The Devil's Brew by Rhys Ford

Author:Rhys Ford [Ford, Rhys]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press LLC

Juniper wine and long shots of gin

That’s where this damned hell all begins

Blood on a mirror, taint of a sin

He’ll break my heart

And get under my skin

Can’t help myself.

Butterfly on a pin.

Lord help stop this damned madness

’Cause he’s done pulled me in.

—“Crazed and Moonshined”

“THIS WAS a damned stupid idea.”

Dude looked up from the Tyrannosaurus rex bone Kane gave him earlier. The dog had no comment. Even more insulting, the terrier cocked his head for a brief second, regarded Miki with curious brown eyes, then fell back to chewing on his prize.

“Thanks. I fucking really appreciate how much you give a shit about my nervous breakdown.” Miki blew air out from between his pressed lips. Another glance at the oblivious dog only confirmed Miki’s suspicions. Not only did the terrier not give a fuck, he also scooched his butt around so he didn’t have to watch Miki’s futile attempts at Valentine’s Day.

“Great.” He turned around to look at his original present. The one he’d bought for Kane way before he’d let Damie talk him into the second stupid thing he’d purchased. “I so suck at this.”

He’d searched for a couple of weeks before he found someone who could hook him up, and even then his source had been reluctant to cough up what Miki’d asked for. A stealth delivery during Kane’s working hours deposited a huge crate into his garage studio.

One he’d thankfully paid extra to leave on a trolley because the crate was too fucking heavy for him to move around by himself. Even pushing it out of the studio and into the main part of the warehouse was a bitch and a half. His knuckles were hurting and scraped raw from being slammed against a doorjamb when the crate went left when it should have gone right, and for some stupid reason, he’d thought a crowbar would help him open the fucking thing.

All he’d done was jab himself in the balls with its blunt end just as he noticed the handle-and-tie mechanism on one side.

Once he’d gotten the sides off—he was going to leave the damned thing on its trolley—Miki stood and stared at the tree, wondering what the hell had crawled into his brain and told him what he’d dug up was a good idea.

“Why the fuck did I buy him a chunk of wood?” It was a very large chunk of wood. Almost as tall as Miki and certainly wider, it sat on its trolley, a sullen sentinel to Miki’s stupidity. Then he remembered the car and Damie’s delight at seeing it in front of the warehouse. “That’s what it needs. A bow. Or something.”

The red monstrosity he’d shoved into the Cherokee was way too damned big, but he remembered the boxes of Christmas stuff Kane dragged in during the holidays. There were things in there—sparkly things—and they could definitely do something to snazzy up the solid mass of bark and wood taking up residence in the front room.

He found several plastic bags and spools of ribbon.

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