"If you say so."
"Do you smell something burning?"
Storm tightened his abs to help suppress a laugh so that the movement wouldn't wake Rosie. "You know that threat's starting to lose some of its punch. I think there’s more blowing smoke than burning fire."
That taunt woke Litha up just enough to give him a smile so wicked he was instantly sorry he'd thrown that gauntlet in her direction. After all, she was only going to be in a weakened state for a short time. She had a long memory and, like most hereditary witches, believed that few things are sweeter than payback. The witchy DNA combined with demon blood meant that his spouse had an internal magick bag of tricks, any one of which packed a punch potent enough to put the fear of the gods into the gods themselves. Yeah. He was going to be sorry he'd started something.
Thinking about that made him heave a big sigh. Just the distraction needed because it earned him a whiff of pure heavenly new baby scent.
He glanced at Litha who was sleeping peacefully, turned on her side facing him. He was watching her when she jerked from the sound of a whistle coming from the kitchen. Crap. Guess who's here?
Deliverance came striding into the living room, loud, chipper, irritating as hell, which come to think of it, could be behind the reason why demons ended up associated with the fiery underworld of mythology.
"Ding dong. The witch gives head."
Litha was startled awake, which couldn't feel good to a bunch of internal organs desperately trying to resize, reshape, and put themselves back in the right place. The baby was startled as well and was wiggling around, close to erupting into a full-blown fuss.
"Oops. Everybody sleeping?"
Storm shot the self-centered, inconsiderate, ass**le of a demon a look that should have killed him where he stood. "Not anymore."
"Hi, Dad," Litha said softly, sounding tired and drowsy.
The incubus smiled at her and waved then dropped to his knees next to where Storm held the baby. "Can I hold her?"
"Oh. Now you want to use inside voices?" Storm wasn't the least fond of his father-in-law, but it was impossible to hate a creature who looked at his child with an adoration so complete that it was borderline worship. "Okay. Here's the deal. I let you hold the baby for fifteen minutes and then you go get Litha's favorite pasta primavera from Corelli's."
"Done," the demon grinned. He was ever so much happier to be offered an equitable trade than he would have been to get off Scot free. Demons are like that. It's all about the deal.
Rosie had just begun to settle back down when Storm stood carefully, trying not to disturb her further. He gestured for the demon to sit where he'd been and then transferred the baby onto the shoulder of her grandfather, the incubus.
Storm shook his head. Waking Woden. What a family.
The child seemed more than content on the new shoulder and sighed audibly. Storm held his watch up and made sure Deliverance saw him point to the time. The demon gave him a wide smile that said, "Holding me to my bargain. Lovely. Maybe you're not so bad, dickwad."
Turning back to check on Litha, Storm saw that she'd drifted off again. Using the stealth he'd acquired as a Black Swan hunter, he headed toward the kitchen without waking his girls. He checked his intelliphone for texts while keeping an eye on the time. One thing he'd learned about Deliverance was that, if the demon managed to exceed the contractually agreed time – in that case, fifteen minutes, he would lose respect for his son-in-law.
Storm could care less about having the respect of an incubus except for the fact that things seem to go smoother with it than without it. So for Litha’s sake, he made adjustments for kookiness that sometimes stretched way beyond the pale.
He stepped into the kitchen archway to check on Litha when he thought he heard quiet voices coming from the living room. She still looked sleepy and hadn't moved, but her eyes were open and she was talking to her father.
Storm arrived in time to hear Deliverance say in a near whisper, "She's so perfect in every way. Even her name. I love that you named her Rosie."
"I'm glad you like it. And she is. Perfect in every way."
"She looks like you."
Litha smiled and shook her head without raising up from the pillow. "No dad. You're not looking through clear eyes. See those long fingers? And look at that tiny scowl on her brow. She's intense even when she's asleep. She has my hair and maybe my eyes, but she’s Storm all over. And I’m thrilled about that. He’s the beauty in the family." Storm had to smile at that. What guy didn’t want to know his wife thought he was beautiful?
"But look at the bloom in her cheeks and the way her nose turns up a little at the end, like a pixie."
"All babies’ noses turn up a little,” she chuckled. “That’s so they can nurse without being suffocated.”
Deliverance didn’t look convinced.
Storm cleared his throat then tapped his watch face as he came around the sofa. He reached for the baby. The incubus pouted, but handed her over after planting a soft kiss on her little cheek.
"Stop that," Storm said, trying to wipe the kiss off Rosie’s cheek with the corner of a pink baby blanket. "There's no telling where those lips have been."