“If I ever find myself in the position of needing to hide Caldwell’s body, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“How are you getting on out there, Quincey girl?” my grandmother said, looking up from where she was doing her sudoku.
I chuckled, wiggling my fingers at her. “Couldn’t you tell by my grubby paws? I’m pretty much done.”
“Done already?!” My grandfather looked over at me incredulously. “What time did you get here?”
The cogs in my brain whirred into action, spinning with ungodly speed as I tried to find a justifiable reason for turning up to this house before five am in nothing more than my pyjamas and fluffy slippers. But I couldn’t think of anything. My brain ran away with itself, failing to come up with a single excuse that sounded reasonable. In all the realm of possibilities, including ‘because I wanted to,’nothing quite seemed to make sense.
Maura cut in as I stuttered through the beginning of asentence. “I called her earlier this morning and offered up some breakfast for her services. I know what it’s like to be a broke college student living off beer and Twinkies.”
“What kind of college student were you?” I laughed, looking at my grandmother with a grateful look and mouthingthank youwhen my grandfather finally looked away. “Was there anything else you needed help with?”
“No, we are actually about to head over to Chesterwood. We can probably leave early now. We are staying at one of the hotels closer to the hospital because we are scheduled for an earlier appointment.” I looked between the two of them before offering up a curt nod in response.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.I was hoping for this to keep me occupied all day. Maybe long enough for the emotional attachment that tied me to my belongings to fade away. There were few things I was truly sentimental about. The photograph of my grandparents, my Blundstone’s, a box of old cinema stubs, gig tickets, and bus receipts from all the things Isaac, Esme, and I had gotten up to growing up. We wanted to use them, and all the other bits we collected from a road trip we were planning to create a memory board. And then there was knitted blanket and although he wasn’t mine, I really did love that chonky little cat that came and went as he pleased….
Mortimer…
Oh my god, my fucking cat. He’s going to eat my fucking cat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Iknew Mortimer wasn’t my cat, but that didn’t stop the feeling of guilt from coiling around my neck like a noose. Even theCowardly Liongot his shit together in the end, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I’d been sitting in the parking space just in front of my building for what felt like hours. I hadn’t chosen to put the radio on, but it had just started playing for some reason. The blaring music had been a momentary reprieve from my anxious thoughts, but when Lesley Gore began to play through the speakers, I couldn’t help but feel like the universe was mocking me a little bit.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s my life and I’ll cry if I want to,” I muttered through gritted teeth, knuckles still white from where they gripped the steering wheel. I tried to ignore the lingering pain from the incision in my hand and the fact that I knew it wouldn’t scar. In hindsight, that probably hadn’t even crossed Thallor’s mind, so there was no point reading into it. With five or six deep breaths and leaning into all my resolve, one that saw both Mortimer and Maura come away from this whole thing, I stepped out of the car.
What was usually a three-minute walk from my car to my front door took over ten minutes. Every step up the stairs felt like I was bringing myself closer to sudden doom. That, in itself, was a weird feeling. I stopped outside my apartment and looked at the bits of chipped paint. I hadn’t ever really noticed them before, but now, standing here on this side of the door, I couldn’t bring myself to move until I counted every single one. Thirty-seven chips in total. Not that my landlord would fix them. Or anything else for that matter. I took a deep breath, trying to release some of the tension in my shoulders and let my head drop.
And found myself scowling almost immediately.
My ‘Enter If You Dare’doormat came into view. It was covered in moons and stars and potion vials. I’d bought the witchy doormat off Etsy because I wanted something that fit my overall aesthetic. I didn’t want something that simply said ‘Welcome’because, for the most part, people were absolutely not welcome in my home. And that sentiment stretched to demons, too. Not that it mattered anymore.
I pushed the key into the door slowly. It was funny that everything often sounded the loudest when you were trying to make the least amount of noise possible. My car key and the old motel-key keychain my grandfather had gotten made for his company, one that said ‘Our Business is Dead Serious,’all jangled and knocked against the door. The door itself creaked when I pushed it open–the sound considerably groanier than it had been in weeks. Maybe it was the cold weather or just a coincidence, but that didn’t stop me mentally cursing at the universe for its never-ending ability to find humour in my misery.
Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.
I repeated the same thing over and over in my head as if he might hear me. I let the door swing open but made no move to step into the space. Whoever designed this room, however,hadn’t exactly thought the layout through, as the door opened out to the right, leaving my very small kitchen visible and the rest of the living space on the other side shielded by the door.
Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.
I took a deep breath and stepped into the space. Peeking my head around the door to?—
“Mort?!” I hissed, in a yelled whisper, as I took in the sight in front of me. This…man? Male? Demon? Whatever the fuck he was had his back to me,mycat lazily draped over his shoulder as he continued to prune the plants in my apartment. I stared at the back of him as he cut at bits of my monstera that had browned and curled over. He was back in his more human form. Although I’d found his other form beautiful in a terrifying kind of way, his horns and charcoaled skin had been replaced with the same fiery red hair and muscular build.
For a moment, all I did was stare, leaning into the relief of seeing Mortimer very much alive. He purred quietly against Thallor’s neck. An act that had me questioning not only his loyalties but also what Thallor had done to earn his trust. Although I didn’t take that much to consider, cats were evil little shits themselves, so this was probably a match made in heaven.
My hands were still trembling as I dropped my keys onto the counter. The two plants I’d knocked over had been repotted, and I couldn’t see any soil on my floor, not even a speck. The salt ring had also been whipped away, and my cock shaped candle had been placed next to my silver trinket on my kitchen counter. The site of the two ritual items sat beside an empty box of Froot Loops and a half-eaten apple really had me questioning my life choices.
When I turned back around, Thallor was staring at me with Mort still perched on his shoulder. He held my gaze for a beat before walking over to the bin, the one marking the halfway point between us, before dropping in the leaf trimmings. Hisfreckles were back, and his eyes were the same red as before our conversation had taken a turn for the worse. A sign that, despite everything, he was feeling calmer… At least I hoped he was. His eyes found mine again and the way he was looking at me made me feel exposed. Made me feel like he could see through my clothes to my naked body underneath.
I wasn’t sure what powers he had or didn't have, so I crossed my arms over my chest,just in case.
“You have mud on your face,” he said before stalking back over and placing a palm in the soil of my ginormous plant. The one that made even Thallor look a little small.
“You have my cat on your shoulder,” I bit back, settling Mortimer with a ‘seriously, I feed you’look. One he seemed completely unphased by.
“You’re the one who left him here howling against the door.”
