Wales?”
Ian’s face tightened in recollection. “The Alexander.”
Charles closed the space between them and embraced Ian. “Good to have you back. After so long, we feared the worst.”
Then, Charles let Ian go and turned to me. “Your turn. Tell me something only the real Veritas would know.”
“Ian said he’d make you eat your own ass for insulting me the last time we met,” I said.
A burst of laughter came from the doorway, where a brunette woman now stood. “Tell me that’s true. I’ll crack up all night imagining the look on Spade’s face.”
This must be Denise, Charles’s wife. Her accent was American, and she’d called Charles by his vampire name, Spade. Must be his preference. I’d have to remember that.
“It’s true, and I’m Veritas. Pleased to meet you,” I said.
Denise came closer, staring at me with avid curiosity. “You, too. I’ve heard so much about you, but none of them said how beautiful you were. And your hair! It’s stunning.”
It felt odd saying thank you because I had nothing to do with either. My looks and my hair color came from my father.
“How kind of you,” I settled on. She was beautiful herself, with long mahogany hair, hazel eyes, and roses-and-cream skin.
“Now that we’re done with tests and introductions, I need you to turn the UV lights off and invite my other companion inside,” Ian stated.
Instantly, Denise stiffened and Spade’s gaze frosted over.
“You’re barking mad if you think I’d let a demon into my home,” he told Ian.
Ian sighed. “He can be trusted—”
“No demon can be trusted,” Spade cut him off.
Their heads swiveled at my snort. I must be getting punch-drunk tired because I should have squelched it.
“It’s just funny,” I said in explanation. “For thousands of years, I believed the same thing. Then, I found out that I had a demon for a brother. Karma’s a bitch, right?”
Denise’s eyes widened. “You’re half demon?”
I was too focused on the wonderful new smell in the air to be insulted by her tone. “No, but I have a demon half brother. His mother was a demon; mine was human, hence the difference.”
“More importantly, I trust him,” Ian said, staring at Spade. “You know how rare those words are from me.”
Spade unleashed a tirade of profanity that would’ve sounded more offensive if not for his upper-crust accent and British colloquialisms. I mean, telling Ian to get rodgered by a daisy chain of knives was almost poetic compared to how an American would simply say, “Fuck you in every hole!”
“At least meet him,” I interrupted, and then raised my voice. “Ashael! Come out!”
My brother materialized next to me, holding his coat up like a makeshift barrier against the lights. Ian and I moved behind him, blocking the UV glare from that side, but the marble portico we were under did the rest of the shielding.
After a second, Ashael lowered his coat and gave Spade a pointed look. “Now you know your home’s weak spots when it comes to demons. You’re welcome.”
Denise shivered. Her scent soured, too, making me realize the luscious aroma I’d caught before had come from her. Now, however, she smelled mostly of fear.
“Tell them you won’t hurt anyone,” I said to my brother.
Ashael bowed to Denise. “There’s no need to be concerned. I come in peace. I’m simply here to support my sister.”
He must’ve heard me reveal our family tie earlier. From the quick look he gave me, he was pleased by it. Right then, I decided to reveal our tie to everyone it was safe to tell. Ashael needed to know that I wasn’t ashamed to call him my brother. If anything, I was ashamed of myself for my prior bigotries.
“See? That’s settled,” Ian said. “Now, can we come inside? I have something important to discuss.”
“I imagine you do, what with suddenly reappearing after months of no word,” Spade said, still eyeing my brother warily. “Veritas called you Ashael. I’m Spade.”
Ashael laughed. “Impressive nerve, using that name to a black man’s face.”
“It wasn’t a racial slur in the seventeen hundreds, when the prison-colony overseer only ever called me ‘spade’ because it was my assigned tool,” he replied in a flat tone. “Later, I kept the name because I never wanted to forget what I could overcome if I refused to let circumstances defeat me.”
A slow smile spread across Ashael’s features. “More than a pretty face and a fancy house, are you?”
“Much more,” Spade said bluntly. “But are you more than a race best known for damning people’s souls?”
Ashael laughed again, this