“Hi, Quirion,” he welcomed his mentor, who had appeared next to the sink in the kitchen.
The huge demon smiled and lifted his hand in greeting. Milo knew that he had his glamour on in case his mother was here, but apparently once a person had seen a demon without their glamour, it didn’t work anymore. Just like Sammy, he saw the demons in his life in their true form. Or rather in the true form they chose in the moment. They could actually control their size, which varied between the six-foot-eight the glamour showed the world and the seven to eight feet when they went full-on demon. They also could hide their scales, though not the color, another reason the glamour was necessary. Barion, Quirion’s youngestbrother, for example, looked like a Smurf with his deep blue hue. Dre’s color was that of a cooked lobster and Quirion sported a gorgeous linden green. Wings and claws were retractable and usually hidden, with the claws coming out quickly and regularly whenever the demon was agitated. When Milo concentrated hard enough, he could see the humanoid form—Milo had yet to meet an actual human man who looked like the demons and wasn’t Photoshopped to the high heavens—the glamour gave them, but why bother? He had stopped being afraid a long time ago.And now I sound like an old man.
“Greetings, Milo. Why have you called me? Isn’t today your day off?” Quirion furrowed his brow. “You need to relax on your days off, Milo. We talked about this.”
Yes, they had talked about this, repeatedly. When Quirion had helped him to study for his scholarship at MIT. During the first semester, when Milo had worked himself to the ground for fear of losing said scholarship. During his studies for the undergraduate tests. Then afterward when he was trying to narrow down the field he wanted to work in and couldn’t make a decision and tried to keep up with everything. And now that he had found his field, nanotechnology, the trend continued. Quirion had always been and was always there to remind him to take care of himself.Just like the perfect boyfriend.Again, a thought he should probably tamp down on.
“Greetings, Quirion. I’ve called you because I got this.” Milo held up the envelope. He had learned quickly not to beat around the bush with Quirion. The demon didn’t understand the concept of leading up to something. According to him, bad news didn’t get any better by delaying it, which was right, of course, but doing it nevertheless was a very human trait.Social convention. Well, human social conventions lost a great deal of their power once a person dealt with the supernatural on a regular basis. Declan and Troy, the two werewolf alphas,probably wouldn’t recognize it if it bit them in the noses. Mavis and Maribel, the two witches, used social convention as a source for their personal amusement. Amber, the banshee, had no clue anyway. Emilia, the vampire, had stopped heeding social conventions of any species a long time ago—and who would contradict a gorgeous vampire who could rip your spine out through your stomach without breaking a sweat? And Jon, well, Jon lived behind his computers and in Barion’s arms. Milo was pretty sure social convention didn’t dare touch him there.
The letter was snatched from his fingers with a speed Milo had rarely seen on Quirion and which was usually reserved for the snagging of rare books.
“It was in your mail?” The demon scrutinized the seal as if he was afraid it would bite.
“Yes. I went out about ten minutes ago to get it and there it was. First, I thought you and Sammy want me to participate in your letter exchange, but I was sure you would have mentioned it before sending me something.”
“Of course we would have mentioned it! How would you be supposed to get the right paper, wax, and seals? That’s a delicate matter that can’t be rushed. We would have given you ample notice!” Quirion turned his mesmerizing green eyes to him—and yes, his eyes were green as well. The whole demon was a mixture of pretty, pretty green shades, his eyes two emeralds in his linden green face. “Do you want to partake in our correspondence?”
“What? No!” Milo lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “You know me. Numbers are more my thing.”
“Sammy and I both thought so when we discussed the matter, but I do realize it might have been rude to simply make the assumption.”
“You’ve discussed including me?” Milo was touched.
“Of course we did. You work for both of us, and we were sure you could have provided a level estimation of our positions on various topics regarding books.”
So they had wanted him as kind of a middle man. Milo was glad they had decided to keep him out of it. When Sammy and Quirion started discussing, things could get heated quickly. Milo gladly left Dre the honor of smoothing things over.
“I feel flattered. And you were right, I would have felt out of place in your correspondence.”
Quirion nodded. Then his gaze went back to the letter. “I’m amazed it took them so long to find you.”
“You know who sent this?” Milo stepped next to Quirion to stare at the seal.
“Yes. TheSociety for the Betterment of the World. Quite the pompous title, if you ask me. They are a more or less secret society, consisting of both human and supernatural creatures who have united under the banner of science to bring this world forward as a whole.”
The way Quirion pursed his lips at the end of that sentence made clear what he thought of the idea.
“If they are secret, why do you know about them?”
“I’ve been around for some time, Milo. There’s little Idon’tknow.” Quirion lifted his nose high. His haughty tone suggested there was more to this story than the demon let on.
Milo could be accused of many things, stubbornness chief among them, closely followed by a curiosity that didn’t care for danger as long as it was satisfied.
“So you know them how?” He was trying to sound nonchalant. As if he wasn’t dying to hear more about Quirion’s connection to this secret or not secret society with the pompous name and the grand letters who seemed to have somehow set its sights on him.
“I was one of the founding members.” Quirion huffed so violently that the thick envelope in his claws vibrated.
“Aaand?” Milo thought he could see where this was going. He wasn’t bragging when he said he knew Quirion by now. In his head, the scene unfolded almost like a little movie.
“There were creative differences and we decided it was best to part ways.”
“So you started out as a rock band which then became a society for science?”
Quirion lifted one eyebrow. Well, without the glamour, it was an intricate pattern of scales in various sizes and shapes in the place where humans had their eyebrow. The principle was the same. “You’re being sarcastic.” He grinned. “It means you’re relatively relaxed. That’s good.”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Qui. I think I know what happened but please tell me.” Milo wasn’t above using his pleading eyes, as Quirion called them. They weren’t as good as Sammy’s, who could move a rock to do his bidding, but they weren’t shabby either. He could see Quirion’s resolve crumbling like a cake that had been left out for too long.
“Fine. They didn’t want to see things my way and when I, very politely I might add, told them about the error of their ways, they strongly suggested I would be better off bettering the world on my own. I could only agree, because who wants to work with a bunch of stuck-up amateurs who wouldn’t recognize their mistakes if they ate their books? They kept the name though.”
