story, frosted tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes.
“Why were you straightening your pubes?” I ask Jerif on a laugh, but he just shrugs like how the hell should I know? Guffaws crow around the table, and Jerif just sits there with his grumpy face on, eating as though Iceman’s not laying all this embarrassing shit out for the rest of us to hear.
“So, of course, she just keeps knocking on the door trying to comfort her Wee Demon, which I found out that night was a nickname Jerif got when his powers first developed and he kept burning all his pants off and nearly singeing his dick.”
Crux laughs so hard he almost tips back in his chair, which of course just makes all of us laugh even more. I’m a laugh-crying mess, my body practically cramping against the happy peals squealing out of me, while I half-coherently mumble Wee Demon over and over again.
“Maaa, stop talking about my dick! I don’t want a sandwich, go away!” Iceman mimics again, and I’m dead. Deader than dead. Get a doornail, that’s me.
“Did your sisters know you used their hair straightener for that?” I ask, a giggling mess.
Jerif just wipes his mouth and shakes his head like nothing we do is going to get him to shatter his gruff exterior and participate in the laughs being had at his expense. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered by our talking about him and his family, which for some reason, just makes this all the more amusing.
Iceman’s eyes twinkle. “He had to buy them a new one, and his oldest sister, Roul, bedazzled the one he used, calling it the cabbage patch. She gave it to him Beltane night in front of the whole family, which of course meant his mom dove right into the story of why the gift was funny for all the relatives who didn’t get it.”
“That she-demon doesn’t know when to quit,” Jerif grumbles evenly, and we all lose it again. This time, Crux does tip all the way back in his chair, letting out a squeal that causes me to almost breach the limits of my bladder. I shoot out of my chair and run as fast as I can toward the nearest bathroom or potted plant, whichever I end up finding first.
Laughs trail after me like a cape, but thank fuck the third door I check leads right into a washroom. Things get dicey for about four seconds as I try to untie my crotch laces on the leather pants, but thankfully, I make them my bitch and I’m on the toilet, releasing the flood before I can do something to embarrass myself.
I let out a relieved sigh.
“I’ve got it!” Tazreel declares excitedly as he suddenly pops into the bathroom out of nowhere.
I scream and reel back from shock, falling off the toilet and inadvertently wedging my wings and ass in the corner, between the side of the commode and the wall, ass out...of course.
“What the fuck?” I yell at my sperm donor, fear and adrenaline slamming through my veins as I try to yank my wing over me like a blanket to hide myself, but damn it’s wedged tightly behind me in a very oh fuck, I’m stuck kind of way.
“I found a way to find your mother!” he yells enthusiastically at me, as if that matters more than the fact that I’m jammed into the corner, half-naked, and trying not to finish peeing on myself.
“Get out!” I yell, nearly pulling out some of my feathers as I tug on my wing more.
Tazreel frowns down at me. “What are you doing on the floor? Get up! Aren’t you listening to what I’m telling you? I know how to find out who your mother is.”
Cursing under my breath, it’s clear that Tazreel has absolutely zero personal boundaries, and he’s too damn arrogant to leave.
“Tazreel—” I growl, but before I threaten the Abdicated asshole to get the fuck out, the door bursts open and the guys are all rushing in. “We heard you scream,” Crux explains as his wide green eyes lock on me.
“What...what’s happening in here?” he asks as all four of them stare at Taz.
“He just popped in here while I was mid-stream,” I accuse with irritation. “And now I’m stuck!”
Echo and Crux try not to smile, but they fail miserably.
“That doesn’t matter,” Taz says dismissively. “What matters is your mother.”
I show him my teeth like I’m some kind of rabid animal. “Get. Out.”