Page 41 of Hex
“Satapti.” Hack grips my head between his palms and pulls away from his chest to stare me in the eyes. “You’re richer than every anthros on this planet. You never need a job to earn money again. I only run my fight clubs because when you live for over two-thousand years, it’s nice to have a hobby.” He chuckles and shrugs, but my brows furrow and I free myself from his hold on my face.
“How?” I want to elaborate, but there are so many questions; beginning with that one word that I want to ask, but I can’t quite bring myself to form the proper sentences.
Busying myself, I walk into the kitchen area and begin the process of making myself a coffee. I know I could try and use magic to help, and I probably should because goddess knows I need the practice, but I want to use my hands.
“You made some good investments in your time. Plus, when I was able, I liquidated your assets upon your deaths and kept everything in separate accounts for you. There’s an old castle in Scotland, in the UK, that you own. And a winery in France too. I have a mixture of lackeys and anthros running the place, but you have a steady income.” He says it all so matter of factly, like he’s not practically handing me the keys to the kingdom.
“So I’m rich? Stupidly stinkin’ rich?” The coffee is now brewing and it smells divine, but it’s not a deterrent from this conversation. As usual these days, my emotions are running haywire and I’m a mixture of all the things.
Gobsmacked being one of them.
I think I’m more surprised over my newfound wealth than I was to find out about the supernatural world. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s fucking close!
“You are, Satapti.” Hack leans back against the wall beside my bedroom door, watching me with amusement dancing in his green eyes.
“Okay.” I nod, taking it all in my stride as I finish fixing my coffee.
Still nodding, like one of those bobbleheads, I take a sip, burn my mouth, and pretend that didn’t just happen before heading toward my bedroom. “Hmm.” The nodding doesn’t seem to want to stop, and now I’m pursing my lips, too. “Okay.”
I spot my cellphone on the bedside table, as if it’s been waiting for me to come and claim it, and yeah, I could’ve taken Pierce up on his offer of a spelled cell-phone, and I will, but this one has all my memories stored. All the pictures of me and Danika that I’ve taken.
“Am I rich enough to buy my own cellphone company?” I don’t want to, but the thought just occurred to me.
Hack chuckles. “Yes. You could buy them all, if you wanted, and still be richer than every anthros on the planet.”
Holy fuckballs almighty.
“Richer than like…Scrooge McDuck?” My references for rich people are minimal, but old cartoons were a favorite of Danika’s, so of courseDuckTalescomes to mind.
More chuckling. “Yes.”
“Well okay then. This is a new feeling. It’s like relief and guilt, but also freedom. Does that make sense?” I pick up my cellphone and look around for my charger because it’s not turning on, so it’s dead. Not surprising.
“It does.” Being super helpful, he enters the bedroom and starts helping me search. It’s obvious what I’m looking for, and he knows me almost better than he knows himself.
The next few seconds happen in slow motion. I see him heading toward the small cupboard on the other side of the bed, then he bends down to open it and a wave of dildos comes crashing out. Closing my eyes and taking a deep, humiliated breath, I head around to his side of the bed and look up at him through my lashes with what I’m hoping is a cute smile.
“That’s my dildo cupboard. The charger won’t be in there.” I shrug, giving all the explanation I think he needs.
“Do you meanthischarger won’t be in there?” He holds up the very thing I’ve been looking for, and it came from…yep…the dildo cupboard.
“Smartass.” I poke my tongue out and take the offering, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he pulls me into him and leans his head down, almost level with mine.
“Next time you poke that pink little tongue out, I’m going to bite it.”
I’m nothing if I’m not pushing my boundaries, so I grin, lifting myself up onto my tiptoes, and lick his lips.
His low growl is drowned out by a loud crash coming from the living room and my heart sinks.
Not again.
“Stay here.” Hack’s voice is firm and he doesn’t wait to see that I’m clearly not following his instruction as he rushes from the room.
I grab the first thing I can find to use as a weapon. Yes, it’s one of my giant dildos.
Poking my head out of the door, my eyes widen in shock because Agatha and Bluebell are back, and this time they have a tiny version of themselves wrapped up in a bundle between them. Bluebell is limping, her skirt torn to pieces, revealing a knee-length tail with a spiked ball on the end, and Agatha has a large slash across her face, and one of her spiked horns looks like it has been hacked off, leaving a bloody mess in its place.
“What the fuck happened?” Hack’s tone is demanding, yet there’s a softness to it.
