Basil leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Look, Fin. I understand what you’re going through. Truly, I do. But we have mortals depending on us, so I need you to angel up.”
There was a long silence, and then Griffin blinked at his Mentor. “Did … did you just say angel up?”
“I did,” Basil replied blandly.
“That’s awesome.” Griffin chuckled, and then sighed and put down his spoon. He leaned back and looked at Basil ruefully. “I’ve been a real pain, haven’t I?”
“To say the least. Though I won’t deny I acted any better the first time it happened to me.”
“You gonna tell me about her?”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Nope.”
“Fine. Be that way.” Griffin picked up his spoon and took another mouthful of soup, then wrapped one hand around the bowl, warming his dinner. “So how long are we on standby?”
“All evening.” Basil glanced out the kitchen window. “Things may get dicey with this storm.”
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