Page 38 of When I Accidentally Summoned a Demon

Damn.

I restore the glamour immediately, but her white shock tells me I was too slow. She saw something, though I cannot tell how much.

Face paling, Vesper touches my forearm. “Mom?”

Her mother turns to Vesper, but says nothing. After a tense moment, she reaches for her purse. “I should go.”

Vesper’s shoulders loosen slightly. “Okay.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Sure.”

She glances back at me once, hunting for something. Then she leaves, the cheerful bell above the door entirely at odds with a tense silence.

Vesper exhales slowly and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Just great.”

15

Vesper

ONE WEEK LATER

“Are you quite sure I do not look entirely undignified?”

Valefar sits cross-legged on my living room rug with a bath towel draped over his shoulders, holding perfectly still. Bethie is perched beside him with the solemn authority of a very small artist, dragging a streak of purple across his left horn.

A warmth spreads through me. Emotional. Intimate. Long-awaited. And completely unexpected.

On the television, Beauty and the Beast is halfway through the opening number. Provincial villagers with their aggressively catchy judgment.

I press my fingertips to my lips and try to give his question the seriousness it deserves. “Not at all, Big Guy. In fact, you look entirely sexy to me.”

I fail spectacularly at containing my grin.

His golden eyes narrow. “I question the objectivity of your assessment.”

“You should. I’m extremely biased.” I smile. I find every part of him sexy. But today? It’s just…more.

Bethie pats the horn with the flat of her brush. “Pwetty.”

His whole expression softens. “Thank you, little beastie.”

“See?” I gesture at her with my coffee. “Second opinion.”

He considers this gravely. “Her judgment carries significantly greater credibility than yours.”

“Rude.” I contain a laugh.

On screen, Belle turns down a proposal in front of the entire village. Valefar’s tail flicks once against the rug, which is the closest thing he has to a running commentary before he actually starts talking. It takes him a few more minutes.

“Why is no one alarmed by the animate candelabra?” he wonders.

“But talking ponies is somehow not worthy of this level of shock and awe?” I can’t help but call him out.

His tail flicks restlessly, his lips pressing together. “You are missing the point, Ves.”

Bethie makes an outraged sound because the horn moved. He apologizes to her, then continues. “And the teapot speaks. As well as the wardrobe. This is quite abnormal. Is this not the most pressing concern in this narrative?”