“Yourlife?” I prod, seizing the opportunity.
He doesn’t answer the question. “So, you’re not going to scold me for vandalism?”
My lips purse. He clearly doesn’t realize that no answer to my question is the only affirmative answer I need.
“I don’t see the point,” I respond.
Maybe because his human life was so long in the past, it doesn’t matter to him. I wonder how long he’s been alive—or whatever this version of existing is considered.
“How many other lives have you had, Kit?”
He waits a beat before answering my question with one of his own. “What do you mean?”
I huff out a small sigh. “You know what I mean. How many other people have you possessed? What happened to them?” I’m not sure I even want to know the answer, but it’s too late. I’ve already put it out there, so I may as well press on. Knowing my future is dangerous, sure, but not knowing might be worse. “Let’s start with the man from your memory. Do you even remember his name? Did you use him until he burned up then abandon him without a care?” My voice sharpens with each word. I need to know if I’ll disintegrate in here until my body is nothing but an empty vessel.
Kit takes a second to respond. “I remember his name,” he says simply.
“And?”
He scoffs aloud in my voice, pinching the bridge of his nose. In the void he snaps, “And of course, I remember his name, Lacy. That was me.”
I groan, matching his tone and resisting the urge to slam myhead against the window. “I know that was you. But who was yourhost? You know, the person whose life you randomly chose to ruin.”
He groans back at me roughly. With his voice steady and slow but at the risk of erupting at any second, he says, “I understand what you’re asking, but the man you saw wasme.” He slams his hand into his chest twice, hard enough to send a jolt of pain through me.“That’s what I used to look like, when I was fresh in the demon game. The memory I showed you was mine, meaning I showed you how I saw things. I see myself, even if all you would see was the hazy yellow smoke we talked about. I can see other demons for what they truly are, smoke-less, so that’s also what you saw. That’s why all of them except the pig looked human. They were too new to be ruined by the evil that runs through them now.” He swallows. “Throughmenow. If I saw any of them now, they don’t look like that.”
“But you’re human,” I interject. “In my void, you looked the same.”
The eruption I was anticipating breaks the surface. “I don’t look like that anymore! We’ve all been mutated by our time as demons, each of us growing more and more disfigured as time goes by and takes away every ounce of humanity we might have left! I’m so sorry that I used to look normal and if that’s confusing for you. I’m sorry you can’t get past this,but I am not human.” His voice cracks on that last sentence.
I purse my lips, knowing the smart decision would be to stay quiet and call it a night. Guess I’m not very bright. “Kit, do youwantto be a demon?”
“Why would I not?” he seethes, kicking the ground withhis shoe. “I can do whatever I want. Have whatever or whoever I want. Zero consequences. Unlimited possibilities. It’s the dream, right? No boundaries. No emotions. No soul. I am perfectly fucking happy with who I am. And I am perfectly fucking happy to ruin your life.”
He picks up the extra can of black paint and chucks it at the ghost with strength I know is all his and not mine. The can explodes on the billboard, ruining the painting. Kit stalks off before I can truly observe the damage.
It would be best to stay quiet for a while.
thirteen
. . .
Kitand I driveback to my apartment in silence. I wasn’t trying to anger or upset him, and nowI’mupset. I shouldn’t feel bad, because, hello, he’s a demon, but guilt is gnawing at me. He did an out-of-pocket—technically illegal—nice thing, and instead of appreciating it, I went after him. But I want to know what our future looks like. I mean,myfuture. If the day where he’s done with me ever comes.
He pulls into a spot in front of my building and parks the car but doesn’t immediately get out. His face is serious in the rearview mirror. Like he’s contemplating saying something.
But nothing comes.
He gets out of the car, locking it behind himself. Wow, considerate. He stomps up to my apartment, opens my unlocked front door, and then actually bothers to lock it behind himself.
He enters the bathroom, stations himself in front of the mirror, and exhales slowly. “Lacy?”
Iconsider giving him the silent treatment but think better of it. “What?”
We lock eyes through the mirror.
“There’s paint all over you. We need to shower.”
I knew this day would come.Whatever. I’m so done at this point, I don’t even care. “Well, turn the lights off and don’t wash my hair. It’s not ready yet.”
