What does destroying one demon, in one small town, have to do with any of it? What did it solve? There’s always going to be death and destruction. There will always be demons.
Hopkins takes the back of the wheelchair and rolls me out of my room and toward the elevators. The rehab staff wave and say goodbye. They’ve tried to help me, but I haven’t exactly enjoyed my time here and didn’t have the energy to fake it. I offer only half-hearted goodbyes, knowing they’re as relieved about my departure as I am.
While Hopkins and I wait for the elevator, he taps his foot and I examine my hands. They’ve become pale and boney, the knuckles protruding from my skin. They no longer look like my hands.
Luckily, Hopkins is the silent type, not prone to chitchat in the after hours when he isn’t with a customer—maybe that’s why I liked working for him.
He breaks the silence first. “I understand if you have no intention of returning to the museum.”
“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it,” I say flatly.
“Very reasonable, under the circumstances.”
The elevator dings its arrival, and he wheels me in.
“However, I do hope you’ll consider staying on. As you now know, my museum requires a special sort of personnel. You were already quite talented when I hired you between your qualifications, instincts you weren’t even aware of, and of course your history with this town. Now that you’re fully trained, it would be a shame to lose you.”
“Fully trained?”I bite out with anger. “I could have died! I feel like part of mehas.”
“Except you didn’t. You survived. You’re clever, determined, and quite resourceful. I respect that. It’s not every day a person is subjected to Hell and returns intact if they return at all. Even those who survive demonic encounters, never quite come back whole. They might be…broken.”
Broken…A word Zuriel used so often.
Is that what I am? Intact but not whole.
“You could have told me, warned me,” I whisper. “I could’ve used your help.”
“Had I known Adrial would possess you, I never would have left.”
The elevator doors open, and once again we’re quiet as he wheels me out of the building and toward the empty pick-up zone. He locks the wheelchair in place next to a bench and settles beside me.
“Listen,” he says. “You never need to set foot inside the museum again, that’s fine. But first, please hear me out.”
I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to look at him. “I’m listening.”
“Now that you understand what the museum really is about, the job changes. From here on, everything will be different. Yes, we’ll remain open to the public, but beyond maintaining the front, there’s no more nonsense. I’ll tell you directly what is what. I’ll start teaching you what I know.”
My stomach twists. Life was easier when I knew less. I wonder, not for the first time, if there is a way to forget. Except I can’t forget… I’m curious, and my curiosity always wins out.
Hopkins’ world is Zuriel’s world. I can’t leave it behind.
“Why didn’t you help me?” I ask.
Hopkins sighs, leaning back. “I wanted to. I did. However, my role is… I’m a librarian of things. My duty is to the museum, and to accomplish that, I’ve taken a vow to never take sides. My collection is a place to contain, preserve, as well as protect relics. The museum is a sanctuary for artifacts from countless ages, species, and worlds from those who would abuse them. I cannot do this job, amassing such power, if I do not remain neutral. This vow of neutrality empowers the wards, deterring those who wish me and my museum harm. If I helped you, I would be taking a side. But I could hire you and observe which relics would respond to you.
“The world is a frightening place, Summer. You know that better than most. And honestly, it’s only getting worse. There are few like me left. I do what I can, but I’m only human. And I’m getting old.”
Old.He’s gray and timeless, but he’s too spry to seem elderly. “Uh, how old are we talking?” I ask.
“Old enough to start training an apprentice who can replace me. The collection must be cared for.”
Does he want me to become like him?
I side-eye him. “Why should I trust you?”
“Oh, you shouldn’t, not completely.”
I purse my lips. “You promised real answers.”
