Romily looks over at me with wide eyes like he heard our conversation. We weren’t trying to be quiet, but he looked busy with his text conversation so I assumed he’d ignore us.
Bellamy gives him a sour expression. “I still hate it when you call me a kid.”
Romily smiles brightly, steps over to us, kisses Bellamy’s forehead, and wipes some schmutz off his face. I’m prettysure the schmutz is just freckling, but Bellamy sighs like he’s annoyed, pulls away, and turns around, walking away.
Romily links his arm with mine, watching after his kid like a proud parent. I’m pretty sure Bellamy is at least fifteen years older than him, but this here is why I’m really going to like being an honorary Foxily.
No one gets murderedas Darcy leads us to a backpack with my phone and other effects in it and my prosthesis tossed on the floor next to it. There are demons around, but absolutely no one bothers us as we walk through a throne room to the throne and grab my stuff. The implant looks how I think it should, which is cool, but I don’t know how useful it will be now. Did my bone heal or is it stripped on the inside where the threads of the implant were yanked out of it? It’s a huge bolt, and it was screwed into my bone. I don’t know if it can be reintegrated. I'll have to get an x-ray and then another surgery if it’s even possible. I don’t even know if they can reuse this one or if I just have to buy another. I know my MawMaw would be happy to do it, but she shouldn’t have to, you know?
“Are you guys going to kill all of our leaders?”
As a group, we turn toward the voice. They’re a demon with no significant gender markers wearing an Assassin’s Creed cosplay with the hood and mask. Their eyes flame out like they have fire instead of melanin in their irises.
“If your leaders would stop attacking our family, we wouldn’t have to put ‘em down,” Darcy declares, the defiance in his voice daring this person to make the same mistakes their dead leaders keep making.
Fox steps up to Darcy, then Bellamy joins them, and for some reason the entire crowd in the throne room takes a collective step back. Bellamy speaks, projecting his voice to the back of the room. “Let me make this as clear as possible, my friends. The Foxily family is off limits to everyone unless you want to die. I won't help you, Santanos won’t stop you, and neither will the new Avatar of Neutrality, because hewantsto kill you. Darcy, Santanos, and I are all Foxilys. You fuck with one of us, you’re fucking with all of us. Adam died because he kidnapped Darcy and a Hell dragon. You want to die? Go ahead and fuck with us. Otherwise, we will let you live in peace as long as you aren’t tipping the scales out of balance. Any questions?”
Reality splits open, and a huge Asian guys steps through the portal followed by a smallish blond guy wearing a club shirt and tight pants. Behind him huge body-builder type man comes through, and with him is a tiny guy with blond hair who looks like an angel, one of the cute ones. Not gonna lie, his grumpy face is darling.
Bellamy gestures to the blond. “So now you have all the Avatars here in one place to tell you to stop fucking with the Foxilys.”
Santanos, I assume, turns and eyes all the people in the throne room. “I am currently the only heir with legitimate claim to this throne since my parents death and Adam’s murder of my brothers. I will be ruling from Earth, but I assure you, I will take the position as king seriously. We will be overhauling the current governmental system and bringing it up to date. Monarchies are ridiculously outdated, and while I understand that I will be making my own position more ceremonial than political, giving the people the power to choose who represents them is a better option. And to reiterate: anyone,absolutely anyone, who fucks with the Foxilys is fucking with me, and I will have no mercy. Any questions?”
The cosplayer who addressed us first steps forward again. “Who will represent you here while you’re doing this major government overhaul, and what kind of government are you planning to give us?”
Santanos grins. “The most evil government I can think of.”
The big bodybuilder guy steps in close to Santanos. “You’re not going to be the Avatar of Evil forever. You probably shouldn’t make a government you’re going to hate when you’re not evil any more.”
Santanos kisses his cheek and takes his hand, threading their fingers together. “You are right, of course, my love. I’ll figure something out.”
The guy nods once, and turns to the rest of our group with a nice smile. He’s probably Edovard, the one they call Pupper. He has golden retriever energy all over him. “Hassan wanted to make sure everything was alright,” he explains.
The Asian man glances at us, but then turns his attention forward where Santanos is talking to some of the demons who still have questions.
Romily hugs Edovard, and Fox speaks, pointing to his partner. “Hello, Pupper. I’m so happy to see you. Is this your first time in Hell?”
Edovard hugs Romily back. “No, Papa. I’ve been here a couple of times with Santanos and Hassan. Sometimes he comes here to shift, and he brings me because I like watching him dance.”
Hassan’s cheeks are pinker than they were before when I look at him.
“You’re the other Hell dragon.” I wonder if he’d show me his dragon form so I have an idea of what mine looks like.
Hassan glances over at me, but the little guy—Gregory, I assume—steps so that he’s between me and Hassan. “He’s my dragon, and no you can’t see him. He’s not shifting anywherenear another dragon, so you can fuck off back to whatever spire you crawled out from.”
“This is Elijah—” Fox starts, but Darcy cuts him off, jumping between me and Gregory with his arm bleeding and his knife pointed at Gregory.
“Do not start your shit with Elijah. I will happily eviscerate you and your dragon and use your intestines for sausage”—Is it poetic using someone else’s words against them? Or lazy?—”that I will feed to the little gargoyles as a thank you for all their hard work. I will reduce you to a Scooby snack if you so much as breathe wrong in Elijah’s general vicinity.”
That’s a lot of trauma talking.
I reach over and slide my fingers between his. The blood from his arm seeps between us as I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss his knuckles. “Thank you for wanting to protect me,” I say between gentle kisses.
He blinks up at me, fiery almond eyes refocusing on me through his anger. The tension goes out and he huffs, laughing. “Yer right, Peach. You can protect yerself.”
I let him pull me into a kiss and surrender to his need for affection. When he pulls back all the aggression that made him snap at Gregory is gone. When I look back at the little blond dude, he’s in Edovard’s arms, and the big guy is rhythmically patting his butt. “Nothing better than butt pats to improve someone’s mood, right?” I comment to Edovard.
Edovard smiles like the morning sun, nodding. “That’s the same thing I say.”
