“You’re a demon.” Now that I really looked at him, I could see the faintest outline of haze around his body, like the lines were softer where his flesh met his clothes. “Are you wearing a glamour?”
He turned back to me, his eyes flaring and a little look of wonder coming onto his face. “You’re the Hunter.”
I think I was happier when he thought I was a hooker. Hookers make people happy. “I’m not a hunter. I don’t do that.”
The older man’s smile was sly. “That isn’t what I meant, miss. Hunter is what you are not what you do. I apologize sincerely for mistaking you for less. I am Syl. It is my honor to welcome you into my master’s home. If you do not mind, I will dispense with the glamour. I prefer my own skin, though if it offends you I will, of course, suffer through.”
His face was sour, as though he expected me to choose whichever option caused him the most discomfort. I shrugged and opened the bottle of water. I was glad we weren’t going to talk about my father’s profession. “Do what you like. It won’t bother me.”
“And a kind mistress at that,” the demon purred and the old man was gone, replaced by a red-skinned demon with tiny horns. The dimensions of the demon didn’t change. He was still shorter than me and his clothes were exactly the same except for the shoes. Goat-like feet poked out from his trousers.
“See that’s freaky.” I took a long drink.
A single shoulder came up in a gesture that told me he’d heard it all before. “It is normal where I come from. Your pale skin seems a little…freaky to me.”
“I can live with that,” I said, slowly digesting the fact that my almost lover had a demonic housekeeper. “So you work for Gray?”
“I do, indeed.” He went about putting the kitchen to rights, gathering dishes and wiping down countertops. He poured a glass of orange juice and set it in front of me. “I have been Master Gray’s familiar since his birth. I was a gift from his father. Here, drink this. It’s freshly squeezed. It has to be better than bland water. Or would you prefer coffee? I can make anything you like.”
I took the drink because I wanted to get back to the topic at hand.
“His familiar? Like a witch’s familiar?” I asked, confused by the terminology. I ignored the fact that he’d been given a person…bipedal humanoid as a gift for his birthday. My father had been concerned with werewolves. I knew next to nothing about demons.
The orange juice was sweet, though it had the slightest hint of peppermint. Interesting. I took another drink, the juice cool on my tongue.
“In a sense.” Syl took off his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves with practiced grace, further exposing inches of red skin. “I could be the focal point for his talents if only he could be persuaded to use them. He prefers to pretend they do not exist, so they flash on him at the oddest times.”
I slid onto the barstool and watched the little demon toil. He seemed perfectly comfortable talking to me now that he had ascertained I wasn’t a working girl. He was efficient and quick, and within minutes I couldn’t tell that Gray had cooked breakfast at all. “Are you talking about his prophecy powers?”
His red eyes widened and a big grin came across his face, showing off his small, curved fangs. “He has already told you of his gifts? I thought he would play it more coyly. This is exciting. And you accept his parentage? Many would not.”
I didn’t like it. It was creepy to think that Gray had a father working his mojo on the Hell plane, but then I wasn’t exactly blessed in the fatherhood department. I couldn’t expect Gray to overlook a crappy dad on my side if I wasn’t willing to do the same for him. “We don’t get to pick our parents.”
“No, we do not,” Syl agreed. “I suspect my master would have selected a different sire had he been given the choice. He rarely speaks with his father. The master really only acknowledges the Hell Lord when he…forces the issue.”
“I probably don’t want to know how a Hell Lord forces the issue.” Jamie had said something about Gray being at war with his father.
Syl shook his head sharply. “No, miss, you do not. It would be easier on my master if he simply took the call in the first place. He is a stubborn boy. Perhaps he is coming around though. We all learn in the end.”
“What are you doing here, Syl?” Gray’s harsh question broke the quiet little repartee Syl and I had established. Gray walked in from the den and he’d changed into jeans and a black T-shirt. His eyes were on Syl, his whole face tense. “I told you to stay away today. I called you last night.”