Page 16 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

“Vesper, I believe your tiny twin may be broken,” he observes, genuinely concerned. “Is there something I can do to help her put the food in her mouth?”

It’s hard not to laugh or smile or chuckle at everything he says. “She’s fine,” I assure him. “Seventy-five percent of toddler minds are full of playful curiosity and twenty-five percent are raging tantrums when things don’t go their way.”

I shuffle the bacon around, avoiding any hot, greasy sparks. Sure, some children are more prone to tantrums. But Bethie is so well-behaved. And I’m very grateful.

I cook the bacon to a crisp perfection, not overdone. Placing the entire hoard on his plate, I stray to the table and set it before him. He leans over and sniffs. No reaction yet. And then…

My demon lover selects a piece and slowly brings it to his mouth for a first taste, tongue sliding out. He freezes. My heart skips a beat. Blood practically thunders in my eardrums.

And then…

Everything in his expression melts. His adorable tail starts wagging, thumping on the floor like a giddy puppy.

I lean back against the counter, almost enthralled as he plunges strip after strip in his mouth, savoring each one. It spreads more warmth through me because he doesn’t gorge. Not that I would blame him. But something about how he eats. Happy purrs rumble in his chest, resonating in his throat. I grin when he licks the bowl, followed by his fingers before he suddenly turns to peer up at me, still sucking on his pinky.

After a few moments of silent stare-down, Valefar’s mouth spreads into a toothy grin.

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” I practically chirp with pride.

He tilts his head. “Did you know serving a demon food seals a mating bond?”

I freeze, all the blood leaving my face. “You’re kidding, right?”

He gives me a blank stare. Right. No kids in hell.

“Joking. You’re jesting me, right?”

The light dawns on his face. Then, he grins, showing all his sharpened demon teeth. “Yes, Lady Ves. I am jesting.”

Every tense muscle in my body relaxes. My breath heaves in relief. “I thought you couldn’t lie.”

“Lie, no.” He lifts a clawed finger. “Jest? Yes. And…it was more of a jesting question, not a proclamation.”

That’s a relief. Don’t need any of that nonsense.

He slowly rises. Oblivious to us, Bethie alternates between toying with her food and sticking her sticky fingers in her mouth.

Valefar approaches, his shadow towering over me. I smile as his tail wisps along my leg while he drinks in every inch of me. But I’m pleased when they settle on my face.

He swallows hard, then parts his lips to say, “Thank you, Vesper.”

Aww, his hand flexes, then his fingers curl toward me, yearning. I don’t hesitate to snatch up his hand and squeeze it, bringing it to my face, encouraging him to touch my cheek, which is beyond flushed. “You’re welcome, Valefar.”

He opens his mouth to say more when movement from the left catches his attention.

“Oh, there you are,” I say to our resident freeloader cat with the personality of a Husky drama queen.

Valefar moves. A gasp tears from my mouth at the same time that he crashes to his knees, stretches his arms out, and lowers his head to the floor, his whole body trembling.

Bethie gurgles, her hand reaching for the cat while I stare down at the demon and ask, “What in the world are you doing?”

8

Valefar

“Imust pay my respects to a descendant of the ancient gods of the sphinx,” I tell her as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The feline trots up to me and begins to bat at my hair, claws sinking in. Perhaps I am being chastised for my many sins.