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“Yeah, don’t you love her at all?” Gin pinched her nose like the curtains stank.
They were both crazy. I didn’t smell a thing—except for Calli’s amazing cooking. “The curtains are not ugly,” I told them.
“They really are,” Zane told me.
I frowned. “Well, at least they’re fireproof!”
“Knowing your daughter, we’ll definitely have the answer to that by the end of the evening,” Harker said.
But Sierra had discovered something way more fun than setting Calli’s curtains on fire. She’d joined in Angel’s meatball game.
“Nope!” I swooped up Sierra just as she was about to eat one of the meatballs off the floor.
“Calli’s meatballs!” she shrieked in protest. “Sierra want meatballs!”
“Here.” I offered her the meatball on my plate, one that hadn’t rolled across the floor.
“No!” Sierra stuck her tongue out at me, then knocked the meatball off my plate.
She tried to dive after it, but I caught her. “No, not that dirty meatball.” I made a face at the meatball on the floor. “This nice, clean one.” I put another meatball on my plate.
And Sierra knocked it off again.
“Sierra want meatballs!” She pushed and kicked against my hold, trying to get to the meatballs on the floor. “Sierra want meatballs!”
“You can have meatballs. These meatballs.” I showed her the plate of clean meatballs.
Her face twisted with disgust. “Sierra no want those meatballs! Sierra want Angel meatballs!”
“I am an angel. And Daddy’s an angel too.” I pointed at Nero. “We’re eating these meatballs.” I took a bite of a clean meatball and rubbed my stomach. “Mmmm.” I looked at her. “See? These are angel meatballs.”
Sierra gave me the stink eye.
All the meatballs rose from my plate, caught in Sierra’s telekinetic spell. Then they shot across the room like a swarm of hornets.
Nero trapped them with his magic, freezing them in the air before they smashed against the wall.
“I don’t think she understands,” I sighed.
“Actually, Leda, I think it’s you who doesn’t understand the game,” Tessa laughed.
“Yeah, seriously, the girl knows what she wants,” Gin added. “And she wants those meatballs.” She pointed at the meatballs Angel had gathered into a pile.
I frowned. “Those meatballs are on the floor.”
“So what?” said Zane. “We ate things off the floor all the time when we were kids, and we’re still alive.”
Sierra nodded along. Like she was following this conversation perfectly.
I looked at her.
And on cue, she shouted, “Sierra want meatballs!”
Then she dove out of my arms, stole a meatball from Angel, and ran away with it. The cat sprinted after her, out of the dining room, across the hall into the living room. I heard the scraping of claws slipping across the floor, the sound of the cat quickly changing direction. And Sierra’s giggles. And then happy chomping noises.
I sat back down, sighing, “She’s totally eating that meatball off the floor.”
Nero looked at me.
