Page 26 of Asher

He swallows hard and looks at the six little faces watching him so intently. “Do I have to?”

“Oh, I really think you do.” There’s a slight edge to my voice now, and he nods slowly.

“Well… uh, what was it you heard, exactly, Isaac?” he stalls.

Isaac repeats what he told me, finishing with, “It’s true, right? You wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”

Micah actually begins to sweat, and I find myself enjoying this moment. “Well, it’s not exactly true,” he hedges, and there’s a round of little gasps from the kids. They’re so cute.

“You told a lie?” Isaac looks devastated.

“Not exactly.” Micah sits there with his mouth open, as though trying to find the words, then looks at me for help.

I step in, but only because I can’t stand the betrayed expression on Isaac’s little face. “Micah, tell me if I get this wrong, but were you maybe joking with Zac? And because you know Zac already knows for sure that shifters don’t poop glitter, you knew he wouldn’t think it was true. Which makes it a joke, not a lie.”

He nods frantically. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened.” He turns back to Isaac. “If I’d known you heard me, I would have explained why it was funny.” There’s a tiny wince with those words, and I guess he’s thinking the same as me: if you have to explain it, it’s not funny.

Isaac looks unsure. “So there’s no glittery poop?”

Micah and I shake our heads in unison. “Sorry, buddy,” he says. “Shifters can do some other really cool stuff, though. And hellhounds plan the best parties. Maybe Garrett will throw a party for you.”

Any sympathy I was feeling for him is gone as the kids hype themselves up over a party I now have to plan. “You may talk quietly about shifters for a minute while I say goodbye to Micah,” I announce, rising and yanking him to his feet with a steely grip on his arm.

“Uh-oh,” he mutters under his breath.

As the kids start chattering—not quietly, but then, I didn’t expect that—I drag Micah over to the door. “What iswrongwith you?” I hiss. “Haven’t you caused me enough trouble today?”

His expression turns sheepish. “Sorry? In my defense, I had no idea Isaac was listening.”

“Kids hear everything. And what even did you say? You and Zac don’t know why Asher’s with me?” I’ve gotta say, that hurts. I thought we got on well. Also, they know exactly why Asher’s with me, so being surprised that he’s also attracted to me is… ouch.

“No, it wasn’t… He only heard part of the conversation,” Micah defends. “And he took it out of context.”

“Well, he’s five, so that sounds about right.” I fold my arms and wait for him to explain it to me.

He looks like he might be about to teleport unexpectedly out of here to some random far-off destination. “It’s just… Asher is… He’s never…”

The volume rises on the kids’ chatter, and I glance over. They’re getting restless. “Go,” I tell him. “I need to get back to work.”

The relief that crosses his face is so obvious, anyone could have seen it. “Sorry about…” He waves his hand toward the kids. “And we’re really glad you’re here.” He teleports out before I can respond, and I shake my head, trying not to be mad. There’s no need to be, after all. I’ll just tell Asher about this later and let him make his cousins squirm.

This whole marrying-a-demon thing has definite perks. I knew they were overprotective and possessive but didn’t realize how much until Asher started glaring at people who talked to me for too long. From an anthropological perspective, it’s fascinating.

From a personal perspective, I’m surprised by how much I like it.

Rejoining the kids, I settle them down, and we go around the circle again, talking about the differences between demons and shifters. I’m surprised by some of the questions they ask, but in the context of them never having seen or known about other species until recently, it does make sense.

“What’s your puppy called?” Susannah asks earnestly.

I smile at her. “Garrett. We’re the same person, just with two different forms. This is my biped form.” I gesture to my humanoid body. “It’s called biped because in another language,bimeans two andpedmeans feet. I have two feet in this form, but in my canid form, I have four.”

“Ohhhhh,” they chorus, and predictably, a few of them look down at their own feet.

“Does that mean we’re biped too?” Isaac asks, and I nod.

“Yep. All of us in the community, and humans too, are bipeds. That just means we have two feet that we walk around on. But when shifters change into our other forms—”

“You’re not bipeds anymore!” Susannah shouts, the excitement of understanding clear in her voice. “What’s it called when you have four legs?”

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