"Then we do what we've always done."
His calm attitude about this was almost annoying. It was also a little reassuring. Whether I liked it or not, his lack of panic made me feel just a little bit better about the weeks we'd been fixing the house and learning how to use my kick-ass Muse abilities. The simple truth was that the angels couldn't get into Daemin now. I'd made sure of that when I locked the veil. No angels in, no demons out. Well, except my great-grandfather, who was now their messenger if I was ever needed.
"So when do we start worrying about dragons?" I finally asked.
He moved a little closer, turning me to face him so he could hook an arm behind my back. "We're watching, Sia. Why do you think Bel gets you coffee every morning? If he's scouting Vesdar for angels, he may as well stop and get you a caramel mocha sugar latte thing."
I leaned into him just a bit. "Yeah? So just Bel?"
Nick pulled us both back against the counter. It held him up, and he held me before him, wrapping me in his arms. "I will have you know that Sam's the reason you have a wardrobe. Luke has been doing a few things for Ron."
"Mhm," I teased, lifting my chin so he could reach my mouth. "And what about you, Satan?"
"Oh, I made sure to tell the demons on Earth to stay there. I also bought a few stocks for you, set up a new bank account, and re-warded the house you know best. Completely practical things, of course."
Big things. The kind that were easy to overlook but had to be done, and which would make my eternity a little easier. The sort of things that didn't get a man much glory, but Nick never seemed to need that. He'd already figured out that the way to my heart was most easily bought with respect.
"Thank you," I said softly. "So how long until our new room is done?"
"Couple more days. Maybe a week. We have the floor down, and most of the walls, but no door yet, and no roof."
"And you're sure you're ok with this?" I asked for just about the millionth time.
He nodded. "The only reason Firiel's picture is still on the mantel is because Luke asked for a little more time. Sia, I'm moving on. It was two million years ago. I think I've mourned her long enough."
"And it's ok to change your mind," I reminded him. "Having me doesn't mean you forgot her."
His eyes shifted to the side. The blue irises were so much easier to follow than the stars of his demonic ones. "Yeah," he mumbled. "But I have more than just you. Our legion is..."
"Whole," I finished, nodding to show I understood. "Bel's back. You added Ronwe. You and Sam are doing well, too, right?"
"We're just friends," he insisted. "We both happen to love you, but he and I are just friends."
"Mm." I pulled back a bit, but not enough to break free of his grasp. "Can we not throw around the L-word haphazardly with Sam yet? I kinda don't want to jump into that too casually."
"Ok," he agreed. "We're both smitten with you. Better?"
I wobbled my head from side to side. "Would be, but you already ruined it. Look. I know it's hard for the group of you to remember, but I'm only a quarter-century old. Not billions of years. I just met y'all a few months ago. What, four now? And I've been with Sam less than that. So you know, that's not a lot of time regardless of how long we've been alive. This whole relationship is still pretty new. Ron and I are both trying to feel things out, but it's going to take a bit before we just get it the way the rest of you do. Ok?"
He tugged me back against him. "I like that guy, you know."
"Like-like? Or just 'he's cool' like?"
Nick chuckled once. "I think he's a very good addition to our legion. I'm actually upset we didn't bring him in sooner. I'm also glad that he and Luke are working out. Those two need each other."
"Yeah, but what about Bel?"
Nick's eyes narrowed as he watched my face. "What about him?"
"He and Luke? He likes guys like Ron. At least he said something once that made me think that's what he meant. He's also trying to flirt with me. So, in general, what about him?"
"Yeah..." Nick drawled, pulling the word out. "Luke's been talking to Sam about that. Sam talks to me."
"And?" I insisted.
Nick turned, putting my back against the counter before he released me and headed toward the meal he'd left half-finished. "It seems that angels and humans have a few things in common. Luke is madly in love with Ron. He claims that's why..." And he just stopped.
"Nope. Nuh-uh," I said, whacking at the leek-looking vegetable-thing I was supposed to be chopping. "This entire legion is trying to keep secrets from each other to not hurt feelings. Everyone's all careful with who is doing what, and Sam's the only one who can manage to say anything clearly! Seriously, Nick. Is this something I need to know?"
Nick sighed deeply. "Luke married Firiel to get to me. He fell in love with her in the process. You know that part. Michael killed Firiel to destroy me, and it almost worked. What you probably don't know is that Luke hurt just as bad as I did. He wanted me to drain him, knowing that no one would ever refill him. He asked me to make him sleep for the rest of eternity. It's the closest thing to death an outworlder can know."
"Oh."
He nodded, but his hands were focused on our strange-looking meal. "Of course, I refused. Instead, I found a friend and someone to grieve with. Now, I have an ally who's also a very good friend. But Luke made me a promise long ago, and he's been holding onto it like a lifeline. He swore that history would not repeat itself - and yet here we are. All of the First Legion is living in Firiel's house, making it into our home. It's not as easy as he likes to pretend, and whether you believe it or not, Luke really is a very good deceiver."
"Liar," I corrected. "He does it with the best intentions, but call it what it is."
Nick just canted his head in a feeble shrug. "I don't blame him for what he's learned to do any more than I do you."
Oh, now that was an opening I'd be a fool to let pass me by. "And what do I do, Nick?"
He glanced up, dark blue lashes framing his fairy eyes. "You think you aren't good enough. Or maybe it's more that you shouldn't be allowed to be good enough. I'm not quite sure, but I think that's why you have so much trouble accepting that all of this is ok."
"That is not what you meant," I insisted.
His lips curled into a devilish little smile. "You come from a world where women are ruled by shame. Shame that you aren't pretty enough, smart enough, loyal enough, or anything else. You could sum all of that up as 'not good enough.' It colors every decision you make - for now."
I scoffed at him. Mostly because it was true. Phrased that way, it was even easier to see, because all my life, I'd been fighting to reach some goal that was always moving. If I made good grades in elementary school, that wasn't the same as high school, and that wasn't the same as college. If I dated someone, then I made a bad choice. If I picked a career path, it was the wrong one. All my life, I'd always had haters - everyone did - and trying to prove them wrong had unconsciously ruled my choices.