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Kahn might have known Isaacs was fluent in the dialect, except the males in the Light Kingdom had detested Isaacs. …Which honestly was typical, regardless of where he went. Even as a kid, Isaacs found it hard to connect to people, especially other boys. It almost always led to fights. Fuck knew why. Probably because they were all assholes.

Instead, Isaacs preferred to spend his time with girls. Nice girls. Sweet, serious, rule-following members of the opposite sex. Who didn’t feel the need to get into pointless pissing contests, and who enjoyed playing puzzle games, and who kept him in line whenever he threatened to go too far into villainy. They didn’t care if he could prove himself in sword training. They just wanted to talk about complicated fantasy novels.

As a boy, instead of dealing with the miserable little Light Phase Tarzans running around the thick jungle, Isaacs had hung out with Kahn’s studious cousin Mara. And Mara loved languages. She’d taught Isaacs way more than he’d ever wanted to about their guttural dialect.

Not for the first time, he thanked Gaia that his handful of friends were all intelligent women. You just learned so damn much from them.

“Before I go making up the guest room for you to move in, you should know that living in the human realm requires restraint.” Randa told Isaacs in a wry tone. “You hate restraint. The first time your favorite food truck closed down, you’d be wanted for murder.”

“All the more reason for you to do the cooking.” He argued. “And I’ll be at your beck and call every evening to try out recipes. A loyal audience of one. It’s the least I can do.”

Randa laughed.

Kahn snapped. He shook off Julius’ restraining hand and vaulted to his feet, tossing aside his box of Pop-Tarts. Isaacs braced for confrontation, but the Light Phase stalked past him, prowling into the kitchen. Cupboards slammed open. Drawers slid out and crashed closed. A steady stream of muttered curses was audible to everyone.

Randa continued to ignore him. “So, how’s Nia’s pregnancy going?” She asked Isaacs determinedly.

Kahn marched over to the island, dumping a plate and silverware onto the tiled surface.

“Nia’s great.” Isaacs assured Randa, munching on a perfectly cooked carrot. Hopefully, they really were good for people’s eyes, because his could use all the help they could get. “She’s thinking of calling the baby ‘May,’ because she and Cross met here in Mayport Beach.”

“How sweet.”

“That damn Air Phase will drive Kahn to Gone Wild.” Rye muttered to Julius.

Isaacs pretended total ignorance.

“This is why we all needed to be here tonight.” Julius agreed. “Randa believes he can self-regulate. I’m not so sure. If he’s not plotting to kill Isaacs, he’s plotting to kill Ben.”

Who the hell was Ben?

“Kahn always does the most self-defeating shit.” Rye concurred. “Murders will frighten Randa away. Why can’t he just follow proper courtship rules, like I am with Tallulah Jayne?”

Who the hell was Tallulah Jayne?

Julius sighed. “I am trying to trust in Randa’s assessment, but she might have too much faith in his control. Perhaps we should jump him out of here.”

“Don’t fucking try it.” Kahn snapped in the Elemental language. “I am ‘self-regulating’ just fine.” He seized one of the tall chairs, flipped it around so he straddled it, and sat down directly next to Randa.

Everyone stared at him.

Except Isaacs. He just ate more pot roast, enjoying himself immensely.

Randa gaped at Kahn. “What are you doing?” She blurted out in astonishment, forgetting to ignore him.

“Eating.” He took a piece of pot roast for himself and thudded it onto his plate. “Why? Do you have a problem sharing your food with me?” It was a direct challenge.

Randa was quiet for a long moment, watching him. “No.” She finally decided.

“Good.” He defiantly shoveled some pot roast into his mouth. “Because, I…” He stopped short, as if something had surprised him. “Goddamn.” He quickly ate some more. Then, he shook his head like he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or furious. “You made this,” he pointed to his plate, his gaze still on Randa, “for him?” He made an incredulous gesture in Isaacs’ direction.

“Who else would I cook it for? Isaacs is my best friend.”

“I’m a lucky man.” Isaacs said and meant it.

Kahn slanted him an undoubtedly feral look. Then, he leaned over and grabbed the entire platter of pot roast.

Randa’s eyebrows climbed as he upended all the meat onto his own plate.