind her ears.

With reluctance, Sera’s back left leg pounded the floor and her tail thumped as bliss and calm asserted themselves inside of her. She whimpered and nuzzled Vivi with her feline head, trying to show comfort. She licked at Vivi’s still-changing arm.

Once she felt able to take control, Sera started to return to her original form. The switch back to human was slow and painful. It started in her legs. Since they were the furthest from her heart they took the longest to change. The next to come were the hands and arms. The receding fur and claws sent needles of fire and pain through the limbs. Her head returned to normal, but her headache only increased until seeing became painful and she had to shut her eyes.

Vivi’s touch soothed her. She continued to nuzzle Vivi’s hand. Being around another feline shifter could soothe and calm an injured one. Vivi began to purr. The sound calmed Sera down even more.

Francine made an impatient noise. “Just change back already. No need to go feral on me. I taught you better than that.”

Sera and Vivi turned toward Francine and hissed at the same time. Francine blanched, but didn’t hiss back or admonish them. Instead, she returned to whatever it was she was making.

The last part of Sera to change was her torso. Pain and aches pinged around her body. A quick mental inventory told her that the imprints and bruising from last night had faded away to nothing.

“You OK, sis?” Vivi stood up and held out a hand.

Sera took it and rose up, not the least bit ashamed to be naked. “Yeah.” She pulled her sister with her as she left the room and took her upstairs. There was no way Sera could speak to Francine again without going black panther on her once more.

“You don’t have to go anywhere with her. You can stay here for as long as you want.” Sera hoped Vivi would take her up on the offer. Vivi didn’t make enough with her jobs to get a place of her own. She only stayed with her stepmother to save up her money.

Vivi smiled. “No need to worry. I’ve already started to move out. Small stuff, so she won’t notice, and then the bigger stuff later. I have friends who can help me.”

“Those dragons?” Sera couldn’t have stopped the question if she had wanted to. Her black panther still had some control over her, and its curiosity was high.

Vivi smiled. “Yeah, they’re just friends.” She ducked her head, shyly.

Sera smiled, knowingly, but resisted saying anything out loud. “OK. Let me know if you need anything. And I mean
anything
, OK? Even if it’s bail money and you accidentally married that clown from
It
.”

Sera studied her sister’s features. Vivi had soft brown eyes with glints of amber and green. Her long, raven-black hair sported streaks of orange and white that showed off her calico and panther heritage. Unlike Sera, she was all curves, from her full breasts to her rounded hips. She was dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. Her makeup was smeared with smudged black eyeliner and faded lipstick. Her blush was almost gone. There were bags under her eyes and worry lines between her eyebrows. Underneath it all she still looked beautiful.

“You OK?” Sera reached out and ruffled her sister’s already-messy hair.

“Yeah, fine.” Vivi turned and went back downstairs.

Sera didn’t believe that for a second. She sighed and went into her own room to get dressed in jeans and sweater. She wrapped her hair in a towel and went back downstairs in her bare feet. Francine had left. A note sat on her dining room table that she’d be back later to pick out some clothes for the brunch. Sera knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere until her mother came to her senses.

“Release tension. Allow the goddess to work,” she muttered.

The doorbell rang again. Full morning light streamed through the windows now. With a huff, she ran downstairs to make sure it wasn’t her mother back for round two. She peeked through the peephole to find Bridget on the other side, looking just as tired as Sera felt.

“Need your help and you’re the first person I tried,” Bridget said as Sera opened the door.

Sera didn’t ask what her friend needed help with. She just went upstairs, pulled on some socks and footwear, and grabbed a jacket and her purse.

“Can we at least get some coffee and maybe something to eat?” Sera said as she stepped out the door. “I’m starving.”

Bridget smiled. “Yeah, later. First the vampire.”

Sera shut the door behind her. “Oh, just so you know my mother still doesn’t like you.”

Bridget chuckled. “Fuck her very much, too.”

Sera couldn’t help but grin. No love lost there.

Chapter Eleven

Carver woke up first and groaned. He opened his eyes and groaned again. Bright light flooded the room.

“Fuck.” He glanced toward the clock and saw that they were late. They should’ve been up hours ago. The Java Demon had to be open at the same time every day, even on holidays, Samhain or no.

Carver ran the front of the house while Thorn took care of the business end of things. He hoped the staff wouldn’t think they were too hung over to help them out. Even when they gave their staff the day off they still came in, even on holidays. The Orphans, Thorn called them.

Carver got out of bed and grabbed his robe. He nudged Thorn.

“Fuck off,” the demon grumbled as he dragged a pillow over his head.

Neither man was a morning person, but once they got started the irritation faded away.

“Later. Café needs to open. I’ll hop in the shower. Make the bed first, will ya?”

“Why me?” came the muffled question.

“Cause we’re not in your room, are we? That’s what being a guest in someone’s bedroom is about. Get up.” Carver turned away and headed for the bathroom, but not before he caught Thorn’s response.

“Asshat.”

Carver didn’t feel the least bit annoyed that Sera had left them. She had a job to do as well. But they were going to punish her for not waking them up and letting them escort her home. Even though their little slice of heaven had a low crime rate, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t dangerous to be out there alone in the early morning. Drugged up or drunk paranormals weren’t fun to deal with at any time, and Samhain was a prime time to let loose.

And Sera was a vision of pure sexy. Carver didn’t like the idea of her being out there where morons cold try to take advantage of her. She could take care of herself—that was for sure—but it still didn’t sit right with him.

They were forming bonds but they hadn’t sat down and talked about what they were going to do or what they all wanted out of this. Neither he nor Thorn wanted to let her go. The question was, would she be willing to defy her mother for them? He didn’t know. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a family feud. Her pain would tear him apart.

As he turned on the shower, he could hear the dull thuds of Thorn cleaning up. He smiled. If left to his own devices Thorn would be washing the sheets and disinfecting surfaces. He just hoped that Thorn would put on a pot of the Kona Roast they’d just gotten in. Carver didn’t feel fully awake and he craved some bittersweetness.

The door opened behind Carver.

“Done.” The door slammed shut and Carver laughed.

He dropped his robe and stepped into the stall just as the puffs of steam began to rise in the air. For the first time in a long time he felt good after a night of sex, not dirty or disappointed. He wanted to ask Thorn if he felt the same way. Streamers of passion ran down his spine and buzzed around his balls as he remembered how Sera had reacted to the belt, how wet she had become. She’d even loved the feeling of Thorn’s palm on her ass. He wondered what other pleasure she’d like. He imagined using an anal plug or clips and other toys.

Between them both men had quite a haul. They didn’t have a playroom per se, but they could always turn a spare guest room into something like that. His cock thickened as heat swirled around his groin. Seeing her spread out on his bed like that—wet and ready and begging to be fucked—had only ramped up his desire to give her what she wanted. He only hoped that if her bruises showed, her friends wouldn’t think they had abused her in any way. They may have let some of their demonic power out, but she had been consenting to every second of it.

His heart lurched at the idea that anyone would think of them as abusers. Then again, his demonic brethren had a ruthless reputation. Both he and Thorn had that in them when it came to business, but in pleasure that urge took a backseat.

Once he had dried off, Carver reached down and gave his half-erect penis a squeeze. Not now. Any erections he got belonged to Sera.

He dressed in his usual uniform of a black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers and headed downstairs. Thorn had indeed put on the coffee, thank goddess. Carver poured them both a generous cup. Thorn would take a bit longer to get ready. Showers didn’t do much to wake him up.

Carver took this brief respite to think about what they had on their schedule and decided a visit to Sera and her co-workers would be a good idea. He could bring them all lunch and make sure with his own eyes that Sera was OK after last night…if they were open. Most of the businesses would be closed for the holiday or only open half of the day. Only The Java Demon kept its usual schedule.

Thorn’s thundering footsteps on the stairs drew Carver out of his reverie. Carver could see lines of annoyance around his friend’s eyes. His lips were tightened to a thin line and his forehead was wrinkled. A blast of cold air hit Carver, raising goose bumps on his hands.