Victor’s hand stilled on his wine glass. The movement was small, a fraction of a hesitation, but Ava had been watching him for days now. Learning his tells. This one saiddanger.
“It’s complicated.”
“Make it simple.” Mia sipped her wine without breaking eye contact. “You’re an ancient demon who manipulated Ava into a protection arrangement. Now you’re catching feelings. Yes or no?”
“Mia,” Ava warned.
“No, it’s a fair question.” Victor set down his glass with careful precision. The movement bought him time, and Ava wondered if Mia noticed. “May I help with dinner?”
Mia blinked. “What?”
“Dinner. I notice you’re making pasta. I have some experience with Italian cuisine.”
“You cook?”
“I’ve had centuries to learn.”
Mia looked at Ava—is he serious?—then back at Victor. Her wooden spoon lowered by degrees, though she didn’t release it entirely.
“Fine. But if you poison us, I’m haunting you for eternity.”
“I accept your terms.”
Victor moved into the kitchen, rolling up his shirtsleeves with precise folds that revealed forearms Ava was definitely not looking at. He examined the pot on the stove, lifted the wooden spoon, tasted the sauce. Considered.
“Do you have oregano? Fresh, preferably, but dried will work.”
“Cabinet above the sink.”
He reached for the spice cabinet and paused, hand hovering over Mia’s organizational chaos. “Your system is… unique.”
“Alphabetical by how much I like them.” Mia crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Paprika’s in front because paprika’s the best. Everything else can fight for second place.”
“Fair enough.”
He found the oregano, wedged between nutmeg and something unlabeled, and added a pinch to the sauce. Then, almost absently, he made a small gesture with his hand.
The flame under the pot flared bright blue.
“What the hell was that?” Mia demanded.
“Adjusting the heat.”
“The flame changed color. Flames don’t change color.”
“Did it?” Victor stirred the sauce, his expression innocent in a way that fooled absolutely no one.
“Don’t play dumb with me, hell boy.” The wooden spoon came back up, pointing at his chest. “What did you do to my stove?”
“I may have enhanced the flame slightly. Better heat distribution. More even cooking.”
“Enhanced it with what?”
Victor continued stirring. “Nothing dangerous.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s perfectly safe.”
