Free A Tale of Two Demon Slayers by Angie Fox

five feet and ran straight into my left leg.
    “Have you seen a cat? Medium build? Beady eyes? Smart mouth?”
    “I think Dimitri would have warned us if you had to worry about a cat,” I said, reaching for my dog as he danced out of my grip.
    Pirate tended to have an active imagination. Pair it with his ability to see ghosts, and well…Who knew what he’d been chasing?
    Dimitri scanned the corners of the entryway. “Actually, one of our guests…has a cat,” he said, with a reluctance that worried me. “I’m not sure if she brought it with her. Frankly, I thought she’d be gone by the time we arrived.”
    Pirate circled twice before sitting. “Ornery gal?” he asked, his tail thwomping the floor, “Likes to talk tough?”
    “Are we talking about the cat or the guest?” I asked.
    “We’ll find out soon enough,” Dimitri said. “Come with me.”
    We walked through the back hallway and into a dining room the size of the entire first floor of my condo back home. Arched ceilings and doorways gave it a majestic feel. A sturdy, highly glossed table stood in the middle of the room.
    The honey gold wood shone in the evening sunlightand maintained the aura of polished elegance, despite the take-out bags littering the far end.
    “Christolo extends his apologies,” Dimitri said. “While he held up admirably during the events of this afternoon, our dinner did not fare as well.”
    A long-faced Greek man unloaded the food.
    Next to him, a beautiful olive-skinned woman watched us enter the room. She wore a white pleated dress that was both stylish and traditional at the same time, like a modern version of the old goddesses.
    My griffin paused in the doorway, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the Papagalos Restaurant bags or the smell of braised lamb shanks and rosemary.
    The woman wore a wry expression as she lifted her wineglass to us in a silent toast before touching it to her lips.
    Dimitri stiffened. “Amara.”
    The tension between them was palpable, and I didn’t miss the way she tilted her head, exposing her long neck as she eased her wavy black hair from her shoulders. “Hello, Dimitri.” Her crisp Greek accent gave her words a heady feel. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.”
    She strolled toward us like a model on a catwalk, glass in hand. “You must be Lizzie,” she said, offering her hand.
    I took it, ignoring the way she pursed her lips.
    “See?” she said, turning to the man who unloaded the bags. “I can shake hands like an American. Heaven knows she can’t greet us like a griffin.”
    I forced myself to smile. “Want me to greet you like a demon slayer?” She was just asking for a switch star up the rear.
    “Charming as usual, Amara,” Dimitri said tightly.“Lizzie, I’d also like you to meet Amara’s brother, Talos.”
    Talos gave a quick nod, his eyes coolly assessing me.
    “They’ve been helping my sisters with their recovery,” Dimitri explained. “Speaking of those two—”
    “We stopped down to the cellar for an extra bottle of wine,” Dyonne said, breezing past us and plunking a bottle of red Mavrotragano onto the table.
    At least the food was good. Dyonne had ordered lamb shanks with orzo pasta and all of the fixings.
    I dug a fork through a wedge of fried haloumi cheese, wondering how long Amara would be staying and trying my darndest not to look at her. It was tough, considering Dimitri had positioned himself at the head of the table, I sat to his right and Amara had inserted herself to his left. Diana and Dyonne lined up on the other side of me, and Talos took the same position on the other side of the table, like opposing armies.
    “You going to stab her with a fork?” Diana whispered in my ear.
    “What?” I looked down and discovered I’d basically drawn, quartered and gutted my cheese.
    Amara, for her part, launched into yet another story of one of the baths she and Dimitri had taken together as children. “We’re both royal griffins,