“Back in the old country…” he started, mimicking something his mother would say, “I can’t think of any reason why she’d want to get rid of me, I’m a saint.” He held his hands in a praying gesture, a wicked smile still gracing his lips. For the briefest moment, it wasn’t him. His eyes had gone black. The demon thought itself to be hilarious with such a comment. His tongue burned with the mention of a saint, such a blatant and delicious lie.
Dominik gave no indication that he even said it, continuing with his earlier story, “I don’t know. My mom. It’s tradition? I never asked.” He never cared to, “The girl disappeared. I probably would’ve run off too if I had to marry me.”
"I can't convince you to bring it down here, darling?" He asked, mostly out of respect for Anthony, but for Sera as well. He leaned against the mantle with a tilt of his head.