Page 60 of Hollow

“New Year, new me,” Jack insisted. “I’m trying humble pie out for a change.”

Dimitri quirked a brow. “You are, as they say, the liar.”

“Fine, I asked Astaroth for a favor,” Jack confessed. “It’s not like he had anything better to do, and he likes proving he can conquer any human ruling or whatever. He’s weird, but he gets shit done.”

“What did the demon dog do?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Jack shrugged. “All that matters is he got us reservations, no questions asked, and ensured the other patrons couldn’t complain about our unconventional attire.”

“He is a good dog,” Dimitri said with a small chuckle. “Very capable.”

“Yes, yes, whatever,” Jack sighed. “Just don’t let him know it. We’ll never hear the end of it.”

“And what did you have to give him?”

“Originally, he wanted a thousand souls sacrificed under a blood moon for some archaic harvest ritual.”

“I presume you negotiated a more reasonable deal?”

“I should’ve gone with the one-and-done ritual sacrifice.” Jack tsked. “Would’ve been easier. The little menace ended up making sure I have to give him extra walks on the weekends, non-negotiable twenty-minute belly rubs every evening, and more of those bull testicle treats that he likes so much.”

Dimitri’s face soured. “Is that a demon kind of treat?”

“No, actually, that’s a regular ole dog treat.” Jack shook his head. “I don’t understand it, but whatever floats their boats.”

Dimitri assumed Astaroth always intended on getting the extra luxuries around the house. It wasn’t that the hellish hound wouldn’t have appreciated a thousand human sacrifices, but Dimitri suspected, as wicked as the dog was, that he enjoyed his regular routine. Now, he managed to enhance it by arranging walks, cuddles, and treats.

“I will help with the weekend walks.”

“And the belly rubs?”

“I do not rub bellies.”

“Not even mine.” Jack wiggled his shadowy eyebrows in the most absurd manner.

Dimitri snorted as they stepped inside the restaurant.

The Maître d’ certainly flexed his snooty muscles in a poor attempt to shame Dimitri and Jack into considering dining elsewhere. It didn’t work. Dimitri loved that Jack could smile through any condescending comments and laugh off any disgusted looks. And they certainly got a few bewildered stares as they were escorted to their table.

“Front and center?” Dimitri tensed as he took his seat. “You really are making me put in the work.”

“It’s the best seat in the house,” Jack said. “I suppose they’re all the best seats in a fancy establishment like this.”

When their server arrived, he listed off the specials and the best wine pairings. Jack ordered a bottle and picked their entrées. Dimitri smiled, grateful he wouldn’t have to read through the menu of food far too fine for his palate.

Their wine and soup arrived first. Jack squinted at the half-empty glass and picked up the bottle to top off his drink.

“I will never understand the purpose of only filling the glass halfway.”

“It is to allow for the release of flavors,” Dimitri explained.

Jack retrieved a twirly straw and put it in his wine glass.

“I don’t wanna release the flavors,” Jack said, taking a big sip through the shadows of his pumpkin. “Aaah, I wanna taste ‘em.”

It was creative, for certain, the ways Jack managed to eat with the pumpkin mask. It also sparked a bit of warmth in Dimitri’s chest. Jack had been comfortable enough around him to lift his mask when they ate together, even if he often preferred to wear it. Here, though, in the company of so many, Jack wouldn’t bother lifting his mask at all. He’d merely use the shadows to transport the food and drink to his mouth.

Dimitri wondered how the logistics of such things worked.