Page 6 of Brimstone and Broomsticks
Chapter 3
Cassandra
Istood outside the cell and gave my client a quick look-over. His mug shot hadn’t done him justice. Even with the black eye and a cut along his jaw, the guy was panty-dropping hot. He had blood all over his torn shirt, and crumpled, mud-stained gray trousers, all of which somehow made him even more attractive. The guy had bad boy written all over him, from the wavy lock of dark brown hair that fell across his forehead to the emerald green eyes that were busy appraising me as I appraised him.
Yep. Hot guy. I doubted he was a demon, though, or he wouldn’t be bruised and cut. If a werewolf could heal those kinds of wounds within hours, I’d assume a demon could do the same. Actually, I’d assume a demon wouldn’t even get bruised or cut to begin with. But then again, I’d locked all those books up in the attic when my grandmother had died and not bothered to read them since the funeral. What I remembered about demons wasn’t enough to fill a thimble.
“Witch.”
I blinked, wondering if I’d imagined the whispered word or his look of astonishment.
“What?”
“Are you my breakfast?” He gave me a lazy grin. “If so, I hope they remove these handcuffs.”
I glanced down, surprised that they’d left the cuffs on him. Huh. Sheriff Oakes wasn’t usually so paranoid. There must have been something that made him think a jail cell alone couldn’t hold this guy, or that he might be a danger to the magical beings that ran the detention center.
Demon. He had beaten the shit out of one, actually two, werewolves. But he looked so human here in this jail cell, with the handcuffs and the bloody shirt, and that rakish, sexy smile on his oh-so-handsome face.
The man got to his feet and prowled over toward me. My blood quickened and I swallowed hard. Shit. This was so unprofessional. How long had it been since I’d gotten laid? Too long, evidently.
“Mr….” I looked down at the folder in my hand, even though I’d pretty much memorized the contents. “Mr. Doe. I’m Cassandra Perkins, the lawyer that’s been assigned to you. To…help you.”
“Can you get these cuffs off me, Cassandra?” he purred. “I’m not exactly sure what sort of help you’re going to provide to me, but let’s start with these handcuffs.”
He might be human, but I got the impression this guy was still dangerous, so just in case I touched the amulet under my shirt, and straightened to my full five foot, eight inches. Wards. Laws. And if the guy tried anything, Bronwyn’s birthday gift would ensure it would be the last thing the fucker tried.
“Put your hands though the bars so I can reach the cuffs,” I told him.
He did so and I eyed my sister’s handiwork. I might have refused to do magic, but my siblings didn’t have the same reticence. And Bronwyn was a damned skilled witch.
I took a breath and muttered a word, reaching between the bars to touch the handcuffs. They fell free into my hand, and I slid them through to my side of the cell. It was a simple spell, but I’d felt something quicken inside me the moment I’d said the words. The man on the other side of the bars must have felt it as well because he caught his breath.
He still seemed human, even without the magical handcuffs. Human, but with the magnetic sexual attraction I’d never felt for humans. I blamed it on growing up in a town where over ninety percent of the residents were “other” beings. That attraction made me wary, made me wonder if he really was human, or something else.
I cleared my throat. “As I mentioned, I’m here to represent you. You’re being charged with two accounts of second-degree assault, drunk and disorderly, and vandalism.” I flipped through the file. “Drunk and disorderly I can probably get dropped. Pete’s no stranger to that at his place. Vandalism…the owner of the truck isn’t thrilled about their windshield, but they’re also not a fan of werewolves. If you’re willing to shell out a few hundred to replace the windshield, she’ll probably let it go.”
“I don’t have a few hundred.” He was continuing to stare at me, his gaze intense. I felt hot, flushed. And I was really wishing there wasn’t a row of enchanted metal bars between us.
It was probably a good thing there was a row of enchanted metal bars between us.
“What can I offer her?” I asked, trying to concentrate on my lawyerly duties. “The two assault charges…well, that’s going to be more problematic. But I think I can play the werewolf-two-nights-from-the-full-moon card if the other charges get dropped.”
“I don’t have any money. And why are those werewolves pressing charges? It’s not like they didn’t hit me back.”
“Says here you started the fight. Do you deny that? Mr….Doe?” For fuck’s sake. That wasn’t the guy’s name. He needed to start being straight with me if I was going to defend him.
“I did start the fight. He was being an ass. The guy deserved to be taken down a notch. It was good for his soul. Humility might save him from an eternity in hell.”
Here we go. Here comes the psycho shit. “We’ve got a couple of choices here. You can plead guilty and embarrass the werewolves, thus pressuring the prosecutor into a lesser charge on a plea. Stanley, the guy with the broken arm, will do whatever Clinton tells him to do. I make the werewolves out to be a bunch of pansies, losing a fight to a newbie, I mean a human, and they’ll fold.”
He nodded, gripping the cell bars with his hands and leaning close to me. “And the other choice?”
I leaned close as well, fully cognizant that what I was about to propose would cost me my license in any town but Accident. “You post bail. You leave town. You never come back.”
He blinked, that slow, sexy grin creasing his cheeks. “Isn’t that against the law? A warrant for failure to appear? Bail bondsmen and the police hunting me down? I like how you think, Cassandra, I’m just a bit surprised that my lawyer is advising such a thing.”
I clenched my teeth. “I’m advising scenario one. Scenario two means I need to get the charges dropped before you have to appear.”
