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My main worry had actually been Kiti teasing Greid, seeing as we kind of had to explain how we’d met. Surprisingly, she hadn’t. But when Greid had gotten up to go make us all drinks, she’d followed him. I’d excused myself to use the bathroom and left Una in the living room, then crept to the kitchen in case I’d have to jump in and defend Greid.
Instead, I’d found them hugging. Until Kiti pulled back and flicked Greid on the forehead, so he smushed his hand into her face in retaliation.
Taking a deep breath, I got out of the car and almost slipped as my boots hit the icy ground, but Greid was already there to steady me.
“Ugh, god, you’re so embarrassing.” He shot me a teasing grin. “Try not to break any of my mom’s fancy dishes, okay?”
“Shut up.” I shoved his stomach as he opened the back door. “Did the cake survive the trip?”
I’d been practising making cake for the last couple of weeks specifically for today. Greid had told me his mom’s favourite was chocolate beetroot cake, so it’d taken me a while to get the recipe right and produce something that actually tasted good, but Greid had assured me my final practice cake last weekend was amazing. He’d eaten three-quarters of it, so it must’ve been okay.
“Looks like it.” He took out the cake carrier and handed it to me. “You okay carrying it?”
“I think I’ll manage,” I said dryly as I watched him hook six huge gift bags over his arms. “Let me take some of those.”
“No, I’m okay.” He kicked the car door shut with his boot. “I’ll get Jake.”
I huffed. “Well then at least let me take some of the bags—”
“I’m good, I swear.” He skidded as he made his way around the car. “Go inside, it’s cold.”
I clutched the plastic cake carrier tighter and turned to look at the house. There was a wreath decorated with nightberries on the tall front door and fairy lights strung along the front porch. Through one of the windows, I spotted a tall, dark figure crossing a room, bouncing an equally dark but much smaller figure in their arms.
You can do this. They’re just people. They’re Greid’s family, and Greid is the sweetest guy in the world. The cult isn’t going to come up today. The weirdest thing about you will be that you’re the sole human in a big group of demiurgus.
Exhaling a breath that puffed out of my mouth in a cloud of steam, I started walking up the drive. Before ringing the doorbell, I glanced back to make sure Greid wasn’t far behind. He was juggling the gift bags and Jake’s leash, but he was on his way.
About ten seconds after ringing the bell, the door swung open to reveal Una in a green apron with a Santa hat on her head. The demiurgus version of a Santa hat—forest green with a big red plastic jewel on the end.
“Beryl, darling! Merry Christmas!” She grabbed my shoulders and kissed both cheeks, then went still. “Did you bring him? Where’s my baby?”
“I’m right here.” Greid appeared behind me, weighed down by all the bags hanging from his arms.
“Not you, kushka.” She peered around him and gasped. “There he is! Oh, my precious angel.”
“What the fuck,” Greid grumbled as his mom dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around our Borzoi’s neck.
We’d adopted him from the pound at the beginning of December. He was a couple of years old, so already enormous—long and lanky just like Greid, with white-and-tan fur. He was also just as gentle as Greid, and almost as lazy. Some days it felt like I was fighting a losing battle trying to get him and Greid to go for a walk.
“I already have a plate of meat fixed up for you,” she told Jake in a cooing voice as he excitedly licked her face. “Can he have gravy?”
“Probably not.” Greid shifted the bags. “Too salty.”
“My gravy is not ‘too salty’, Greid.” Una stood up and ushered Jake into the house. He trotted inside after I unclipped his leash, tail wagging as he immediately started sniffing everything. “Ooh, is that a cake?”
“Oh. Yeah.” I held it out to her. “It’s, um… Greid said your favourite is chocolate beetroot, so…”
“Oh, Beryl, you are such a sweetheart. Isn’t she such a sweetheart, Greid?”
“She’s alright.” He grinned at me behind his mother’s back as she turned to call out.
“Nuni! Come and help your brother with the gift bags.”
“Oh shit, Grode’s here?” I heard from somewhere deeper in the house.
Grode?
A few seconds later, a tall demiurgus sauntered into the hallway with a big shit-eating grin already on his face. He had long, artfully windswept hair tinted with blue, and was wearing an expensive-looking cashmere sweater with tailored slacks. A chunky diamond gleamed in his earlobe, and there was an equally thick signet ring on his little finger.
