I glare at my brother, and the jerk responds with a taunting smirk, the glass of wine pressed against his lips. I'm about to retaliate by bringing up one of his shameful memories when I notice the look in his eyes, and the words die on my tongue.
Mirth. They're full of mirth. It's something I haven't seen in ages.
My lips pinch on their own. Whatever. It's just some embarrassing stories from the past. As far as I know, they won't kill me, though they do bruise my ego a bit, and Ellena's sparkling gaze scares me a little. I've got a hunch she's gonna plead with her father tomorrow morning to add a few more pink pieces to my wardrobe, just so her favorite outfits can match with mine. Up to now, she's been weirdly considerate and has refrained from dressing me up a certain way.
Now, I fear that reticence is gone… Dang it. Bro opened Pandora's box, and I'm the one who's going to suffer from it. Ugh. Why did he have to open his mouth? Fuck, siblings are the worst!
"Scott," Eve calls me, snapping me out my daze. I think the alcohol is already getting to my head. Perhaps I should slow down. "It's your turn to ask a question to someone."
She offers me a shit-eating grin, while the kids look at me expectantly. Pretending not to see their mother, I shift my attention back to the children, and when my gaze lands on Elois, the boy straightens his back, barely able to hide his smile. His eyes curve into crescent moons despite his best efforts. Well. That settles it. If I don't choose him, I'm afraid of the crying fit I'll have to handle later.
But… What am I supposed to ask? I wouldn't even know what to ask an adult, never mind a child! And I can't ask for his favorite color; Ellena has already told me!
Seconds stretch, and Elois starts to fidget.
Oh, to hell with it. In the end, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "What do you want to be in the future?"
Not like I'll still be alive to see him reach his goals, 'cause life is short for a human, and long for a demon, but I guess it'd be nice to know and allow myself to imagine what kind of man he'd turn into.
"What I want to be?" Elois blinks before frowning. The crease between his brows should give him a somewhat serious air, but in my eyes, it only makes him look cute. "I want to be like my mom, my father, and my dad! And Todd, too!"
He offers me a bright smile; my chest feels stuffy. He wants to be like me? Kid, you should aim for higher. I'm nothing.
My lips stretch into a stiff smile, and I keep quiet. Children tend to idolize the adults around them, don't they? Maybe I shouldn't break the illusion yet. He'll learn soon enough that his "dad" is nothing extraordinary. Just a weak man who couldn't save neither his mother nor his friend; a stupid man who took years to realize his brother and father have been hiding their pain and struggles behind a cold face.
Really, nothing noteworthy.
Jordan tightens his hold on my hand, drawing my attention to him. Like his son, he's smiling, but his smile is a tad sorrowful.
Sometimes, I wonder if he can read mind.
I clench my jaw and lower my eyes on the wine in my hand. That's why I avoid drinking. It's hard to keep the dark thoughts at bay when my mind is muddy.
***
The children are finally growing drowsy. They obviously don't want to go to bed, but they'll have to at some point. James, too, looks about to fall asleep while sitting. The three of them are dozing off, their little heads falling down every second or so. I glance at the clock. Shit. It's way past their bedtime. Jordan said his kids could go on without sleeping for days—well, that's utter bullshit. Children need their rest.
"Kids," Jordan coaxes. "It's time to sleep."
"No!" Ellena whines while Elois wipes off the drool on his chin. Jordan's stern gaze doesn't waver, neither does his smile. "Just one more question, please!"
It's Jonathan's turn to ask a question. Strangely enough, this one is wide awake for once. Anyway, I guess Ellena doesn't want to go to bed yet to hear what her big brother has to say, and the same thing goes for Elois. Their teary eyes are warning us that if we turn a deaf ear to their pleas and insist on tucking them, they're going to bawl their eyes out. So, Jordan wisely gives in.
"Lucy." Jonathan smiles coldly. "Here's my question for you: what's your species?"
I choke on my wine, and I look at the unbothered vampire in disbelief. That's incredibly rude of him. Even if I do understand that, in his position, he'd like to know what Lucy truly is, it's not something you should ask, especially not with that many people around. To start with, I'm pretty sure he's got a good inkling as to what she is, so why now…?
Alright, no, I know why. Considering how smashed Lucy is, it's actually quite a good call; it's the perfect occasion to snoop around. Angels of low ranking are weak to alcohol, making it easier to extract the information needed. It's still a cheap shot, though.
"Nuh-uh, I can't tell you that."
Somehow, she's retained her rationality enough to stutter a refusal and scoff at Jonathan, who reacts with a snort. Beside him, Ellena blinks her big round eyes, then glances back and forth between be and her big brother. Ah. I've got a bad—!
"Why don't you just ask Dad?" I suck in a breath. "He'd know! Dad, what's Lucy's species?"
Lucy frowns, and Bryan inhales so loudly I can hear him. There's a moment of stillness. It lasts barely a second, but it's too long to my taste. Still, Jordan and the drunk Eve are quick to react and hand a perch to their daughter so she can correct her blunder before it's too late.
"Sweetie." Eve smiles, while James, beside Ellena, straightens his back, suddenly wide awake. "It's not 'cause your dad always wins your guessing game that he can guess your auntie's species."
"He'd need to get incredibly lucky to get it on the first go," Jordan adds with a soft laugh.
"That's—!" Ellena stops herself mid-sentence and brings her hands to her mouth, visibly realizing what she'd done. Her cheeks flush red as she tries to go along with her parents' lie. "I'm sorry. I thought Dad's guesses were always right. When we play together, he's never wrong. So, hum, sorry, Dad!"
She mutters and stutters. Even so, she does her best. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Her bad acting might be enough to fool the dead-drunk angel, who's snuggling against Eve and on the blink of falling asleep, but that's definitely not enough to fool my brother.
I can feel his gaze boring into me.
Well. Fuck.