“We are honored to take the crown.” Barion gave his own bow, which had the bean bag moaning under his weight. So much for ‘predatory grace’. Well, if push came to shove, grace didn’t keep you alive, while brute force did, and demons were the definition of power. What have we been talking about?
“When are we going to discuss naked Henry Cavill in the tub? I have to admit that watching the show was the most pleasant part of the homework for this session.” Mavis winked while Maribel playfully swatted her arm.
“Shh, not in front of the children.”
Troy rolled his eyes. “Please, if there was a chance to get a piece of Henry, Declan and I would even put up with having you two in that tub with us.”
“I can’t hear a thing…la, la, la!” Emilia was covering her ears with her hands.
“What about you, Sammy? Would you accept those four in the tub for the sake of Henry?” Barion couldn’t keep a lid on his mischief, and seeing Dre bristling was so much fun. Sammy cocked his head, clear confusion written in his features.
“Why would I want a bathtub with Henry and the others when I can have a bed with only Dre in it?”
Dre stuck his tongue out at Barion before he proceeded with giving Sammy’s tonsils some extra care.
So much for yanking Dre’s chain.
“You two are disgusting.” Barion mock shuddered.
“Ah, young love. So sweet.” Mavis sighed, shamelessly ogling Sammy and Dre.
“And we’re off-topic again.” Amber snatched the last cookie, which had Barion diving for the second plate with the miniature apple pies. He would be damned if he didn’t get at least one of them. It was an important lesson, though, not to get too caught up in the discussion while there was still food available. Paranormals were rabid eaters—and damn sneaky, too.
The banter continued for some time, with occasional discussions about The Witcher thrown in, and when it was time to say goodnight, Barion insisted on escorting Jon down to his basement. After the lively discussion, he felt a strange connection to the zombie, probably born of their mutual love of gaming. Barion was eager to make new friends, and Jon seemed like a good prospect. The zombie didn’t protest when Barion followed him down into the well-lit cellar that had hardwood floors and walls that were painted a warm peach color. As cellars went, this one had managed to disguise itself as a beautiful apartment. Jon’s living room was every gamer’s dream. Barion stopped short on the threshold, his jaw almost hitting the floor.
“Wow. Just wow.”
“You like it?” Jon seemed almost shy.
“What’s not to like? You have, what? Four sixty-five-inch monitors, the most impressive surround system I’ve seen in a long time and, trust me, I know my way around them, an ergonomic chair with several lounge options, all the important gaming consoles and the perfect light. I’m tempted to move in with you.”
Barion was sure Jon would have blushed if that were possible for zombies. “Thank you. I did my best with the interior.”
“And you were a thousand percent successful.” Barion looked around the room with the tasteful dragon mural on one wall—he would bring Dre his favorite ice cream daily for the next hundred years if the flames spilling from the dragon’s mouth weren’t glow in the dark—the strategically placed spotlights and the beautiful quilt in all shades of green on the ergonomic chair. It was a dream come true.
“Would you like to come play with me tomorrow? I was thinking about starting another round of The Witcher III.”
Barion turned to Jon. “I’d love to. We could see what happens when we sacrifice the children. I haven’t done that before.”
“Me neither.” Jon averted his gaze. “With you, I might be brave enough to try.”
“It’s a deal. When would you like me to come over tomorrow?”
Jon thought for a moment. “I have some work to do, but should be done around two p.m. Is that okay for you?”
“Whatever works for you, Jon. My schedule is pretty open, you know.” For the first time in what felt like eons, admitting to his lack of meaningful things to do didn’t bother Barion. On the contrary, he was grateful for it.
“Then I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.” Jon wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sorry, but I’m not very good at social interactions. I loved our discussion, though.”
“It’s fine. I’m a bit rusty myself.” That was exaggerating, because the things Barion knew about modern social interactions would easily find room on his pinkie’s nail. It seemed to soothe Jon, though, which was all Barion cared about. “See you tomorrow then.” He lifted his hand, the claws extended, to rip into space and time.
“Tomorrow.” Jon’s shy smile followed Barion back home to his mansion.
Chapter Three
Jon was pacing nervously in his living room-gaming paradise. It was almost two p.m., and he wasn’t sure if he was happy about Barion’s upcoming visit or if he should hide until the demon was gone again. Inviting Dre’s brother had been a spur of the moment thing, born out of the genuine pleasure Jon had felt while discussing The Witcher games with Barion. It was the first time he had spoken with somebody like-minded in real life, and the exhilaration about it had messed with his common sense. He was a zombie, a solitary creature. He didn’t invite people randomly into his sanctuary. No, he didn’t. Only, he had done it. Barion would come. He was sure of it.
Before Jon could work himself up even more, a tear appeared out of thin air, hovering right next to his two sub woofers, heralding Barion’s appearance. A moment later the demon stepped through, his broad figure allowing Jon only a brief glance at the darkness from which he had come. Sammy had once told him traveling via time-space was quite boring once you got over the rush of being ‘there’ one second then ‘here’ the next, but Jon wasn’t sure if something so awesome could ever get boring.
