He huffed out a low laugh as if he could read my mind. I hurriedly collected the remaining brushes, lifting Ellie’s abandoned canvas from where it lay on the floor. I swiped a strand of my hair off my sweaty forehead. Brown smeared across my glasses, blocking my view.

I took them off, wiping them on the hem of my T-shirt, as the girls ooh-ed and ah-ed and giggled over the once more docile beasties.

“Jemma, they’re floating on their backs!” Faith squealed. “They look like little otters!”

“It’s adorable!” Harper and Ellie chorused.

“Oh, for fu—” I cut myself off, chancing a glance up at Satan Junior.

He lifted one hand, twitching a single finger from side to side in a tutting gesture. I fumed silently, gathering up the ends of the drop sheet and folding it inwards, trapping all the paint sludge that hadn’t ended up on me.

Meanwhile, the girls were completely oblivious to my distress. Bath time over, they lured Satan Junior’s little terrors over to the lounge next to the small library with more of the tiny pieces of beef jerky that he’d handed them earlier.

Satan Junior’s pernicious pets nuzzled at the girls with exaggerated affection.

“Didn’t you say that the hospital said no to Luci visiting?” Ellie asked, then giggled as the one with the white dot near its nose nibbled on her earlobe.

“Yes, you said that ferrets aren’t an approved animal for visits,” Faith added.

“They’re not,” I replied, my tone resigned. “Sa-Simeon smuggled them in without permission.”

“I’m sooo glad you started dating this one, Jemma!” Faith cooed, batting her eyes at Satan Junior, who smiled indulgently back at her. “This has been the best art session EVER!”

“Please, come again next week, Simeon?” Harper asked shyly, hiding her blush in the black ferret fur.

I turned away then, swallowing back my emotions. I’d definitely overstated my acting abilities in the face of his deviousness … in the face of the destruction the two Hell Beasts had managed to wreak in the space of five short minutes.

And in the face of knowing, deep down, that no matter what I did to make their art time with me enjoyable, I would always follow the rules that kept them safe and healthy. And all it had taken was him coming in, flouting rules that were in place for a very good reason, and I’d become second string to him and his Hell Hounds-in-disguise.

I’d never meet their expectations now that he’d blown them out of all proportion.

I could practically hear Joe’s derision. ‘Another frivolous, futile foray, one that you can’t even earn an income from. Only you could manage to fail at volunteer work, Jemma!’