Page 112 of Prince of Demons
Home. He meant the casino where they temporarily had their base while he and his brother prepared for their trip to Milan where they were to take point on the clusterfuck that was ‘the Rome situation.’ It didn’t matter, though, that they didn’t have a comfortable house or a place that was truly theirs yet. Her home was with him. Always would be.
“Alright.” She placed her coffee mug on the table and got to her feet. “It was good to see you, Larry.”
“You don’t want to stay a little longer? Mom should be back from work in half an hour or so.” He stood, too, and followed them to the hallway, clearly reluctant to say goodbye.
“No, that’s alright. But you give her my best.” There was an ache in her chest again, but softer this time. Lighter.
“I will.” He pulled her into a hug again, tight and long enough for Kesh to start making impatient noises. When he finally released her, she took his face between her palms and gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll email. And video chat. And you’ll come to Milan this summer, and fall in love with a pretty Italian girl.”
Larry let out a chuckle and lifted his hands to cup hers where they bracketed his face. “I love you, Georgia.”
She brushed her thumbs over his cheeks and finally took a reluctant step back, releasing him. “I love you more.”
***
“For a human, he’s not… the worst.”
“You just liked that he threatened you. You big weirdo.” Georgia leant her head against the car window as the city lights passed them by. Exhaustion that had little to do with anything physical flirted at the edges.
A large hand found her thigh, anchoring her. “I like that he’s protective of you. Even if you are stronger than most other beings on this plane of existence.”
An involuntary smile quirked her lips. “Thank you. For taking me to see him. It meant… a lot.”
“If it makes you happy, it’s my job to make it happen, little one.”
“Well. I hope you don’t expect me not to take advantage of that for the rest of our lives.” She turned her head from the window to give him a tired grin. “Which reminds me… I seem to remember something about a pumpkin pie situation you were trying to resolve. Ya know, before you blew up your penthouse, and—I assume—the million squashes along with it.”
“Hmm. You remember correctly. I suppose I will have to rectify that—in between political and global chaos.” He gave her thigh a squeeze.
“Yup. Gotta learn to bake. It’s in the mate handbook. I’m certain your brother bakes for Selma, too.”
“I have absolute faith you’re correct about that,” he mumbled, just the slightest sardonic note sneaking into his deep voice.
She paused as something struck her. “Speaking of Selma… Why did it never occur to you that I might have been Pure, too? From day one, you were all ‘you are not for me, Breeder. Only the purest of Breeders can withstand the might of my dick.’ Yet apparently your dad knew the moment I shook off his restraints, back when I, ah… tried to climb him like a tree. Due to evil ring manipulation, I will hasten to add. Wouldn’t it have been prudent to, I don’t know… tickle me with magic or something, just to make sure?”
To her amusement, a flush of pink colored his cheeks. “Yes. In hindsight. Obviously, that would have been helpful. But Pure Breeders…” He glanced at her out the corner of his eye. “You are rare, Georgia.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I don’t think you do. With you, there have been three within this past century, globally. That’s unheard of. Before that, it was perhaps one per century. You being Pure… it was impossible. And testing you…” His expression turned agonized, and his fingers tightened around her thigh, as if afraid she’d vanish if he didn’t cling on. “It would have required me to entertain the possibility that you… that you could have been mine, only to then face the very real possibility—the almost guarantee that you wouldn’t be compatible. I couldn’t face that. So no. I didn’t test you.”
Her heart did something stupid and mushy in her chest. Gently, she placed her hand on top of his, warm into the marrow of her bones. “Well. I guess you’ll just have to make it up with monthly—no, weekly—pumpkin pie baking.”
Kesh rumbled a soft laugh. “I guess so.”
“Maybe you don’t buy a whole field of dick-shaped gourds every time. Your feeder kink is a little out of control,” she teased, the lightness in his voice nestling in deep behind her ribs.
“Is that a complaint in how I care for you, mate?” His tone turned to a playful rumble. “You know what else those dick-shaped gourds can be used for, if you have objections to eating them, hmm?”
A scandalized gasp escaped her throat when the implication—and the exact, huge shape of his last pumpkin-heist hit her. She turned fully to face him, mouth agape. “You wouldn’t!”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one, my love. I absolutely will.”
Kirigan
4 days later
“…destruction of Rome. Two weeks on, officials still have no explanation for the event, though pressure is mounting across intelligence and scientific communities. The UN’s special subcommittee on anomalous threats continues closed-door sessions in Geneva, while Italy’s own inquiry—led jointly by military and forensic analysts—has yet to release findings from the blast zone. Surveillance data from multiple agencies remains classified, though sources confirm coordination between ESA, NASA, and private satellite firms is ongoing.
