23. Lucien
LUCIEN
I stare at the door, then down at the pie in my hands. It suddenly seems inadequate. Maybe I should have brought another one. Or flowers. Flowers would have been nice. Sparkle’s mother might like flowers.
Sparkle nudges my shoulder with his. He looks fucking adorable tonight, his ears perked beneath his hair and his tail lazily swaying behind him. “You’re nervous.”
“I am not nervous.” I straighten my shoulders and adjust the collar of the shirt I changed seven times before coming here. “I’m a higher demon of the second ring of the demon realm. I don’t get nervous.”
Sparkle catches my free hand, threading our fingers together. His tail bumps mine before curling around it, and some of the tension finally leaves my shoulders.
We’ve been dating for a few weeks now, and somewhere along the way, I’ve become part of Sparkle’s life instead of constantly trying to shove myself into it.
I still go to Wick’s most mornings, but now there’s a chair for me at the table.
Wick has learned my coffee order. Beau sends me ridiculous pictures of Sparkle when he thinks Sparkle isn’t looking.
Gabe no longer watches me like he expects me to stuff Sparkle into a sack and run off with him.
Lark feeds me information on Sparkle’s favorite things.
And Wren encourages all my shenanigans. Talon doesn’t glare at me anymore, thankfully.
Sparkle and I have had several successful dinners all of which did not involve hostile cats. He’s spent the night at my place, and I’ve fallen asleep on his overly pillowed couch more than once. Sometimes we teleport somewhere new. Sometimes we do absolutely nothing.
And now he wants me to meet his family.
“Remember,” Sparkle says, squeezing my hand. “You promised to behave around Papa.”
“I remember.”
“That includes no threats, curses, setting him on fire, or teleporting him somewhere horrible.”
I sigh. “You take all the fun out of meeting parents.”
Sparkle’s eyes narrow, but his lips twitch. “You can glare.”
“I can work with that.”
He opens the door without knocking and calls for his mother. The house immediately erupts with noise. Feet pound against the floor, voices overlap somewhere deeper inside, and a small boy skids around the corner before stopping directly in front of us. Ferris.
His wide eyes travel from my boots all the way to my horns. I bend slightly when Ferris continues staring at my horns. “You can touch one if you want.”
His entire face lights up. He reaches carefully toward me and runs his fingertips over one horn before letting out a quiet, awed sound.
More of Sparkle’s siblings crowd into the hallway behind him. I’ve heard enough about them over the past few weeks that I can put names to some of the faces, though the twins make that considerably harder. They whisper to each other while openly staring at me until Sparkle’s ears flatten.
Sparkle’s mother appears before this can devolve any further, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she approaches. I straighten instinctively. This woman once ripped a magical pendant off her husband’s neck and threatened to kick him out of his own house. I respect her immensely.
“You must be Lucien.” Her gaze travels over me, lingering briefly on my horns and tail before she smiles.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sparkle makes a strangled sound beside me, but his mother laughs and pulls me into a hug before I can prepare myself. I carefully return it, suddenly very aware that I want this woman to like me.
“Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you.” I hold out the pie when she releases me. “I brought dessert.”
Her smile grows. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
Sparkle gives me a suspicious look, probably because I haven’t told him about the backup pastries waiting at my place, in case this one somehow proves insufficient.
Sparkle’s father stands near the dining room.
His white ears are visible tonight. So is his tail.
He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see me, and the feeling is mutual.
His ears angle backward as his gaze travels over my horns, my tail, and finally Sparkle and my joined hands.
I glare. He glares back. Sparkle squeezes my fingers hard enough to remind me of my promise. Right, right. Behave.
Dinner is chaos, but it’s a warm kind of chaos. Everyone talks over everyone else, dishes move constantly around the table, and Ferris manages to ask me at least a dozen questions about demons before I’ve finished half my plate.
I answer most of them while Sparkle sits beside me, laughing whenever his siblings interrupt each other. Someone is always touching him. A sister bumps his shoulder. Ferris leans against his arm. His mother brushes past and gives his head an absent little pat. They adore him.
His father barely speaks, which makes keeping my promise considerably easier.
Then someone knocks over a glass. Sparkle immediately pushes his chair back, but Frances is already on her feet with a towel.
“I’ve got it,” she says, waving him back down while she cleans the spill.
His mother glances at him before continuing her conversation like nothing happened. Nobody makes a big deal about it. Nobody tells Sparkle he isn’t allowed to help. His sister simply handles the problem herself.
His hand finds mine beneath the table, and I lace our fingers together.
It happens again when his mother gets up to grab something from the kitchen. Sparkle shifts forward before catching himself. A few minutes later, Ferris asks for more to drink, and one of his sisters grabs the pitcher before Sparkle can reach it.
Every time, his ears twitch. Every time, he makes himself stay seated.
He’s trying so fucking hard to learn how to sit at a dinner table without being responsible for everyone around it. I lift our joined hands and press a kiss to his knuckles. Sparkle finally looks at me, his green eyes flicking over my face.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
His gaze travels around the crowded table before returning to me. His smile is small but genuine. “Yeah. I think I am.”
His tail slips around my ankle beneath the table.
Eventually, his father decides to acknowledge my existence.
“What do you do?”
The conversations around us don’t completely stop, but they quiet enough that I know everyone is listening.
“I own a nightclub in Evansville.”
His father leans back in his chair. “That’s all?”
Sparkle stiffens beside me.
I could mention the centuries I spent working for demons far more frightening than the man across from me. I could mention the wealth I’ve accumulated or the places I’ve been. Instead, I take another bite of dinner before answering.
“That’s what I do now. I used to track souls for the demon realm.”
His father’s brows rise. “And you gave that up to run a club?”
The question shouldn’t be difficult, but my answer catches somewhere in my chest.
I spent centuries doing something because I was exceptionally good at it.
People needed me. They praised me for it.
They sought me out because there were very few beings who could track someone across realms the way I could.
For a long time, I let being useful become the same thing as being happy. Then one day, I realized I wasn’t.
“I was good at tracking. I still am. But being good at something isn’t a good enough reason to spend eternity doing it.”
Sparkle goes very still beside me.
I glance at him before looking back at his father. “I wanted something different, so I chose something different.”
His father’s ears twitch. He looks down at his plate without responding, and I realize a second too late how closely my answer resembles everything Sparkle has been going through.
Sparkle squeezes my hand beneath the table.
His mother gives me a thoughtful smile from across the room before asking one of the twins about their latest trip, allowing the conversation to move on without turning what I said into some grand revelation. Thank fuck.
By the time dinner ends, Ferris has extracted a promise that I’ll eventually teleport him somewhere interesting with Sparkle and his mother’s permission, and the twins have asked enough questions about our relationship that Sparkle threatens to throw dinner rolls at them.
With all the kids helping, it doesn’t take long to clear the table. Sparkle helps too, but he’s not running the show. He carries a few dishes while his siblings grab the rest, and his mama doesn’t have to direct him through every little thing.
His dad glares at me from across the room, and I glare right back. We must look ridiculous because Sparkle snorts as he passes between us with a stack of plates.
His mama brings out the pie and somehow cuts it into ten perfect pieces. Conversation settles into something easier over dessert, everyone talking about work, school, the twins’ travels, and whatever else comes to mind. I find myself listening more than talking.
I sorta wish my family was like this. Then again, Stefan is insufferable on the best of days, so I’m not sure I actually want regular family dinners with him or any of our other siblings. Maybe I just like this family.
Sparkle’s mother hugs me again before we leave.
“You’re welcome here anytime, Lucien.”
The warmth that spreads through my chest catches me off guard. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
I slide my hand into Sparkle’s as we step outside. The night air is cool, and Sparkle takes a deep breath before looking back at the house.
“That went better than I expected.”
“Your mother invited me back. I consider that an overwhelming success.”
“She likes you.” Sparkle leans against my side as we walk down the porch steps. “Ferris might like your teleporting more than he likes you, though.”
“I’ll win him over.”
Sparkle laughs, but when we reach the bottom of the steps, he stops. His expression softens as he looks up at me.
“Thank you for behaving around Papa.”
“I promised I would.”
Sparkle slides his hands over my chest. He rises onto his toes and kisses me. I curl my arms around him, holding him close while his tail winds around mine. No fireworks this time. I’ve learned that lesson.
When Sparkle pulls back, he doesn’t go far. He rests his forehead against my chest while I stroke one hand slowly down his back.
“I still feel weird leaving when everyone’s cleaning up after dessert,” he admits.
“I know.”
“I know I don’t have to do everything anymore. Sometimes my body doesn’t seem to know that yet.”
I kiss between his ears. “You’ll figure it out.”
His purr rumbles quietly against me.
Maybe that’s why this little cat shifter got under my skin so fucking fast. Sparkle is learning that he doesn’t have to be useful to deserve a place in someone’s life.
And maybe I’m learning the same fucking thing.
Sparkle lifts his head and smiles at me, his ears relaxed and his tail still tangled with mine. “Take me home?”
My chest warms.
“Anywhere you want, darlin’.”
I wrap my arms around him, and the world folds around us.