- - -
“Sugar,” Duke started, voice gravelly and low.
A tendil of longing skittered down her spine; she imagined hooded blue eyes and strong, welcoming arms. She’d lived like a gypsy for years while hunting her father and had started her business because it allowed her the luxury of travel, of never being tied to one place. Homesickness, not for the house or her apartment but for Duke, the only home she ever needed, made her throat tighten and her knees wobble.
- - -And we also get to see Viola offer up some wisdom... of sorts... to a demon in a similar situation
Orili remained silent. With a grunt, Viola studied the reticent Grimadore. The stony face and compressed lips didn’t give much away, but the combination of sorrow, anger and guilt swirling in his eyes was familiar. She saw it in the mirror whenever she thought of her father. Sympathy temporarily trumped dislike.
“You know him.”
Orili jerked like a puppet on a string. Encouraged by the reaction, Viola continued. “Not in the mortal enemy way, either. You know him. Looking at him right now hurts you. Not just because he’s been your oppressor but because on the outside he looks like the guy you knew but on the inside he’s a stranger. A monster.”
Orili nodded slowly. “You are truly wise, Lady Viola. He is my mother’s first son. We are half-brothers.”
Viola awkwardly patted his shoulder. “Family sucks.”