"I'll only introduce the ones that aren't fighters," he says. "At least to start. Cupids and soul-shepherds don't start fights. But I'll warn them."

He reaches up to cradle Lucifer's face gently between his hands, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. "So, I can't give you blowjobs under the table at parties? That'll make them less fun for me, I suppose, but it's a sacrifice I'm prepared to make."

His grin brightens. "You know, all we need to do in a big city like Chicago to make people comfortable with the gorgeous winged being in their midst is for me to carry a professional camera and tell them you're a model on an indie photo-shoot. They'll just assume the wings are clever costuming then, as long as you don't smack anyone with them."