“Well, actually, yes. It's his job to provide for us. That's why I employ him.”
“What does 'employ' mean?”
“It means paying someone to do work for you.” Harold slipped his legs from the warmth of the duvet and stood, lifting Lucy and tucking her onto his spiderman pyjamad hip. He wouldn't have been able to do that a few years ago. He'd been overweight and out of shape before meeting Jasfoup. Now he was as lean as a whippet and as strong as... well... as strong as an averagely strong person who could channel vampiric strength for short bursts of time.
“But you don't pay Devious.”
“I do. I did, anyway. I paid him in advance for a lifetime of service.”
“That must have cost a lot of money. How long is a lifetime?”
“Um... I don't know, love. Nobody knows that. Until one of you dies, I suppose.”