“Is it really lying if you don’t know and got no way of finding out?”
“Well…” Sariel frowned, rinsing off the dishes to load into the dishwasher. “Perhaps.”
“Yeah! I’m sure we could look through all them books you have and figure out which one is good for you, yeah?” Seymour nudged Sariel’s arm. “For the record, you really do have some solid Cancer energy.”
Sariel smiled.
A tiny one, but still.
Seymour glanced at the oven. “You want me to go on and put the cookies in there?”
“Yes. Please.” Sariel nodded. “I will be done with the dishes in a moment.”
Seymour grabbed the tray of cookies and opened up the oven. He slid the tray in, shut the door, and then asked, “Timer?”
“Nine minutes, please.”
“Beep boop boop,” Seymour muttered to himself as he pushed the buttons. He didn’t know why, but he’d always liked making his own sound effects for electronics. It probably had something to do with a passing obsession with robots as a child.
Which reminded him…
“Mr. Talos.” Seymour turned back to Sariel.
“Yes?” Sariel had just closed the dishwasher.
“What the fuck was he? Was he a robot? Still kinda felt bad watchin’ him, you know, get fuckin’ murdered.”
“No, he is not a robot. He is also not dead.”
“What?” Seymour scoffed. “I saw him get his head ripped off by that fuckin’—”
“That fucking what?” a cool voice cut in.
Seymour whirled around to find a man standing at the entrance of the kitchen.
He was tall, athletic, and wearing a black-and-gray pinstripe suit. His eyes were like ice, his gaze hard, and his salt-and-pepper hair was buzzed short. His skin was fair, his featuressharp, and though he was attractive, he gave Seymour the immediate impression that he would snap Seymour’s neck just as easily as look at him.
Just like Talos…
“Mr. Heiss.” Seymour made a face. “What happened to the horns and stuff? Almost didn’t recognize you. Was really lovin’ that whole Satan vibe.”
“Adorable.” Mr. Heiss snapped his fingers, his tone cold and detached. “Come. Sit. We have much to talk about.”
“And if I don’t wanna?” Seymour challenged.
Sariel placed a gentle hand on Seymour’s shoulder.
“Seymour Madison.” Mr. Heiss walked toward the living room, ignoring Seymour’s question and waving for him to follow. “I am going to offer you a deal.”
“No, I’m not listenin’ to shit until you—hey!” Seymour gasped as something dragged him forward. It was like a giant invisible hand had seized him around his middle. “Fuckin’ let go of me!”
“I will try to put this into small words so you understand.” Mr. Heiss sat right in the middle of the couch, snapping his fingers again. A glass of amber colored liquid appeared in his hand. “Being able to see the spirits of the Reliquary is a rare and valuable gift. My brothers have been searching for someone with such a gift.”
“Good for them!” Seymour squirmed, as he was now forced to stand in front of Mr. Heiss. “Why don’t you go snatch that Neil guy, huh? He can see ’em too!”
“Ah, yes, but he is mated to Lou, who is also one of my brothers.” Mr. Heiss sipped his drink. “Neil cannot be touched, so they have been watching and waiting for another opportunity to present itself.”
Seymour snorted. “They’ve just been spyin’ on him?”
