Quirion nodded. “Come on, Milo, we might as well see what new books Sammy has gotten.”
Before he followed Quirion, Milo gathered the letter and the draft, winking at Dre, knowing as well as the red demon that Quirion couldn’t wait to see what book he would buy from Sammy today. Because even though he wasn’t a centuries olddemon, Sammy had an uncanny knack for finding those rare treasures Quirion loved.
* * * *
Three hours later, Milo was chilling on the couch in Sammy’s and Dre’s living room, listening with one ear as his two employers were discussing the history of ink. Apparently ink wasn’t just a means to convey meaning by putting symbols on various surfaces but also a cultural phenomenon in its own right, not that Milo had ever doubted that—yawn. He flinched only a little when Dre appeared in front of the TV. The huge red demon cocked his head toward the dining table halfway between the open-plan kitchen and the living room, listened for a moment, then grinned. “Let me guess, the letter isn’t even half written?”
“Try not even one-fifth. We’re stuck at ‘Dear Madame Nyx, I want to sincerely thank you for the kind and generous opportunity you have presented me.’ That’s as far as we got before Sammy made some comment about how the ink on the letter had an interesting shade of royal blue and how he wondered if SBW was using a special mix and then off they went discussing the history of ink and the different shades possible by using I-don’t-know-what.” Milo tried to sound annoyed, which he was, to a certain degree, because he hadn’t seen his technically free afternoon and evening going this way, but he also couldn’t keep the fond smile from his lips. After all, his two mentors and friends were going to all this trouble to help him.
Dre winked at him. “That’s more than I would have bet on, so be grateful. It sounds like this is going to take some time. How about you go down and take care of the shop? It’s another hour till closing time and you know we usually see some traffic about half an hour before that. I’ll take care of dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Milo got up. It had been some time since he last closed the shop for Sammy and he figured it would bemore fun than staying on the couch, teetering on the brink of sleep. “I have a hankering for Mexican food, and I know Qui loves seafood from Crete.La Poisson RoyaleI think is the name of the restaurant.”
Dre nodded. “I know that one. Mexican food for you, fish for Quirion and I can sort Sammy and myself out. See you in an hour.” Claws sprang free from his hand and a moment later Dre was gone again.
Milo passed Quirion and Sammy on his way to the door. “I’ll just go down to look after the shop.”
Both looked at him with slightly confused expressions. “Yeah, you do that. As I was saying, ink from Japan…” Quirion kept on monologuing about a certain way to produce ink stones in Japan during some bygone era which Sammy nodded along to, adding a “Yes, exactly,” here and there.
Milo chuckled and went down into the shop. As Dre had predicted, there was an uptick in customers shortly before closing time. At the practically last minute, Troy and Declan, the two werewolf alphas mated to Quirion’s father, Alerion, the King of all Demons, stormed into the shop. Both of them were wagging their reusable gigantic to-go cups in the air while exuding an aura of utter importance. Milo started walking toward the counter. “Let me guess, you need another caffeine fix?”
“You must be a mind-reader!” Declan exclaimed as if he and his mate hadn’t telegraphed their need so loudly even a blind person would have picked up on it. He slammed his cup on the counter. “Make it extra strong.”
“For me as well!” Another slamming sound suggested that Declan’s cup had joined that of his mate.
Milo turned to them. He knew he was already at a slight disadvantage because while good, his lattes weren’t as perfect as Sammy’s. Contradicting the wolves could end in them stormingup to Sammy’s apartment, demanding he should make the holy beverage. Then again, yanking Sammy and Quirion out of wherever their discussion had by now taken them—which could be anywhere, as Milo was well aware—might not be the worst thing to ever happen. “I’m not sure if you need that much caffeine at such a late hour.” He lifted an eyebrow.
Both wolves stared at him. And stared a little longer. Their stares weren’t exactly hostile, more confused as to why he should think more caffeine was a bad thing. Finally, Milo gave in. Obviously the two had trained with their cat, Mr. Fluffy Sparkle Pants, who could outstare a statue if he so wished. Milo didn’t stand a chance and he knew it. “Two lattes with double-double espresso coming.”
The satisfied rumbling from two predators’ throats wasn’t as reassuring as they might have thought. Although not as terrifying as it might have been for normal people, either. Briefly, Milo wondered when he had stopped seeing himself as part of the normal, aka human part of the population. While he foamed the milk for Declan’s cup, he thought it might have been shortly after Sammy had introduced him to the entire book club. Looking these powerful paranormals in the eyes, knowingtheyknew that he had tried to sacrifice Sammy to Dre had been a formative experience. Everything afterward was just the proverbial cherry on top. After the terror of that evening, he didn’t think anything could truly frighten him anymore, which had helped him tremendously at various funding meetings with the heads of the faculties he worked in. The only thing he still feared was losing his mother to cancer, and even that had lost some of its horror over the past few years.
Declan and Troy thanked him for their fix with nods and a murmured, “See you soon,” before they exited the shop with their to-go cups clutched to their chests as if they were babies in need of cuddling. Milo hurried to close the shop, tidied upthe coffeemaker and switched the lights off before he returned upstairs, where Quirion and Sammy were still perched over the letter like two vultures waiting for prey to stop twitching.
Chapter Four
“I really think we should go with the ink from Japan, Quirion. It shows that we mean business.”
Quirion furrowed his brows. “I’m in two minds about this, Sammy. On the one hand, you are absolutely right. The ink you suggested would not only look lovely on the laid paper but would also nicely reinforce that Beverly isn’t dealing with an amateur.” He sighed. “The whole point, though, is that she thinks she’s addressing Milo, and we have to keep in mind that he might not be as eclectic in his tastes as we are.”
“I heard that.” Milo’s voice sounded dry behind them. Both Sammy and Quirion turned around. Quirion was ready to start a lengthy apology before he saw the amused twinkle in Milo’s eyes. “And when it comes to paper, ink and wax seals, nobody’s taste is as—what was the word you used?—eclecticas yours and Sammy’s.” He winked. “I see you haven’t made any significant progress.”
Sammy shook his head. “No, Milo, we have. We’re now positive which paper we’re going to use, look, it’s this nice laid paper I found online in a shop operated by a lovely lady who also does YouTube videos where you can watch her during the process. Quirion and I started using her different products some time ago and we’re super happy with it. The paper will tell this Miss Nyx how serious you’re taking her while at the same time presenting her a little puzzle, because this isn’t paper from one of the big producers like the factory in Louisental, Bavaria, where she gets hers from. She will, however, no doubt befascinated by its high quality, which is what we want to achieve. Her being fascinated and her interest being piqued.”
“Yes, and the ink, we’re close to finding a solution for the ink!” Quirion added when Milo’s expression didn’t immediately break into a joyous smile.
“That’s great, guys. You see, I’d just been hoping we could maybe be done with the entire letter by now? Like you said earlier today?”
Quirion shared a look with Sammy. Milo was such an intelligent, smart young man, but sometimes, he just couldn’t see the bigger picture. Then again, that was a prerogative of youth, wasn’t it? Being unbothered by consequences and ramifications. And he had Quirion to take care of that side of things for him.
“Yes, that’s what I said, but it might be I have underestimated the depth of this quandary. Fear not, Milo, Sammy and I are going to find the perfect solution and create a letter Beverly won’t be able to resist!”
“It’s kind of creepy when you two aren’t arguing.” Dre’s annoying voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water on Quirion’s reassurances.
“Oh, Dre, I told you. Quirion and I don’t argue. We discuss heatedly in good spirits to find common ground through the extensive sharing of arguments.” Sammy went to his mate to give him a kiss.
They totally argued like siblings over the last piece of cake—or vultures over a dead carrion—and it was the most fun Quirion had had with a member of his family since the day he was born. He always found it hard to agree on something with his father, but the old demon had gotten one thing absolutely right. Bringing Sammy into the family was Dre’s greatest accomplishment by far.
“All I hear is that you have found fancy words to hide your squabbling behind a curtain of respectability.” Dre waggled his eyebrows.
