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Hazel frowned and glanced at Tallak, who clenched his hand into a fist.
He couldn’t punch him. The guy had just had a baby.
“Fuck you,” he growled instead.
“You’re welcome.” Rhun winked and stepped back, waving them inside.
Hazel walked ahead, whispering over her shoulder, “What’s that all about?”
“Him being a dipshit,” Tallak shot back.
“Hazel!” Merle called out from the living room.
His mate rushed forward, and he trailed behind, watching her as she hugged Merle on the couch, then gasped at the little bundle lying in a nest of cushions beside the red-haired witch. Cooing and other noises he’d never heard Hazel make bubbled up from her, and she suddenly turned into a dazzling image of a maternal female overflowing with adoration.
Fuck me.
When she picked up the tightly wrapped infant with such care, holding her in her arms, softly rocking, and gazing at the little girl with eyes shining with amazement, a smile of pure joy on her face, it kicked him right in the middle, somewhere straight into a half-buried desire he couldn’t yet voice.
He only noticed his mouth hung slightly open when Rhun closed it with an infuriating smirk and a knowing glint in his eyes.
“Don’t even,” Tallak snarled at him.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“Don’t have to, you wankstain.”
Rhun laughed, his shoulders shaking. “You’re so much fun.” Jerking his head toward the kitchen, he said, “Come on, let’s have a drink. There’s so much to celebrate.” The last he said with amusement drenching his words.
Maybe he would punch him yet.
As usual, Rhun got him a glass of whiskey and nothing for himself, given that bluotezzers didn’t consume anything but blood. It should have been weird having a drink while someone sat in front of him just watching, but somehow it wasn’t. It just felt like company.
“So,” Rhun said after a moment of comfortable silence.
“So,” Tallak echoed, setting his drink down.
“You did it, then.” The lack of teasing in his voice tipped Tallak off to the double meaning behind Rhun’s statement.
Tallak nodded. “Was a close call. If Hazel hadn’t found a last-minute solution, I wouldn’t be sitting here. Even if all of you had made it.”
And then he told his friend the details of that night, finishing with the fact the witches had finally switched allegiance.
Rhun’s eyes glittered as he looked at him. “So the old witch died in a blood magic ritual? Killed the way her granddaughter was murdering humans left and right? Excuse me, I have to properly commemorate that piece of information.” And then he laughed, long and hard and full of unrepentant schadenfreude.
Tallak grinned. “Fitting end, isn’t it?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Rhun eyed him for a moment, then quietly asked, “So, you and Hazel are good?”
Tallak nodded. Leaning back in his chair, he met Rhun’s gaze, made sure the other demon saw the sincerity in his own. “Thank you.”
Rhun gasped and slapped a hand on his chest, his eyes growing wide. “Help,” he croaked and started sliding off his chair. “Help, I’m dying of shock!”
“You fucking shitshovel,” Tallak said with a laugh, picking up the flyswatter from the table and smacking Rhun over the head with it.
Chuckling, Rhun snatched the flyswatter and hit him right back.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Tallak said with a jerk of his head in the direction of the living room. Unbelievably, those cooing noises were still going on in there.
