“What are you doing?” The Devil turned on them, eyes glaring in an unnatural way.

“Not much,” Blake’s calmness remained. “Just talking about how much I love my little sister,” he wrapped an arm around Angela and kissed the top of her head, “and this woman here,” and he kissed Winters full-on, careful to keep his repulsion completely inside.

“That is disgusting,” Lillith spit the word out.

“It is not working,” the Devil announced.

“Then why do you look like someone slapped you?” Angela asked. “I love you, Uncle Blake.” Raising her voice, she repeated, “I love you very much.”

“You call him ‘Uncle’ and he calls you ‘Sister’. Are you from some backwoods Southern town?”

“They’re terms of endearment,” Blake answered. “Your very favorite thing.”

“Blake, kiss me again,” Winters begged.

“Simon!” Angela shouted. “Simon, I love you!”

Blake looked up and saw the kid emerging. “Thank God,” he whispered. Then, remembering the mixed company, shouted, “Thank you, God! I love all that you’ve done!”