Page 99 of The Demon's Delight
“Thank you.”
“I’m Rylan,” the dark-haired brother said, a soft tilt to his mouth as he reached out to take my hand. He gave me a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I said, nerves kicking in as the lone newcomer to this enthusiastic group. “Thank you for having me.”
“I’m Greta,” said the woman behind the worktable, raising her gloved hand in a wave after setting down a pair of tongs and a flask with swirling shimmery silver liquid inside.
“Hello.”
The gargoyle women traded greetings with everyone, and as I got my pack settled behind the nearest chair, a new woman with the energy of a hurricane flew into the room, arms full, what appeared to be an assistant right behind her.
“Welcome!” She was cheerful as she pumped my arm up and down once she’d set down her baskets. “I’m Grace. I run the kitchen here?—”
“And everything else,” Rylan grinned.
“If you need anything, you let me know.”
“Thank you, Grace.” Rylan smiled at her, and I could tell the appreciation between them was genuine.
“If you’re hungry, you’re in for a treat,” Lovette said. “Grace is a gifted cook.”
“I’ve been very fortunate where food is concerned lately,” I said, marveling at the selection as the contents of the baskets were set on the long coffee table between the sofa and the lounge chairs.
Rylan scanned the table. He picked up a plate and selected several things, his expression very pleased as he handed it off to Calla, then went back for his own.
“Can you join us, Dragonfly? Or should I bring you something over there?” Vassago asked.
“I’m coming,” Greta said, quickly stripping off her gloves and heavy apron. She brought over several small vials of the silver liquid, leaving them next to her cup.
My chest gave a hot thump, the bond reminding me it was still quite displeased with the distance between Seir and I.
“Please, help yourself, Hailon. We don’t stand on much formality around here, particularly with family,” Rylan said, gesturing widely with one hand. I met his eyes, golden like Seir’s, and felt the sincerity. He’d meant to say that, to include me. I wondered how odd it really was for people you just met to embrace you as one of their own. “Grace will be terribly disappointed if you don’t eat at least three times as much as you really care to. I’m afraid she’s gotten a little too used to preparing enough to feed Magnus, not to mention our students.” He must have seen something in my face, as he hastily added, “Classes are not in session just now. It’s just us here, for the time being.”
Imogen and Lovette had both enthusiastically joined in eating, so I followed their example.
“It is very nice to see you in person, I must say,” Vassago said. “That little mirror doesn’t do you justice.”
“Thank you.” My pulse sped up at the mention of the mirror. “Actually, we owe you an apology.”
“You do?” He paused, food halfway to his mouth. “Whatever for?”
“The mirror. I’m afraid it’s cracked.”
He barked a low chuckle. “I knew it. However did he manage it this time?”
“He had it in his pocket. I’m not sure what happened.”
Vassago frowned, and Rylan snorted in amusement. “Really?”
“Truly, it was either in his pocket, safely wrapped in one of our packs, or with me. It was fine when he taught me the words, and we spoke to you, obviously. The next time he got it out, it was cracked halfway through.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to make you both another. He’s got the worst luck with them, I swear it.”
“We also agreed it would be wise to give you these.” I pulled the strongbox out of my pack and opened it, retrieving the little vials and notebooks Dr. Lang had left behind.
Rylan’s eyes met mine for a moment as he reviewed the labels, then flipped through the notes. Vassago did the same, both of their wives just as interested.
“I’ll keep them somewhere safe,” he said, the edge of a growl in his tone. “I’m very sorry for what you went through, Hailon.”
