Succubus Revealed by Richelle Mead Read Free Book Online

brotherly company. Ian was wearing the jacket Seth had mentioned, a brown wool peacoat that fit him well enough to be tailored and had strategically placed patches meant to give it a vintage appearance. Ian completed the look with a carefully knotted striped scarf and fedora. He also had on glasses, which I’d seen no sign of at Seth’s.
    “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” I told him.
    He sighed. “They go with the scarf.”
    Seth was carrying two huge containers of white-frosted cupcakes that were liberally and sloppily dusted with green and red sparkles. I took one batch from him and walked inside with the brothers, where we signed in and were given directions to the classroom.
    “Looks like you were productive,” I said with a smile.
    “No thanks to Mom,” Seth replied fondly. “It took her forever to leave. She kept offering to help and double-check my work, make sure the oven was set and all that. It was a boxed mix. There wasn’t that much I could mess up.”
    Ian muttered something about preservatives and high fructose corn syrup.
    The classroom was pleasant, organized chaos. Other parents and family friends were there to help with the party, distributing food and running games. The twins ran up to the three of us with quick, fierce hugs before scurrying off to play with their friends. I didn’t see Morgan and McKenna outside of the family very often, so it was neat to watch them so active and outgoing with their peers. They charmed their friends as much as they charmed me, and it was clear the two girls were leaders of sorts. Tiny, adorable blond leaders. The knot I’d carried inside me since getting the HR memo began to soften as I allowed myself the small joy of observing them.
    Seth slipped an arm around me, following my gaze as we maintained our post near the food table. He nodded toward where Ian was trying to pitch his own cupcakes—organic, vegan, gluten-free creations from a local bakery—to some of the twins’ classmates. To be fair, the cupcakes were beautiful. They were vanilla, topped with elaborately swirled chocolate icing that was in turn adorned with perfect white frosting flowers. They made Seth’s cupcakes look like something the girls might have made, but I knew better than to be fooled. When you made cupcakes without most of the ingredients found in traditional baked goods, the truth came out in the taste. Pretty or not, Ian wasn’t doing so good a job moving them.
    “These are so much better for you than all this other junk food,” Ian was telling a wide-eyed boy named Kayden. Despite the fact we’d been inside the warm classroom for almost an hour, Ian was still completely clad in his scarf and wool coat ensemble. “They’re made with brown rice flour and garbanzo bean flour and sweetened with maple syrup—none of that processed white sugar crap.”
    Kayden’s eyes grew impossibly bigger. “Those have beans and rice in them?”
    Ian faltered. “Well, yes . . . but, no, I mean. It’s flour derived from those ingredients in a way that’s totally fair trade and nutritious. Plus, I picked a brown and white color scheme, not only to save you from artificial dyes but also to show respect for all holidays and tradition, rather than giving into the mainstream domination of the Judeo-Christian machine.”
    Without another word, Kayden grabbed a red-frosted snowman cookie from the snack table and wandered off.
    Ian gave us a long-suffering look. “I fear for today’s youth. At least we can take the leftovers back to Terry’s.”
    “We’d better,” said Seth. “Those cost me a small fortune.”
    “You mean they cost me a small fortune,” said Ian. “They’re my contribution.”
    “I paid for them!”
    “It was just a loan,” said Ian imperiously. “I’ll pay you back.”
    The party didn’t last too much longer—seven-year-olds didn’t need to slam drinks for hours like my friends did—but I still kept checking my phone whenever Seth wasn’t watching. I had