“Glad you have some company,” he finally says. “Does Hopkins know?”
“Yes,” I lie to him. I’m getting better at it—I hope. “Of course, he knows.”
“I’m guessing you talked to him this morning then? Is he coming back soon?”
My eyes cut to the windows. “Yes,” I lie again. “He was very apologetic…”
The birds haven’t gone away, and their flock still minds the front door, creating all sorts of ruckus. They feast upon the last of the worms. Behind them, the streets are empty and Adrial is gone. Pulling the landline’s cord with me, I close the storefront’s curtains, sending dust plumes throughout the room. The drapes haven’t been disturbed since spring, and I hold back a cough as I cover my eyes and return to the counter, switching on a small desk lamp.
“When is he getting back? I want to speak with him.”
“Soon—and don’t you dare. I’m an adult. That’s embarrassing.”
“He shouldn’t have left you alone for so long without a good way to contact him.”
“Dad,” I warn. “I can use this as a reason for a raise.”
He hesitates and finally grumbles, “Do you really wantthisjob? Hopkins has a reputation for being a weirdo.”
“He’s not weird, just eccentric. Making more money here isn’t going to hurt me leaving one day,” I argue. “Everything is fine.” Even when we’re disagreeing, speaking to him lightens my mood. He’s my rock—he’s normalcy. He reminds me not everything has gone to hell and that some things stay the same. “I need to get back to work.”
“Call me again in a couple of hours. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.”
Hanging up, I look around. Peering at my hands once more, I confirm they’ve returned to normal. Tugging up my shirt, my brands appear like they had this morning. They’re cool to the touch, and the throbbing has dulled.
I pivot to Zuriel and curl my toes, scanning him from horn to claw.
“Well,” I tell him. “I’m here now. With you. Only it’ll be hours until you rise and I need something to do.” I take in his body, his features. I reach out to touch him but yank my hand back at the last second.
It’s different now, touching him, knowing he can feel it.
With a final shudder, I turn to face the museum and start my work by caring for Ginny, setting up her new litter box in the storage closet with a cat door already built into it. I station her new bed next to the front desk.
I clean up the dust in the front room, sweeping, swiping, and vacuuming until the space gleams. The mundane tasks soothe my mind, still reeling at the predicament I’m in. The light that erupted from me doesn’t return, which is a relief. If it was a one-time thing, I’m okay with that.
Glancing at Zuriel, my face flushes. My gaze flicks around the museum. Nothing about my life is simple right now.
I complete the rest of the housekeeping chores, focusing heavily on the chants and holy water because I can no longer tell what’s pretend and what’s necessary, only that some of the tasks warm my brands. Out of perverse hope, I sprinkle some of the holy water over my head and place an antique cross on the front counter.
I’m not superstitious.
I still slip a small vial of holy water into my pocket. Just in case.
I call Hopkins, and as expected it goes straight to voicemail. Annoyed, I leave a message. “I’ve had to make some decisions while you’ve been out, and I got us a cat. Her name is Ginny—well, Genevive—and she’s great.” I pause. “Something, uh, strange has been happening here, and I would appreciate it if you could call me back as soon as you can.”
I hang up.
My eyes immediately fall on Zuriel.
Even now, Adrial’s demonic form lingers, nagging at the periphery of my every thought. I may never sleep soundly again.
“Thanks for the brands, by the way. They may have saved my life.”
I stare at Zuriel, soaking him in. My gaze drops to his smooth groin, wondering where his cock vanished. It was big, that much I remember.
Big.I mouth the word, nostrils flaring as the world turns fuzzy. My body clenches like it’s been doing for days now.
