This time, Cass feels that Ez’s withering look is slightly more appropriate. “I’m quite sure thatyouknow some English lullabies, Cassius.”
“But your singing voice is objectively better than mine,” Cass says, hastily adjusting December in his arms when she tries to wriggle away from him. “When’s Obie getting here? He’ll know what to do, right?”
“He’d better,” Ez grumbles. “He’s, like, a million years old.”
“He’s not amillionyears old, Esmeralda.”
“How would you know? He barely talks about anything before 1812!”
Reluctantly, Cass concedes the point. Cass himself was dragged from Tamaros to Earth just before the American Revolution and Ez was summoned a few decades later during the Haitian Revolution, but Obie always tactically avoids the question of when he arrived in this dimension. At the very least, they know that he’s older than Maggie Khan, and considering that Maggie is over three thousand years old?—
Hypothetically, Obiecouldbe a million years old. Hell, for all Cass knows, he could’ve been summoned to Earth right after Nostringvadha himself was banished here.
Right on cue, the purple-gold of a rift swirls to life in the middle of Cass’s living room. He almost sobs with relief when Obie steps out, looking thoroughly nonplussed. “What’s, uh,” Obie says. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“She won’t stop crying,” Cass informs him resignedly.
“I can see that,” Obie says, and he reaches out. “Hand her over. I’ll take it from here.”
Feeling strangely reluctant, Cass passes her to Obie. “Don’t drop her.”
Obie looks duly unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” he says, and he expertly situates December on his hip, grabbing one of her little hands and squeezing. “Hi there, little one. What’syourname?”
To Cass’s utter indignation, December immediately turns her big puppy dog eyes on Obie, sniffling. “Desi.”
Andthat’sone of the few coherent answers they’ve gotten out of this demon toddler since they left Jackson’s room. Cass immediately pounces. “Desi?” he repeats, waving his hand to get her attention. “Your name is Desi?”
Her lower lip trembles threateningly. “Uh-huh. JJ calls me ‘Desi.’ I like it. When are we gonna go back for JJ?”
“When are we gonna—?” Ez turns to Cass, thunderstruck. “Did you tell her you were going to bring the lackeywithyou?”
“Absolutely not,” Cass argues. “I just?—”
And then, abruptly, Cass remembers how scared Desi was when he first sauntered into Jackson’s room. He remembers quickly going into “talk down the frightened animal” mode, sort of half-listening as she rambled and making approving noises whenever they were warranted, until she let him pick her up. He hastily plays back the conversation in his head, searching for the relevant information?—
“Ah,” he says. “So maybe that’s not an ‘absolutely’ not. Maybe it’s more like a ‘probably’ not.”
Ez and Obie give him matching aghast looks.
“It was an ‘I didn’t quite realize what I was agreeing to’ not,” Cass admits, and he throws up his hands in defeat. “Look, it was a stressful situation! I had to move quickly! What else was I supposed to do?”
“I want JJ,” the demon toddler sniffles, and then, louder:“I want JJ!”
All of the lights in Cass’s house blow out at the same time. The sudden darkness makes Desi squeak and cry even harder, and Cass blinks at her, surprised.Powerfuldemon toddler, apparently. It makes sense—neophyte demons tend to have higher soul energy—but he didn’t quite consider the ramifications of bringing a small nuke into his house until now.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Ez says helplessly, repairing the lights with a flick of her wrist. “It’s okay, see? The lights are back on now, and everything is—” She looks despairingly at Cass and Obie. “Okay, so everything isnotfine. Should we just bring her to the Chain? Their Education Department helps neophyte demons assimilate, right?”
Cass scowls. There’s a reason why humans and demons alike call Redwater’s branch of the Chain “the bureaucrats on the highway,” and it’snotbecause they’re known for being efficient—or compassionate. “No way. They’re already overloaded with new cases from all the summonings recently, and I don’t think ‘comforting crying children’ is part of their job description.”
“What, like it’s part ofours?”
Obie looks infuriatingly unperturbed. “She’ll stop crying eventually,” he says, rocking her gently back and forth. “Toddlers have a lot of emotions packed into their tiny bodies. She just needs to get it out of her system.”
“Not for nothing, Obie,” Ez says, “but your babysitting experiences lie strictly in the realm ofhumantoddlers. Human toddlers need to stop crying to eat and sleep and, like, breathe. Demon toddlers don’t.”
Obie pauses his rocking. “You bring up a valid point,” he says, and his eyes cut to Cass. “Did something traumatic happen to her at the Sanctum?”
“I don’t—” Cass scrapes a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I don’tthinkso? I mean, I found her in the lackey’s bedroom, not the prison. She was sitting at his desk with a carton of apple juice and a picture book from the library. It was almost like?—”
