“Heads don’t pike themselves.” I tossed him a wave. “We’ll send you a card at Christmas.”
Subtle tension quivered through Asa when we turned our backs on his father, but I tapped his thigh with my wand, assuring him I was armed. We were going home. If we had to go through his dad first, so be it.
“Please tell me he put the moves on me as some misguided fatherly test of my love for you.”
“You said love without frothing at the mouth or your eyes rolling back in your head.”
“Hey.”I elbowed Asa. “I’m not that bad.”
He kissed my temple, and I felt his smile against my skin.
“Father doesn’t believe no applies to him. Consent is not in his vocabulary.”
“What I’m hearing is, there’s a good chance I’ll get to teach your father a few new words.”
“I wouldn’t have invited you today if I had known he would be here.”
“You’ve met my family.” I leaned into him. “It’s only fair I meet yours too.”
Mine was a boatload of crazy manned by a crew of the criminally insane, Aedan being the exception. Guess that made him the captain.
“Father aside, how did you enjoy the spectacle?”
Had he really not heard the answer I gave earlier? Or did he want one tailored to him?
I wasn’t sure how deeply he slept when the daemon was ascendant, but they each had moments they kept for themselves. They didn’t share everything. Thank the goddess. The daemon must have held on to that one. Proof I accepted him, that I was proud of him for surviving.
“I enjoyed the fights more than the concession stand offerings,” I hedged. “Clay might not agree.”
“Those…” Asa wiped a hand over his mouth, “…weren’t crickets.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Tell me later, Ace.” Clay met us halfway back to the bleachers. “Have a nice chat with Papa, Rue?”
“Stavros wants to knock me up in the hopes of birthing the next apocalypse.”
“I miss all the good stuff,” he grumbled. “Did you at least kick him in the nards for the insult?”
“No.” I regretted it too. “I was trying to be good.”
“Sorry FIL was an assclown.” Clay pinched my cheek. “And that he wants to raid your ovaries.”
“Pinch my cheek again,” I growled at him, “and see what happens.”
“Which cheeks would those be?” He pitched his voice low to match Stavros’s. “Wanna polish my scepter? Ride my throne? Lick my crown?” He doubled over laughing until he wheezed. “The last one’s a keeper.”
“How about I erase your shem then donate your body to Mrs. Gleason to use as a scarecrow?”
“I’m not scared.” He smoothed a hand down his chiseled abs. “I look good in plaid.”
Thanks to his (literally) sculpted physique, he wasn’t wrong.
An urgent ring from his pocket shut us up as he brought the cell to his ear. “Kerr.”
As Asa listened in, he pressed his lips into a hard line, but I was stuck waiting.
“Yes, sir.” Clay vibrated with glee. “We’ll leave now.”
After ending the call, Clay all but skipped to our private exit and waited for me to activate the portal.
Only after we stepped from the bustling arena onto the quiet driveway in the exact same predawn hour as we had left for Daemon Fight Club, thanks to the pocket realm’s distorting time, did he hold still long enough to explain.
“The Boo Brothers are back.” A slow grin spread wide. “Three guesses who gets to hunt them down?”