Page 38 of Wooing the Wiccan
“That will make Gideon happier. Okay, I have the image. Gideon, is this?—”
A low murmur in the background.
“Perfect. Raðulfr, ask him if he wants to see a teleport, and we can wait for you to come outside.”
I lower the phone and look at Jared. “Would you like to see them teleport here? We can watch them arrive.”
He bites his lip. “Yeah. Okay, sure.” There’s a note in his voice that makes me think he’s still hoping this is all a tall tale.
“Give us a minute,” I tell Sam, standing and motioning for Jared to lead the way to the front door.
As soon as we’re standing on his doorstep, I say, “Okay.” The call drops out, and a strangled gasp escapes Jared as Gideon and Sam appear in his tiny front garden.
For a second, I fear he’s going to bolt inside and lock the door. It wouldn’t keep us out—shifters can walk through any lock, and we elves have some tricks in that regard as well—but forcing our way into his home isn’t going to help the situation.
And then the lucifer comes toward us, a gentle smile on his face, and says, “Hi, I’m Sam. I’m so glad to meet you.”
Jared throws himself into Sam’s arms, and for the first time since I walked into the stadium and realized the situation, I finally feel like everything is under control.
“I’m so sorry,”Jared says for the third time as he ushers Sam and Gideon toward the couch. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Please don’t worry about it,” Sam assures him. “It’s completely normal. You’re stressed right now, and my role as the lucifer makes me the ultimate safe space for you.”
The sound that comes from Jared is half laugh, half incredulous huff. “This is surreal. I can actually sense that—that you’re safe. All my instincts are humming about it. No offense, but in any other situation, if a man with horns who justteleportedwas in my living room, I’d be freaking out, but right now I feel like I could take a nap.”
Sam grins, elbowing Gideon. “Did you hear that, babe? I cancel out your scary factor.”
The demon’s resting bitch face morphs to a genuine glower, and only the knowledge that Sam would never let him hurt an innocent human stops me from crafting a shield spell.
Jared, on the other hand, has no such certainty, and his eyes momentarily widen before the calming effect of being in the lucifer’s company kicks back in. Envy stabs at me. I’m used to being the one who gives others that sense of security, and I hate that I can’t do it for him.
“Jared was asking if humans have a species leader,” I prompt, and Jared turns hopeful eyes on Sam.
Who shakes his head. “Yes, but there’s not much I’m permitted to say on the subject, I’m afraid. Icantell you that they don’t know about the community. I’m not sure why the magic still selects human species leaders—perhaps to maintain cosmic balance—but I think I might be the only person who knows about them, because of my role as lucifer. Has Raðulfr told you why we live in hiding and why the secret must be kept?”
Glancing uncertainly at me, Jared says, “Because humans tried to kill everyone? I-I still can’t process how long it’s been a secret, though, and how nobody found out.”
“Wild, huh?” Sam agrees. “Part of it is the magic acting to protect us, but mostly humans just don’t want to know. We’ve seen some incredibly convoluted reasoning get used to explain things away, and whenever somebodydoesseem to believe, they’re written off as crackpots.”
“Are they? What I mean is, do they know the actual truth?”
Sam shrugs. “Sometimes, yes, but not all of it. They see something—like a demon’s horns, or a vampire’s fangs, or a shifter—and from there, they go down a path of theories that have never, to my knowledge, included the full truth. That’s where all the myths and folklore come from: Someone seeing something they don’t understand and turning it into something else.”
Jared nods slowly. “That makes sense. So… you really live in secret? That must be so hard.”
“It was a lot harder for the generations right after the species wars,” Sam says. “Their whole world changed. Nowadays it’s a lot easier, and we all just live our lives. We’re not hiding in caves—we just don’t do some things in public.” Leaning forward, he meets Jared’s gaze squarely. “I need to ask you, can you keep this secret? If you can, you’ll be welcomed into our community as one of us. We have human members—stepfamily, friends, spouses—and they bring so much joy to our lives.”
The seconds tick by, and Jared doesn’t answer, just breathes evenly, lost in thought. My tension rises again. What if he asks if there’s an alternative?
“I can keep this secret,” he says finally. “It… it would be bad if people found out. Some of them are hateful to other humans—learning that there are different species would only make their behavior worse.” Sadness shadows him, and I wish I could be sure of my welcome if I were to go to him now.
“As a group, humans tend to be disappointing.” Gideon speaks for the first time since arriving, the deep rumble of his voice making Jared jump. “But there are individuals your species can be proud of.”
It’s possibly the nicest thing I’ve heard him say to someone who isn’t Sam in all the time I’ve known him, and from Sam’s wide-eyed surprise, it’s not something that happens often.
“Um… thank you.” Jared blinks at him. “I’m Jared, by the way. I didn’t… we didn’t get introduced.”
“Gideon Bailey.” That seems to be all Gideon’s going to say, and an awkward silence falls.
