He tousled her hair again and crossed to the fridge, leaning into the space with one hand on the open door while he gazed without enthusiasm on the bounty inside. He wasn't in the mood for a sandwich and hadn't the enthusiasm to cook. He needed something. He could feel hunger gnawing at the edges of his stomach, a very real danger for a mage where the power to initiate spells came from his own body. If he didn't eat enough his body mass would be consumed by the spells he cast. Even a simple stirring cantrip could bun through several hundred calories. Far more than the physical process of stirring with a spoon.
With a sigh and a sly glance at Lucy, he clicked his fingers for Devious. “I'm allowed to,” he said by way of apology. “I'm already damned.”
“Yes Master? What menial task would you like me to perform today? Make the tea? Sweep under the settee? Bite your toenails for you?”
“I'd like some breakfast.” Harold frowned and pointed at something attached to the imp's filthy vest. “What's that? It looks like a medal.”
“It's supposed to.” Devious craned his neck to look at it. “It represents the achievement of master scavenger. Your boy gave it to me. The golem.”
“It looks like three resistors twisted together and hung from a piece of bus ribbon.”
“And so it is.” Devious grinned, his first set of teeth looking yellow under the light of Fredericks TV. Yellow was an improvement. “You wanted breakfast?”