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When I made a few snarky comments about not being able to afford to replace the beautiful flowers, Henry informed me the blooms were enchanted to look beautiful until someone lifted them free of the vase. He assured me they only required replacing every three months or so.

Honestly? I’d break my own rule about using magick for myself to keep from breaking the bank to replace those flowers every week. But I knew enough to keep my opinions about the uselessness of fresh flowers to myself.

In a few short days, I’d learned Henry ran the place like a general. I’d also discovered that Gale defined the standards Henry gleefully enforced. The house still didn’t feel like a home to me, but its current five-star hotel look suited it well.

Instead of awing visitors with its vast emptiness, the house now would impress anyone who entered. I’d certainly been impressed when I’d walked through the door.

But the house was grand and I was not. I did not look like its owner.

The nicer the house looked—the more like a visitor I felt. Henry and Gale fit the space much better than I did.

Rather than head to my room and meet them later, I went directly to the library to wait. Since Dylan and I last sat here, the library had acquired the soothing smell of lemon oil, lots of books on the shelves, and a plethora of tasteful decorations artfully placed for maximum ambiance.

A masculine desk that would have fit Rasmus or Conn in demon form was placed off to one side of the room near a window now draped with several layers of textured fabrics. I got the feeling the desk was for show and not intended for daily use. No energy had been left on it yet, which meant it was probably new.

The room contained two matching leather couches exactly like the ones in the foyer. The library couches faced each other with a substantial wooden coffee table separating them. The furniture created the same kind of opulence I’d seen in Zara’s penthouse suite. It was nothing I would have chosen on my own, yet it seemed completely appropriate for the space.

Two very comfortable-looking armchairs with small side tables next to them flanked the fireplace. I found the chairs appealing and could easily imagine myself sitting by a crackling fire while sipping a glass of Jamieson’s. When I sat down to test out one of the chairs, it instantly and discreetly reduced its size until my feet touched the floor.

I stared at Henry as he entered the room. “How did ya spell the chair to resize itself when I sat in it? I didn’t know demons had such magick. This is a miracle.”

“I know a witch,” Henry said.

What I heard was a New Yorker saying, “I know a guy.” He glared at me a little when I laughed, but I couldn’t help myself. As long as Henry had been alive, I bet he knew a lot of useful people.

“Ya amaze me, Henry. I don’t know any witch that could do this.Icertainly couldn’t do this.”

“Larissa specializes in wood. She’s a Black Forest witch from Germany. Her spell works specifically on wood, even if it’s been made into furniture. It will do almost anything she asks of it.”

I rubbed my hands over the arms of the chair. “I think your wood witch is worth every penny ya paid her.”

“I never pay Larissa. We trade favors instead. But I’d rather not divulge my arrangement with her.”

I held up my hand. “Then I’ll just thank ya for being thoughtful and let things be.”

Henry rewarded me with a smile. When he went to one of the couches to sit, I reluctantly rose from the chair and went to sit on the opposite couch. Both were the kind of modern furniture that seemed to fit everyone whatever size they were. I wanted to ask if the couch was magickal as well but didn’t want to risk the new peace between Henry and me.

I looked up when Gale sashayed through the door with a tray loaded with tea and treats. That woman’s walk in those heels she favored issued a siren call I imagined few men ignored. She smiled, set the tea tray on the coffee table, and poured tea for all of us.

“How do you take your tea, Aran?”

The demoness had sent tea service by someone working for her every other time I’d requested it. Today she seemed determined to play hostess. I had no problem with that. “I drink mine plain most of the time, but I have a headache today. A little honey would be appreciated.”

Gale added a generous helping of honey before handing me my drink. I noticed right away that she hadn’t served me with a dainty porcelain cup that would need constant refilling. She gave me a mug like most people would use for coffee.

To keep myself from asking about her teacup decisions, I thanked Gale and leaned back a bit in my seat. But as usual, my mouth and my brain warred over what my tongue wanted to say. Out came the truth of what I was feeling. “The house looks amazing.”

Henry lifted an eyebrow. “I can tell that it doesn’t feel like a home to you.”

I stopped sipping to stare at him over my mug of tea. “Are ya reading my mind, Henry?”

He breathed in quickly and released it slowly. “I’m trying not to, Aran, but you think quite loudly.”

I lowered my mug and giggled. “Rasmus and Conn have mentioned that as well. Do ya know someone who could teach me how not to think so loud?”

“I think I know a guy,” Henry said.

I pushed down my urge to giggle again. His lord-of-the-manner tone had me wanting to laugh harder.