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“So, it is you,” Aim says, glaring at Nephithar. “You fucking asshole.”

The red-eyed demon stands up and lifts his palms as if to say ‘here I am’. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m married now.”

Aim scoffs. “This isn’t about that. I’ve seen golems more interested in fucking than you were. But you played dead for over five thousand years without telling me. I thought we were friends.”

Jess sidles up to me. “Is everyone in Hell pansexual?” she murmurs.

“Pretty much,” I reply, just as quietly. I’m into the drama – I wish I had popcorn for this.

Lana ruins the moment, though. “Excuse you,” she says, pushing her way past Jess and me toward Mike.

“Lan!”

The two meet halfway and embrace, the top of the boy’s head barely reaching Lana’s nose.

“No wonder you never introduced me to your parents,” she grumbles into his hair. “They look younger than I do.”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you, but they wouldn’t let me,” Mike whines.

She holds him out at arms-length. “It’s okay. I guess you couldn’t have sent an owl with a letter inviting me to supernatural school.”

As Mike smiles his face goes from cute to handsome, the masculine version of his angelic mother, with his father’s lethal grin. He actually reminds me of Armaros a bit… maybe a bit too much.

Lana takes in the room, from our trio to Mike’s parents and finally Bau, her tail thumping against the ground, completely unperturbed by the number of people suddenly here.

“Um, Mike?” Her voice is tentative as she gazes at the softly smiling Syrin and the neutral Nephithar.

“Yeah?”

“How the frick are your eyes brown?”

Huh.That is a good question and I should have thought about it myself.

“Ah.” The boy flushes and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “They’re actually not. My eyes are really red like my dad’s – these are contacts.”

Lana gapes at her old best friend. “You’ve managed to hide that from me for forever!” she accuses. “How could I have missed it?”

“Well,” he drawls. “Your nose was hidden in some smutty book or another most of the time. You barely noticedanything.”

The ladies giggle at Mike’s words. Must be a girl thing.

“What about you?” I ask Nephithar. “Contacts aren’t your thing?”

The demon’s grin is so sharp, it could cut glass. “If my eyes bother the humans, they can look away.”

His son snorts. “We just tell people he has a rare condition. But we have to move every few years anyway or people start noticing how they don’t age.”

Lana must remember her manners because she finally stops staring at the two and extends her arm to introduce herself. “I’m Lana,” she says, shaking first the demon’s and then the angel’s hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Syriniana takes Lana’s hand in both of hers, beaming at her welcomingly. “We’ve heard so much about you, Lana,” she says, making our girl blush.

“Hopefully not the embarrassing parts,” she murmurs bashfully.

“Oh, no, I want to hear those the most,” Kevin pipes in from the doorway.

“Me too,” Naamah agrees, her grin almost as scary as Nephithar’s was.

“Three angels, three demons, and four halflings walk into a bar,” I say.