Page 134 of Demon's Bane

Rhett arches a brow at that.

“Anyway,” I continue, pushing away the memory of all thosedetailsand making myself focus on the conversation. “I’m sure they get it.”

Rhett props himself up on an elbow and studies me for a moment. “If I am to stay in this realm, I would like to get to know your friends. If that’s something you would allow.”

“Of course I want you to get to know them. Do you want to start now?”

A wide smile breaks over Rhett’s face. “Well, as long as they’re here…”

And that’s how—even though it takes a monumental effort to disentangle and get ourselves cleaned up and dressed and out of my apartment without jumping each other again—we end up back downstairs in my shop.

With the front door locked and the blinds on the windows drawn so Rhett doesn’t have to worry about hiding his true form,we sit and eat and drink. Any worries I might have had about how he would fit into this hodge podge of a coven disappear in a matter of minutes. My friends are curious, asking him about the demon realm and his life there, what it’s been like after the bargain was recast, and about the Crescent witches who’ve come to try to find their own demon mates.

He answers as many questions as he can, looking a little wide-eyed and bemused over being the center of attention, but game for whatever my friends want to dish out to him.

Though my immediate instinct is to jump in and referee—make sure Rhett’s comfortable, that my friends play nice, that everything is going smoothly—it becomes clear enough pretty damn quick that I don’t have to worry about it. Rhett can more than handle himself around a handful of prying witches.

So instead of worrying, I just sit back in my chair and enjoy.

The conversation. The tea. The exhale of it all, of having him here, as himself, taking these first few baby steps into making a life together.

It might not be an answer to all our questions and worries, but it’s… something. A start. A glimmer of a life just waiting to begin. Uncertain, but bright, full to the brim with magickal possibility.

As the evening winds down and my friends make their long, lingering goodbyes, it strikes me all at once how absurdly normal all of this is.

Introducing my boyfriend—okay,mate, but still my boyfriend for all intents and purposes—to my friends. Thinking about our life together with a lot of hope and not many definitive plans. Having the time to figure it all out.

It draws a startled, joyful laugh from my chest after the last of my friends have left and I’m dropping off a load of dishes in the kitchen.

Rhett enters carrying another stack of plates and cups, smiling at the sound of my joy.

“What has you so happy, my mate?”

All I can do is shake my head and laugh again. “This. All of this.”

He sets his dishes down in the sink and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing me deep.

“Come on,” I murmur against his lips. “Cleaning up can wait until tomorrow.”

Rhett seems to share the sentiment as he pulls me into his arms and carries me back upstairs, as we both lose ourselves in the steam and heat of an incredibly cramped, awkward, wonderful shower in my bathroom, and as we stumble naked down the hall and into our bed.

And this time, when his arms close around me, when he pulls me to him and holds me close to his chest, it feels like peace and safety, like the very beginning.

44

Rhett

The Crescent Coven hall is a stately, imposing place, and though I know little of human architecture, it seems somehow designed to intimidate.

Or at least it feels that way to me as Joan and I walk hand-in-hand up the graveled path leading to the hall’s front doors. Large, looming, radiating an energy of warning and foreboding.

It makes me grip Joan’s hand tighter and shoot her an uneasy look as we climb the front steps.

“It’s alright,” she whispers as she swings the door open. “They’ve got the whole haunted house vibe going on, but it’s mostly for show.”

We’re greeted by a sharp gasp from somewhere on our right, and both our heads swivel to see a redheaded witch gone deathly pale, frozen where she’s just entering the room through a wide, carved archway.

“Hey Marianne,” Joan says brightly. “We’re here to see Esme. Is she in?”

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