The Lion, the Witch, and the Werewolf

never knew when I'd be away from home for awhile. A cat doesn't forget that kind of relationship. Nick started purring but before he could settle in against Tristan, a werewolf ruined the mood.
“Tristan!” Trevor exclaimed as he came into the suite. “Damn, dude, it's been forever.” Trevor hugged him. “How are you? Where's Jax?”
Tristan teared up, and I shook my head at Trevor vigorously. Nick gave Trevor an affronted look as well and strode off with his tail lifted indignantly.
“Oh, sugar cookies,” Trevor whispered. “I'm so sorry.”
“Did you just say; oh, sugar cookies?” Tristan sniffed and blinked at Trevor.
“We're trying to keep the language clean because of little ears.” Trevor nodded his head toward Kirill and Lesya who were just coming down the set of tower stairs on the left side of the room.
“Who's that?” Lesya asked as she pointed at Tristan imperiously.
“Zat is your Uncle Tristan,” Kirill said with a smile. “Hello, Tristan. It's good to see you.”
“You too, Kirill.” Tristan went to hug Kirill and then held his hand out to my daughter. “And judging by your pretty face, you must be Lesya.”
“I am!” Lesya cried and launched herself at Tristan.
Tristan managed to catch her and hugged her back, his face shifting instantly away from sadness. “It's very nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Lesya said. “I learned to hunt today.”
“Did you?” Tristan took Lesya to our dining table and sat down with her on his lap. “How old are you? I thought you were born last year but that can't be. You're a little lady.”
“I'll be two in June,” she said proudly.
Tristan looked up at me in surprise.
“It's the lion in her,” I explained. “It accelerates growth. It should stop soon.”
“Wow,” Tryst whispered. “The Twins must be big too then.”
“They're about to turn four, but they look closer to nine,” I confirmed. “That seemed to be the stopping point for them. With lions, we think it will be around five or seven; that's what Zariel stopped at.”
“Five to seven?”
“Well, it's hard to tell.” I shrugged. “No precedents. Zariel could be tall or small for her age. We just don't know.”
“Wow; the growing patterns of supernatural children,” Tristan murmured.
“I'm sorry I haven't come down to Earth to spend time with you, Tryst,” I said softly.
“It's okay, V; I understand. You got a lot going on.” Tryst looked pointedly at Lesya.
“It was nice to meet you,” Lesya said as she slid off Tristan's lap. Her long, ebony curls bounced around her butt and her deep-sea eyes, so like her father's, blinked up at Tryst. “But now, I've got to go play with my friend Zariel.”
“Okay.” Tryst nodded. “Have fun.”
“Thank you, I will. She has a tea set.” Lesya gave me a pointed look.
“Lesya, so help me Gods, I will blister your butt if you mention that tea set again,” I growled at her.
“I'm just telling Uncle Tristan why I'll have fun.” She gave me a look that was all me.
“Come on, Kotyonok,” Kirill said as he scooped her up and laughed. “I'd best get you to Zariel's before your mama spanks you for acting too much like her.”
“Hey!” I scowled at Kirill.
Kirill paused to kiss my cheek on his way past, and I stopped scowling.
“I'll be back in a few minutes,” Kirill promised before taking our daughter downstairs to Sam and Fallon's suite to play with their daughter, Zariel.
“You want some coffee, Tryst?” Trevor asked. “Or some vodka? Or perhaps coffee and vodka? I think we even have Baileys; that would probably go better in coffee.”
“We've been drinking wine,” I said as I went to look in the cabinets for a bottle. “Aha!” I held a bottle of white aloft triumphantly. And then I grabbed one of red. “Hey, look, Tryst; we got red, we got white,” I said it in a thick, deep, pidgin accent. Pidgin being the local dialect of a mishmash of languages in Hawaii.
Tristan laughed his ass off as I put the bottles on the table and went hunting for a corkscrew.
“Do I even want to know?” Re asked as he came downstairs from his tower room.
Tristan's jaw dropped. He'd met Re before—at my first wedding—but Re has that effect on people no matter how often they see him. Today, in particular, the Sun God looked exceptionally hot; and yes, I meant that to be a pun. Re had on a pair of worn jeans and a Fisherman's sweater he'd bought on our honeymoon in Ireland. His deep-brown hair was getting longer; curling at his broad shoulders and glinting with blond highlights in the afternoon sunlight while his gold-dusted skin had a softer sheen to it that begged to be stroked. His eyes, an even brighter gold than his skin, seemed to glow and his sensual lips spread lazily into a smile when he set that golden stare on me.
“Tristan, it's good to see you again,” Re said as he sauntered over to the table and sat next to my friend.
“Um, yeah, you too,” Tristan said and then cleared his throat.
“And that was a rhetorical question,” Re said. “I do want to know.”
Tristan blinked at him.
“About the red and the white,” Re prompted.
“Oh, that's Vervain's story to tell,” Tristan said. “It's far too detailed for me to get it right.”
I pulled out the cork on the bottle of red—the white went into the fridge for later—and started pouring wine for all of us. The men took their glasses as they were filled and then I took a seat.
“It's a long story about my cousin's graduation party,” I said. “You don't want to hear it.”
“I think I do,” Re said and then shared a look with Trevor. “I think we both do.”
“Oh, go on, V; it's hilarious,” Tristan prompted.
“It's drawn-out and not nearly as funny as it was to experience it, but all right; you asked for it,” I said. “My Aunt went all out for her daughter's graduation party and rented out the Honolulu Aquarium.”
“You can rent out an aquarium?” Trevor asked.
“Honey-Eyes, you can rent