Freshly made noodles boil in the stockpot as I pipe chocolate cream into the cooled cannoli shells I brought home from the bakery.
Tally took the closing shift tonight to allow me to come home early and surprise my ice demon with an Italian dinner that mirrors our first date.
I set the last of the filled cannoli on the plate and glance around at the rest of the food I prepared. A giant sausage meatball made with plenty of fennel, freshly baked bread filled with garlic butter, a leafy green salad with a tangy vinaigrette, and a red sauce that bubbles on the stovetop, releasing garlic and oregano into the air.
My wings rustle against my spine in satisfaction. While I doubt I replicated the meal we ate at Mancini’s on our first date, I think he’ll notice the effort I made. Complete with the dessert I promised him; cannoli with plenty of cream.
After everything that happened with the Dreamer and the Hunters, my priorities have shifted a little. I still love my bakery, and I’m proud of what I created there, but I also want to set aside time to spend with my delicious lovers. I want to build whatever this is that’s between us.
Love… I never expected to find love. It’s not a very demon emotion to covet. At least, not from what I’ve seen from other demons. But Emil, Tobias, and Kellen are mine, not only through contract but through a bond that links our hearts together.
Even if they won’t all admit it.
The timer goes off, and I grab the stockpot from the stove and walk it to the sink to pour the noodles into the waiting cullender. Steam fills the air and fine tendrils of blue-tipped white hair float around my face, dancing in the changing air currents.
The click of nails sounds behind me, followed by a chuff of greeting.
I glance over my shoulder. “Evening, Tac. You slept late.”
Usually, the giant cat monster gallops down the stairs as soon as someone arrives home, but he’s been sleeping more lately. I worry he’s getting old, not that I know what old means for demon cats, but Emil assures me he’s fine.
As if he senses my concern, Tac yawns to display his dagger long fangs and lolling pink tongue.
I set the stockpot aside and bounce the strainer. “Do you want dinner now? Or do you want to wait until Emil and Tobias come home?”
He swivels one tufted ear back toward the front of the house, then plods around the kitchen island, away from the side with the fridge. Looks like he plans to nap under the kitchen table until the others arrive home.
I take the noodles back to the stove and pour the sauce over them, then go to the fridge while they finish cooking. The parmesan I bought on the way home sits on the middle shelf, a cream-colored wedge of deliciousness that will perfectly finish the pasta.
Grabbing it, I turn back to the stove only to find Tac’s wedge-shaped head on the counter, nose far too close to the giant meatball.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, rising onto my toes and puffing my chest out to make myself bigger.
In answer, he flares his wings wide, nearly filling the kitchen.
“Don’t you take that tone with me!” I zip across the kitchen and pull the meatball out of reach. It rolls on the plate, and I fumble to keep it from hitting the floor. Once I settle it on the opposite side of the stovetop, I point to the large kitchen table. “Go wait for dinner!”
His ears flatten atop of his fluffy head, and he snorts, misting me with kitty juice.
My arm swings to point at the archway that leads back to the living room. “That’s it! Out of the kitchen!”
Instead, he butts his head against the door to the basement and thumps his tufted tail heavily against the tiled floor.
With a huff of my own, I stomp over and open it for him. It’s not what I meant, but it’s still out of the kitchen, and maybe if Tac wrecks a few of the furniture pieces down there, it will force Emil to get rid of some of his hoard.
The ice demon could furnish two more houses with what he has squirreled away down there, and I’m tired of clearing a path every time I need to do laundry. I’m the only one who actually does laundry in the house. Everyone else pays to have a service do theirs. There’s absolutely