Cold Feet

"We just think it's gone a little far, Kiedran," said Father. He accepted a drink from the warty demon butler. The demon whisked the tray to Mother, who declined, and then to Kiedran, who plucked up a glass and drank with gusto.

"Nonsense," Kiedran laughed. "Demons are useful for so many things nobody's thought to try yet."

Father opened his mouth to answer, but a tiny sneeze distracted him. He looked down. A blue-skinned demon bobbed gently in the liquor, frost spreading out from its skin. It looked up and met Father's gaze.

"I hate my job," said the demon.