Demon's Game by Xenia Melzer

Author:Xenia Melzer [Melzer, Xenia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBT Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Published: 2021-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

“Enbesil yo! I should come to Beaconville and drag you back home on your ear!” Grann was furious and had no problem showing it. It was probably the reason she always seemed to be so well-adjusted. Negative feelings didn’t get a chance to fester. “It’s bad enough you’re gallivanting around the globe with your , but visiting a powerful mache espirityel without knowing if she’s friend or foe? Not to mention hopping off into another dimension just to worry your poor old gran into an early grave!”

As usual, Jon didn’t comment on the ‘poor, old gran’ or the fact there was no grave for Grann because she had been there, done that and left it all behind. He did ask about the mache espirityel, though.

“You know Waaseyaa?”

Grann huffed. “Of course I do. How many times do I have to tell you? The world of majik, it’s small when it comes to the real power. You’re lucky she isn’t an enemy.”

“She’s Barion’s friend,” Jon defended the maker of the most delicious pancakes he had ever tasted. He wouldn’t mention it to Grann because he was sure good food wasn’t a plausible reason to get himself in danger. He needn’t have bothered.

“You tasted her krep, didn’t you?” Grann gave him no chance to answer. “I swear that woman needs to stop enchanting everybody with her damn food!”

“The pancakes are magical?” Jon stared at Barion with wide eyes. His demon friend had obviously heard most of the conversation, thanks to his supernatural hearing, and was now shrugging. Not enough to be harmful, he was whispering.

“Of course they are, enbesil. All food is magic. I told you that!”

“I thought you meant it in a metaphorical way,” Jon said meekly. And he’d thought he’d gotten good at deciphering Grann’s words.

“If it’s cooked by people, then yes, but if it’s a magical person doing the cooking? Majik is transcendent, and it always diffuses. Why do you think family gatherings always center around food?”

Grann started mumbling some colorful curses in Creole. Some of the words Jon had never heard and tried to memorize so he could look them up later. Simply for scientific purposes, of course. He waited for her to end her rant, which took another five minutes, during which he scribbled the words he wanted to research on a piece of paper Barion had handed him upon request. Finally, Grann was back to talking directly to him.

“No more stupid trips, do you hear me, Jon? No visits to people of majik or to a dimansyon lanfe. I can’t protect you when you’re in one of those.”

The true worry in her voice kept Jon from saying something snappy about him being able to take care of himself.

“Thank you, Grann, for worrying about me. I love you.”

Another curse burned between his ears, then, “I love you, too, enbesil.” She ended the call.

“That was less of an explosion than I thought.” Barion was leaning back on what had become his side of the sofa. Jon pinched the bridge of his nose.

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