I shrugged, trying to keep a straight face.“Not exactly.They’re usually not this…energetic in the morning.Must be something about your presence.”
Vol, still perched on Rathiel’s shoulder, crossed his tiny arms and glared at the cat.“You mangy, sun-worshipping excuse for a beast!Touch me again, and I’ll send you straight to Hell’s litter box!”
I grinned.“Looks like you’ve officially become the battleground for a cat and an imp.Congratulations.”
Rathiel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.“Wonderful.”
I chuckled, then turned and headed to the kitchen.“I’m making coffee.Want some?”
“I have no idea what that is,” Rathiel replied as he followed me into the kitchen, Vol still riding his shoulder like an unhinged parrot.
Vol snorted, his little face twisting into a mischievous grin.“Oh, you’re in for a treat, Meat Sack.Coffee is the nectar of the damned.It’s like liquid energy—dark, bitter, and strong enough to raise the dead.”
I shook my head, reaching for the coffee beans.“Don’t listen to him, Rathiel.It’s just caffeine.Essential for surviving Earth.”
“Oh, it is,” Vol continued, his tone dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm.“It’s the only thing that keeps these mortals functioning.Without it, they’re as useful as a sorority girl with a hangover.You’ll see.One cup, and you’ll be hooked—assuming it doesn’t burn a hole through your stomach first.”
Rathiel shot me a sideways glance, one eyebrow arching.“As delightful as that sounds, it seems I must remind you that I can only drink blood.”
I froze mid-reach for the coffee grinder, blinking.“Huh.I serve the vamps here all sorts of drinks.But, yeah, I guess there’s always blood mixed in, now that I think about it.”
Vol chuckled.“Booze and blood, eh?Sounds like my kind of a happy hour.”
Ignoring Vol’s commentary, I turned on the coffee grinder, the noise filling the kitchen as I mulled over the thought.“Maybe it’s an earthbound thing,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the machine.“They must have adapted to blend in with humans better.I mean, if they’re living here, they’ve probably had to get creative to avoid suspicion.”I faced Rathiel with pursed lips.“You can’t eat anything at all?”
“Have you ever seen me eat food?”
I frowned as I pondered his question.“No.But I honestly wasn’t exactly paying attention.It’s not like we had family dinners in Hell or anything.”
I leaned against the counter and stared at the grinder as it whirred away.His diet presented a minor problem, seeing as I didn’t exactly stock my fridge with the crimson stuff.And for some reason, I didn’t love the idea of him feeding on humans.There was something about the thought of Rathiel sucking on someone’s neck—afemalesomeone—that had my stomach twisting.
Shaking off that uncomfortable image, I pushed forward.“I’ll figure it out.You obviously need blood, and while I don’t have any lying around, the bar does.”I tapped my fingers on the counter, already brainstorming solutions.“I’ll talk to my boss.Figure out a way to snag some supply without raising too many questions.”
“Discretion,” Rathiel replied, his voice dry.“A skill I know you’ve always excelled at.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, catching the faintest twitch of his lips.Almost a smile.Almost.“Relax, Captain Bootlicker,” I shot back.“I’ll keep it vague.It’s not like I’m going to waltz in and announce that I’m stockpiling for a vamp who’s crashing on my couch.”
To my surprise, his lips actually curved into a small, subtle smile, one he tried to hide from me.
“What’s so funny?”I asked, my suspicion immediately piqued.
“Oh, nothing,” Rathiel replied, his voice deceptively light.“It’s just been a long time since I’ve heard you call me that.”
I blinked.“Since I called you Captain Bootlicker?”
He merely shrugged, the faint smile still playing at the edges of his lips.
“When did I ever call you that?”To your face, I wanted to add.Usually, I kept that little insult to myself.But then it clicked, and I groaned.“Let me guess.It’s one of the memories you took from me?”
Rathiel opened his mouth to respond, but I held up a hand before he could say anything.
“Don’t.Just—don’t.Let’s not go down that rabbit hole right now.”I grabbed the coffee pot and poured myself a mug, the rich aroma filling the kitchen.“I’ve got enough to deal with without focusing on my existential memory crisis.”
“Fair enough,” Rathiel replied.
“Good.”I sipped my steaming coffee and muttered into the mug, “Captain Bootlicker.Sounds about right.”
This time, Rathiel didn’t bother hiding his smile.
