Just like he had all those years ago, Nicolas bounded up the porch steps and held out a six-pack of lagers, this time with Ashmedai at his side. “I haven’t seen the new place before, so happy housewarming.”
Julian grinned at him, taking the brews. “Aw, Nic, you didn’t have to do this. Come in, come in.” He ushered them inside, and Nicolas took in the space, now crowded with familiar faces.
The rooms were bigger than Julian’s last house. The stair railing had been removed, and the wooden staircase freshly polished. The floors were old, but the classic wood still looked pretty good, if in need of a good sanding and polishing. Fresh paint coated the walls, a cream color that glowed with warmth in the light of the antique chandelier.
“Come on, let me give you a tour. Everyone else has seen the place already.” Julian bounced from room to room,showing them the dining room, the kitchen, the master bedroom, the back patio, where the grill was smoking and Isaac wielded a pair of tongs and a beer. There was a half-bath under the stairs, two bedrooms and another bathroom upstairs. Every room was half-finished, scattered with boxes of new flooring tiles or paint cans or rolls of plastic.
When they got back to the patio where the others were gathered, Daniel was waiting to hand him a fresh beer. He took it with a smile, clinking their bottle necks together and taking a sip. Ashmedai was a steady, looming presence at his side. Being around him in the presence of others was still a novelty. He was so used to Ashmedai showing up after dark, hiding in the shadows, slipping beneath the blankets and enveloping Nicolas in his arms like a clandestine lover.
“Been a while since we’ve done anything like this, huh?” Daniel said, looking around. Demons and humans were scattered around them.
A squad of eight was nothing compared to this. The patio was crowded, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Even knowing some of these demons had threatened him on more than one occasion wasn’t enough to shake the fragile sense of belonging he felt.
“I missed it,” he confessed.
Daniel softened. “Me, too. I grieved for our old squad there for a while. It hurt that people I’d once considered friends, even brothers, couldn’t look past a difference of opinion and still see me as someone worth knowing.”
Julian drifted over to them, squeezing Daniel’s heavy shoulder with one hand.
“It’s more than a difference of opinion,” Nicolas said wearily, aware that others around them were listening, too. “It’s worse now. They think you’re evil. Somehow it stoppedmattering that you guys are still human. You believe something different than they do, and that makes you the enemy. I don’t know exactly when the change happened. It was like something poisoned the water. A little at a time, they just kept drinking. And now it’s too late.”
Daniel blew out a breath. “Dad always taught us that the commander was the highest authority. Commander knows best. Commander knows all. Commander makes the call, you obey.”
“That’s exactly what they all believe,” Nicolas said. “Only now they don’t realize that their commander is the one leading them down the wrong path. We were never meant to pass judgment on a human being. They’ve forgotten that. They don’t have to agree with the choices you or I make, but they’re not meant to condemn us for it.”
Julian shifted, putting his other hand on Nicolas’s shoulder. “Boys,” he said, looking from Garcia to Garcia. “You’re bumming me out. I’ve got Call of Duty. You want to shoot some stuff?”
Nicolas laughed.
Daniel wanted to play, so Nicolas found himself parked on the sofa with a controller, trying to figure out how to shoot and not die while the others fought over who got to go next. They used to play this a lot, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a controller. When he inevitably died, he surrendered his spot on the sofa and the controller to Alex and ruffled Daniel’s fluffy curls as he joined Ashmedai, whose head was tilted toward the screen like a puppy.
“It’s fake,” Ashmedai said. “You control fake people to shoot other fake people.”
“Yeah. It’s a game.”
“What is its purpose?”
“What’s the purpose of any game?”
Ashmedai blinked at him.
“To have fun,” Nicolas said for him. “You want to try it?”
Malachi, on the adjacent sofa with Luke, perked up. “Oh,pleasetry it. Pretty please?”
“More fun to kill real people,” Ashmedai said. There was a plaintive, almost pouting note to his raspy voice.
Someone snorted, and Nicolas smiled. “All right, you don’t have to.”
Ashmedai raised a hand, and the soft pads of his fingers traced Nicolas’s bottom lip.
This was what they’d wanted, right? Ashmedai had told him he wanted to see him in the light, and here they were. Surrounded by their friends, they were here together, as a couple, with nothing to hide.
His smile softened, and he threw an arm around Ashmedai’s neck and reeled him in for a kiss. It seemed important, suddenly, that he show both himself and Ashmedai that they could do things like this around others without being gawked at. Ashmedai sighed into it, long fingers curling around the back of his neck. Sharp teeth pricked at his bottom lip in the barest tease, and then they parted. Nicolas was sure he wasn’t the only one grinning like a loon.
Ira wandered in from the kitchen, and Daniel crowed, “Ira! Come and play with us!”
He smiled, looking at the television and then over his shoulder at Wolf. “I don’t know, I’m not much for video games. Maybe Wolf would—” He stopped abruptly, his dark eyes going distant.
