Page 15

Ace

A ce clutched a borrowed yoga mat in his short claws. Back at the house, this had seemed like a brilliant idea. Now he was glancing left and right to make sure he was rolling out a yoga mat correctly.

On his left, Duke lifted a large oblong bean bag. He shot Ace a look from the corner of his eye.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he hissed.

“I have no idea.”

“It’s a bolster,” Nico yawned. Still blinking himself awake, the red demon seemed to be the only one of them with any idea of what was happening. “It’s for supporting certain poses.”

Tagging along with Miri was rapidly losing its appeal as they stood in the stuffy yoga studio. Hopefully, the sweet human would find their ignorance endearing. The demon wasn’t sure how much further charm was going to carry him, especially since she was shooting murderous looks in their direction.

Inviting themselves to her yoga class might have seemed clingy and overbearing, but the demons didn’t have a choice.

If Miri had left the house alone, she was going to panic.

The next time they would have seen her, she would have been tossing all their stuff on the lawn and telling them to clear out of her house.

Ace had seen it on her face as they stood in her kitchen.

The reality of dating not one but four demons had hit her uncaffeinated brain all at once.

Humans were like frogs—especially the ones who hadn’t had their coffee yet—they had to be eased into the water or they’d jump right out of the pot. And he was not letting their cute, curly-headed frog out of his sight until she was as thoroughly enraptured with them as they were with her.

Even if that meant doing yoga.

Ace scrubbed a hand over his short horns and glanced at his curvy, little human. She was tucked into a huddle with her two friends. The trio spoke quietly, shooting the demons the occasional side-eye. The blonde twiggy one slid his girl a folded-up piece of paper.

He had no idea what that was about, but his eyes lingered on Miri as she tucked the paper into a pocket of her leggings.

Her oh-so-tight leggings. Gaze traveling up and down her body, Ace bit his lip.

When she had peeled off her hoodie to reveal a crop top and a slice of freckled skin peeking over the band of her leggings, his mouth had started to water and hadn’t stopped since.

The demon knew exactly what Miri looked like underneath her workout gear—hell, his tongue had touched most of the places hidden by stretchy spandex. Watching her twist and stretch in front of him was going to be exquisite torture.

“Dude, this was such a bad idea,” a nervous hiss dragged him from his quiet perusal.

Ace rolled his eyes at his cousin. For a demon that spent his working hours getting punched in the face, he was being a surprising sissy about some glorified stretching.

“It’s yoga, not rocket science.” He shoved Kaz back a step. “Stop being a baby.”

“Uh huh. Just wait.” Golden eyes flicked toward the door, searching for an escape route. “You’re going to be wishing you had run in ten minutes or less.”

As if. A rabid yeti couldn’t drag him out of there with Miri’s ass looking that scrumptious in leggings. If yetis could even contract rabies… huh… he might want to look that up later.

His eyes returned to Miri, unable to escape the magnetic pull of her smile. She flicked a red curl out of her face. What Ace wouldn’t give to tangle his claws in those red coils. He could spend all day tugging her copper curls and watching them bounce back into place.

Ace had dated plenty of women—and even a couple men— but there was something about Miri that eased his wandering soul and made him want to sit still.

She was like a warm hug and a plate of chocolate chip cookies at the end of a long day.

Soft and sweet… until she wasn’t. When Miri turned those bright, naughty eyes in his direction, the demon would swear his heart skipped a beat.

He sighed. The trouble they could get up to…

A short, dark-haired woman hurried through the door, juggling her yoga mat and blocking his view of his new favorite person.

“Marta! We thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” The newcomer tossed her mat on the floor and kicked it flat. “My ex-husband showed up on my porch again.”

“Hungover or desperate?” Miri quirked a red brow.

“Both.” Marta sighed. “It was the usual song and dance. Begging me to take his cheating ass back, followed by threats to leave me penniless in the divorce, and then capped off by calling me a fat slut and backing his truck over my mailbox.”

“I can’t even fathom why you would be divorcing such a charming creature,” Miri’s blond friend deadpanned. What the hell was her name again? Amber? Ally?

“Isn’t that like the second mailbox he’s destroyed?”

Miri was practically growling as she wrapped an arm around Marta. Ace eyed the curled arm. She was protective of her friends. His demon half liked that, and his mischievous human side liked it even more.

“Fourth,” her friend mumbled. “I’m not really sure what he has against me getting mail in a timely manner, but my neighbors are starting to get pissed.”

“I’ve got a guy who can fix that,” Ace yawned. Prowling closer, he slipped into the conversation and pressed against Miri’s side. “If you want it fixed, that is.”

“Fixed how?” Marta asks warily. “I don’t want you to break his kneecaps or anything… I think.”

The demon stared at her. What? Why would he break some random human’s kneecaps?

“I meant I know a guy who dabbles in metal work,” Ace said slowly. What the hell did she think he meant? “He can sink a pole into some cement and put your mailbox on it. Next time the jackass tries to run it over, it’ll tear up his car.”

Miri grinned up at him. “Forget about his kneecaps, do that instead.”

Break his kneecaps? Since when was he supposed to be in some kind of demon mafia? Humans were so weird. If Miri wasn’t currently looking at him like he had hung the moon just for her, he would be tempted to back away from the knot of feral-eyed women.

Too bad he was a sucker for redheads.

Slipping his phone from his pocket, Ace shot off a text to his friend. Hopefully, Jake had some time between mid-terms. The big ol nerd was going for his third doctorate. Something unpronounceable in the field of plant biology this time.

“This is a screen free studio.” A blond soccer mom with a terrible haircut glowered at him.

“And it will be again in about five seconds,” Ace grumbled.

He spitefully sent another text and crossed his fingers that it would misalign her precious chakras. The phone dinged. He glanced at the reply and shoved his phone back into his sweatpants pocket.

“Jake will be by sometime next week or two. So, if you see a giant hairy guy poking at your mailbox, don’t panic and call the police. He hates that.”

Marta’s eyes went wide. She opened her mouth, probably to ask a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, but Ace was already basking in Miri’s beaming smile. His eyes flicked down to her plump lips. Stealing a thank you kiss wouldn’t be completely out of order, right?

His lips had barely brushed hers when the sound of a gong filled the small studio. Head whipping up, Ace stared bewildered as the waiting women started hurrying to their yoga mats.

Miri nudged him back a step and untangled herself from his arms. Shaking out her limbs, she straddled her yoga mat.

“Go on.” She shooed him toward his own mat. “Class is starting.”

Right. Yoga. The whole reason he was standing in a hot room that stank of patchouli and sandalwood.

Ace made a mental note to let the yoga instructor know that her heavy-handed use of essential oils was not exactly monster-friendly and moved to stand on his yoga mat. He ignored Kaz’s final longing glance at the door and settled in.

It was yoga. How bad could it be?

Bad. It was really, really bad.

Ace wasn’t sure exactly how much torture the government could legally subject a person to before they broke, but he would bet all thirty-eight dollars in his checking account that the sadist running their yoga class was straddling the line.

He hadn’t been in this much pain since he got bitten by that snake when he was doing jungle tours in Brazil.

Arms shaking, the demon managed to throw a quick look at his cousin.

If he thought he was suffering, he was pretty sure Kaz was on his deathbed.

Purple hair plastered to his head, he was sweating buckets.

Not even Duke was sweating that much and the behemoth had his eight-foot wings tucked into sweatshirt.

The instructor had insisted he put it back on after Nico had taken a wing to the face mid-downward dog. Lucky bastard. Ace would’ve used it as an excuse to sprint from the room and find an ice pack.

“Dude, are you okay?” he managed to gasp at Kaz.

“I’m in hell.”

“I thought you were some hot shot boxing coach?” Ace hissed. “This should be easy for you.”

“That’s cardio. This is torture. Call the police,” Kaz gasped, his golden face burning dark red. “I think I’m dying.”

“Stop being dramatic.” That was his job, damn it.

“Avenge me, cousin.”

“How? I can’t exactly murder a yoga pose, moron.”

“Both of you shut up.” Nico rolled his eyes and straightened out of a backbend. “I’m trying to find my namaste or whatever.”

Bendy prick. Ace was definitely going to dump all of his left socks out the window the next chance he got.

He looked past the red demon folding himself into a pretzel and zeroed in on Miri. The cursed reason they were being put through this kind of torment. She was barely breaking a sweat.

Twisting her legs, Miri flowed through a complicated transition and found herself balanced on her forearms. Her legs folded gracefully into perfect arches in the air.

When had they switched into expert mode? The curvy human was the only one besides the teacher to pull off that move. Everyone else was keeping one foot on the ground… or in Ace’s case, half his damn body.

How the fuck did Miri make this look so effortless? His arms were trembling and both his feet were firmly on the ground.

“I hate this so much,” he muttered under his breath. He was a demon, but this was downright unnatural.

Bobbling unsteadily, Ace extended his tail and braced it on the floor. Great, now he was using his tail as a kickstand. Could this get any worse?

It wasn’t worth it. No woman could possibly be worth this. Miri was not...

The thought trailed away as he had a view of her ass as she turned herself upright and flowed into downward dog… definitely worth it. She was definitely worth the pain. Ace would buy her her own yoga studio if it meant he got to look at that view every day.

The gong sounded again—a noise he had decided was an omen of imminent agony.

“And now we will cool down our flow and transition into shavasanna,” the yoga instructor said calmly.

Into what now?

“Did she say shawarma?” Duke murmured, his big purple head swinging back and forth as he studied the room.

“Shavasanna.” Miri whispered back. “Corpse pose.”

Corpse? The fuck kind of yoga is this? One last sun salutation and then everyone was… lying down on the floor?

Ace nearly cried in relief. Oh, thank the gods. It was nap time.

Flopping onto his back like a dying fish, he let the air saw in and out of his lungs. His muscles tingled painfully as he finally relaxed. Now this was a yoga pose he could get behind.

He turned his head to see the other demons sprawled in various levels of disarray. At least he wasn’t the only one.

The unholy gong sounded again.

“And that’s the end of our yoga practice. Namaste.”

Echoes of namaste filled the room. As if a wave of energy poured over them, all the soccer moms jumped to their feet and started rolling up their yoga mats.

How? Just fucking how? They were no more winded than if they’d taken a walk in the park.

The group started chattering about brunch and Ace was left flabbergasted.

Brunch? The only thing he was looking forward to was his own funeral.

A face leaned over him, blocking the soft lights above him. Miri grinned, curls escaping the fluffy bun wobbling on her head. Her freckled nose crinkled as she beamed at his sweaty face.

“So… should we get you all some punch cards?”

Ace’s groan joined a loud chorus from the guys around him. And they said demons were monsters?