Dre’s face fell, but only for a moment.
“Yes, you do need somebody. Sammy thinks so as well.”
Quirion snorted. “Sammy also thinks that organizing books by field first and author second is an appropriate and meaningful way to store them. His opinion cannot be trusted.”
Dre made a face which was pretty impressive, what with the rows of needle-sharp teeth and the dramatic eyeroll. “If he wants to do it that way, then itisright.”
Quirion knew better than to argue with a lovesick fool. In time Dre would learn to see his mate’s many flaws and accept them as inevitable in somebody who was born human. It might take a few hundred years though. Perhaps longer.
To speed things along and get blissful silence back—because Dre would neither leave nor shut up before he got what he’d come for—Quirion asked, “Who would I need as an assistant?”
“I’m so glad you asked.” Dre was beaming as if Quirion had offered anything, and voluntarily at that. “You remember Milo? The young man working for Sammy?”
“The one who tried sacrificing Sammy to you?”
“Yep. That one.”
“Why would I want him as my assistant?” Quirion was still puzzled why Sammy had taken the boy under his wing. It was just further proof that Dre’s mate was short a few books on the shelf.
“Because he needs money, but he can’t accept it as a gift, and when he works for you, it’s definitely hard-earned.”
That was insulting. Quirion looked down his nose on Dre. “I have you know it would be a great honor for him, from which he’d profit greatly.”
“My words exactly,” Dre murmured. “So it’s a deal? I’ll bring him here tomorrow, so you can hash out a schedule.”
Quirion furrowed his brow. He wasn’t sure how they had gotten from this being a preposterous and ridiculous idea to Milo coming over.
“Great. You’re a lifesaver, big brother. See you tomorrow.” Dre got up and had both opened and vanished through a portal before Quirion could even start formulating a proper response to this utter nonsense. Well, steamrolling had never worked on him and if Dre thought he could start with it now, he was sorely mistaken.
* * * *
“Well, I guess having an assistant wouldn’t besucha bad idea,” Quirion heard himself say. His common sense was screaming at him to shut his stupid mouth, while his heart had taken over control to turn the hopeful smile on Sammy’s face into one of pure happiness. There was no way Quirion would dash the spark in Sammy’s eyes and not just because he knew their father, Alerion, King of all Demons, would then come barreling in. No. It didn’t matter that Sammy’s views on the correct listing of books were warped at best and technically an abomination. All that mattered was the pleading look in those heterochromatic eyes. Quirion should have known his devious younger brother would bring in the heavy artillery.Sly bastard.
And the boy, Milo—although boy was probably wrong, according to Dre he would reach the age of eighteen in a few weeks and therefore be considered an adult in human society’s eyes—clearly was an apprentice of Sammy when it came to pleading looks. Quirion knew when a battle was lost, though herefused to go down without one last jibe. “Perhaps I can save him from your bad influence, Sammy. I’m sure you’ve been trying to corrupt his poor, innocent soul. But fear not, Milo! I shall teach you the proper way of organizing books.”
“Oooh, Quirion, you are the best!” Sammy hugged him, ignoring the scathing comment. Quirion had to concentrate to keep his expression grumpy, when his brother’s mate subjected him to the full force of his cuteness.
Judging from the knowing glint in Dre’s eyes, his endeavors were in vain. Quirion shot his brother a scalding look over Sammy’s head, which prompted Dre to mime zipping his lips.
“Thank you,” Milo said, blinding Quirion with a smile that rivaled Sammy’s. Quirion was so dazed, it took him some time to come up with an answer. Dre, being the predator that he was, injected himself smoothly into Quirion’s and Milo’s delicate first interaction.
“Perfect. Now let’s talk wages.” He rubbed his hands with a positively gleeful expression. “Milo has quite the way to work, so he’s definitely entitled to mileage as well as hazard pay, of course, what with the gigantic toad in your moat. Hey, that kinda rhymes. Toad—moat!” Dre grinned happily.
“No, it doesn’t.” Quirion furrowed his brows. Clearly his brother didn’t have the slightest clue about word building, rhymes and patterns. The barbarian probably wouldn’t recognize a sonnet when it hit him in the face. Though his brother’s poor literary knowledge wasn’t the point here. “Hazard pay? The toad is perfectly peaceful, as long as you treat her with respect…”
“Her? How do you know it’s a she?” Sammy leaned back from their hug, his fascinating two-colored eyes narrowed. “On Earth, the easiest way to determine a toad’s gender is their size—females are way bigger than males, but you need a male for comparison…” Sammy tapped his right forefinger against hislower lip, a habit of his when he was deep in thought. “Have you seen any male toads around here? If not, we have to lift her up. If she starts chirping or if the underside of her mouth is darker than her belly, then she’s actually a he.” Sammy frowned. “Though I guess she’s too big for lifting her up. And she probably wouldn’t appreciate it.”
Two observations that were very true. As well as so far from the topic as they could probably get.
“I think the toad’s gender is irrelevant to what we were discussing.” Quirion let go of Sammy to stare at Dre. “I don’t see how mileage and hazard pay are an issue. Though I could offer health insurance.”
Dre glared at him, making strange faces. “Mileage, because this is a differentuniverseand hazard pay because of the toad.”
Quirion opened his mouth to contradict these ridiculous statements. After all, Milo would travel by demon, which was a lot faster and safer than any transportation Earth had to offer normal human beings. A particularly violent grimace made him rethink his answer, though. “Yes, of course, hazard pay, health insurance, mileage, let’s not forget holiday pay, because this universe doesn’t have weeks or months or hours.”
The happy glint in Dre’s eyes told him that his brother was completely immune to sarcasm,andthat he was on the right path. Inwardly sighing about this charade, Quirion continued. “Which would amount to an hourly wage of thir—”
Dre’s brows furrowed.
