“How could I forget?” I shrugged my bag higher on my shoulder and offered a meager smile.
“Assignments getting the better of you, eh?” Moth snickered.
“And I thought you were the know-it-all,” Niffy added smugly, lifting her head higher.
“Not when it matters, I guess.” Certainly not lately. I knew less than I needed to. That alone was enough reason to seek out Professor Quinn and hound him for answers. Not knowing everything and struggling to understand what my grandfather wrote was quickly eroding away at me. Like a brutal wave chipping away at a cliff face until there was nothing left but pebbles on a sandy shore.
“You need a break then.” Talon finally spoke, and the sound of their voice almost startled me. Their eyes avoided direct contact, and they shifted restlessly from foot to foot. Yet their grin split wider, nearly reaching their ears. Too wide.
“Right, the party!” Niffy clapped her hands. She reached into her bag and pulled out an orange flyer. “They call it the Fall Festival these days, but it’s always been a Halloween party.”
“Something about the school board trying to dissuade the hedonistic ritual of the more excitable students. All that talk of the undead and hair-raising antics gets the rowdier crowds into trouble,” Moth said. He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his combat boot.
Niffy handed a flyer over, and I accepted. If she noticed the slight tremor in my fingers, she didn’t speak of it.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. This is all anyone is talking about,” Niffy added.
I scanned the bright orange flyer, taking note of the cheesy pumpkins and bats scattered across the page. It looked likesomething a kindergarten teacher would send home to parents about a class party, and not an invitation for a university-level event. The creator might not have a passion for graphic design, but it got the point across.Costumes and booze.
Perhaps a break from the otherworldly was needed. A chance to shed the skin of a cowed victim and spend time with company who didn’t shun me. Alcohol wouldn’t hurt either. In fact, the idea of getting a little drunk appealed to the overworked part of me desperate for a break. Getting buzzed had always eased the strain of racing thoughts and fractured my personal chains of social awkwardness.
“I’ve been trying to keep my head down and focus on my work. A thesis doesn’t write itself.” And everyone would think me insane if I started blabbering about studying demons or attempting to decipher cryptic notebooks left behind by my grandfather. I shoved the flyer into my bag, and a single corner of bright orange stuck out, flapping in the insistent breeze.
“Isn’t that what nepo rich kids are supposed to do?” Moth leaned in, tone silken. “Pay off some other nerd to do all the hard work for them.”
“I would never!”
Even the idea of asking another person to do any of my coursework for me had a sickness rolling through my core. I took pride in my research and writing. Not to mention that reading the lore and history of the world was half the fun.
The three of them snickered at the same time. Ice slipped down my spine from the sibilant, almost practiced sound.
“Know-it-all and a goody-two-shoes,” Niffy snickered. Her nose scrunched as she shared glances with Moth and Talon.
Good girls didn’t let their professors fuck them in bar bathrooms. That wasn’t something I would correct them on. If I had to maintain an image around them to remain palatable,then I’d take on the mantle of the smarty-pants saint. Anything to abate my loneliness.
“Just say you’ll be there,” Moth encouraged.
Talon’s grin split until their teeth appeared. All white and perfectly symmetrical in a way that stood out. “It’ll be a killer time,” they said.
I blinked, and they changed—morphed. Sharp and glistening inside a beak-shaped mouth.
My heart skipped a beat, and I held my breath.
I took a step back, clutching my bag tighter.
“Blondie?” Moth’s voice plucked me out of the horrifying singularity. As if I’d blipped out of existence into another dimension and plopped back into my own too-tight skin.
“Right,” I huffed, struggling to breathe even as I nodded my assent. “Of course, yeah, I’ll be there.”
23
Hunting the stolas wasn’t as exhilarating when they made it easy.
A nearly full moon hung heavy overhead, pregnant with a vibrant silver glow. The lunar light guided me through my nightly patrol around the Ashcroft family home. Even with their leaves shed for the encroaching winter, the boughs and underbrush were thick enough to obscure my vision on a starless night. Without the moon shining the way, I might have missed the disturbance in the dirt leading from the barrier of trees to the backyard.
A clear set of talon marks trailed from the shadows toward Ophelia’s sanctuary. I brushed my hand through the fallen leaves, uncovering a white and brown feather. Too long and wide to belong to a normal barn owl.
To my disappointment, I had missed the early signs of the predators encroaching on their prey. Admittedly, it hadn’t taken long for me to catch on to their scheme once their public appearances became regular. Monsters wearing the masks of humans and inviting Ophelia to their local haunt. How easy it had been for the demons to target the lonely new girl at school desperate for companionship.
