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He met my eyes almost reluctantly, but then he let out a tiny, breathless laugh. “Does Pellini still make those bacon maple roll things?”

I smiled. “Sure does, though since real maple syrup is pretty hard to come by nowadays, he uses heaps of brown sugar instead.”

“I guess I’ll choke them down somehow,” he said with a tragic sigh. I pretended not to notice the exhaustion that bled through his words, but at least he wasn’t vibrating with tension anymore. The ever-present anger had retreated as well. It was far from gone, but he no longer appeared driven—and consumed—by it. Rhyzkahl had faced Idris’s anger then calmly reached in and ripped out its roots.

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I threw my arms around Idris. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

He held me close. “Glad to be back,” he replied, voice rough. A faint shudder rippled through him then was gone.

Only a few minutes had passed since I’d dashed out here. Everything felt different now, but I had no idea why or how much. Or what to do about it.

Together, Idris and I headed to the house. When we reached the steps, I snuck a glance back at Rhyzkahl in time to see him pass a hand over his face. I quickly looked away, but the image was seared into my mind. Was he simply tired? Weeping? Brushing away a mosquito?

Pellini was slouched in a chair on the porch, kicked back with a book in his hand. He gave every appearance of being there simply to enjoy the morning, but I had no doubt he’d deliberately remained outside for the entire debacle, watching my back and ready to intervene as needed. “There’s coffee if y’all want it,” he said, as if Idris and I were simply returning from a pleasant stroll.

“You know I do,” I said. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“Any time. You were a bit faded.” He stood and dropped the book onto the side table then followed us inside.

Szerain was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in one hand. I was mostly sure he hadn’t been there during my frenzied dash to the back yard, but with my focus locked on the impending Idris-Rhyzkahl smackdown, pink bald eagles could’ve been roosting in the sink and I wouldn’t have noticed.

Szerain looked a thousand times better than last night, though a faint sense of “meat-grinder survivor” still lingered about him. He lifted his mug to me in greeting then pushed off the counter and extended his hand to Idris. “It’s good to finally meet the greatest living summoner on Earth or the demon realm.”

Idris looked discomfited by the praise but took the proffered hand. “I suppose I should thank my . . . sire for that,” he said with a flat, not-quite smile.

“Hardly.” Szerain gave a derisive snort. “It’s not as if he did a damn thing except ejaculate at the right moment. Everything else has been your own efforts.”

Idris stared at the very un-lordlike lord. “Ejaculate at the . . .” A sound that was almost a laugh slipped from him. “That certainly puts things in a different perspective. Thank you, my lord.”

Szerain gave a mock shudder. “Let’s not do the ‘my lord’ crap.” He plopped into a chair at the end of the table. “Besides, we’re all on the same team. Hell, I was one of the original members of Kara’s Posse.” He grinned.

“You and Zack were the first,” I confirmed as I hunted for a clean mug.

Pellini set a bowl of dough and a baking sheet on the table. “Special Agent Ryan Fucking Kristoff,” he drawled. “Jesus, you were an arrogant shit.”

“And you were an obnoxious asshole,” Szerain shot back with humor in his voice.

“Still am,” Pellini said proudly. “Only way to stay sane around Kara.”

“Truer words were never spoken!”

I rolled my eyes as the two fist-bumped in solidarity. “Oh, give me a break. I’m the one who has to deal with you two pricks.”

Szerain clucked his tongue. “And verbal abuse, too.”

“Wimps,” I said, though I couldn’t help but smile. The verbal sparring felt homey, like good-natured family squabbling.

Pellini dragooned Idris into helping make the faux-maple biscuit things. After locating a clean mug in the dishwasher, I poured myself a cup of coffee then set about doctoring it properly.

Now that the crisis was past, I was increasingly aware of a not-quite-rightness, as if I was forgetting something. Or that the room had changed subtly. The world felt slightly off, but I couldn’t put my finger on precisely what it was.

Thud

I turned with a frown. “What was that?”

Thud thud thud thud

The others shared similar wary expressions as the noise continued in ominous rhythm. “It’s coming from down the hallway,” Idris said, eyes narrowed.

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