Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You were going to ask me to join you, right?”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know what you can do, but you’ve got more power than I’ve ever felt.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t see me actually fighting in the vision?”
“I told you, someone was blocking a lot of it. I just caught glimpses of you standing while demons rushed you, then I saw one grab you.” He blushed and looked away. “Honestly, I thought you were human until I saw you on campus and felt your aura. That’s when I came up with the idea for the note you didn’t get.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. What the hell did the note say that Lucifer wouldn’t have told me about it? I rubbed the bridge of my nose and tried to remind myself to ask, if I ever spoke to him again.
It was fully dark by the time we reached my apartment building. We didn’t dig too deep into personal stuff, but there was something about him I wanted to trust. He wasn’t Æsir, I was fairly certain, or he would’ve acted while we were alone. He was more like me, I thought.
“Thanks for keeping me company,” I said, and I really meant it. I straightened my spine and brushed invisible dust from my shoulder, fighting to keep a straight face. “Not that I can’t handle myself in a fight, but you at least would’ve made a good distraction if we’d been attacked.”
His lips pulled up in a half-smile. “I thought you said it was luck.”
“Luck is only potential skill.” Actually, he had been a good distraction, and now that I was home, I kind of hoped Sophie was, too. The thought of being alone again made my chest hurt.
Nathan chuckled and held out a small card. I plucked it from his fingers. “If you get in a bind that I don’t foresee, give me a call. If I can’t come, I can get someone here to help.”
It just had his name and a phone number on it in shimmery blue print. “What, no website? Email? How do you stay in business as a psychic?”
“Have a good evening, Lexi.” He grinned and walked away, back toward the Harborwalk.
“Be careful,” I called. He raised a hand over his head, but didn’t turn back.
I looked at the card again and patted my pants for my phone, but these pants didn’t have pockets. I groaned and ran upstairs. Why hadn’t I jogged in jeans or something? At least then I would’ve had a spot for my phone if I’d remembered to grab it.
The apartment was disappointingly empty when I returned and the distraction Nathan had provided officially ended. Sophie must’ve taken an overnight client. I tossed the card on the coffee table and my stomach growled loudly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten much all day. I changed into pajamas and my bathrobe and peeked in the fridge to find a covered bowl with my name written on the aluminum foil.
“What is this?” I murmured to myself in the silence.
Uncovering it brought the most delectable aroma to my nose and my stomach groaned again. Some of the mood falling over me again melted away at her thoughtfulness. I popped the bowl of southern-style chili in the microwave. Most of the time, it was me doing the cooking in the house, but Sophie’s contributions were more than welcome. I loved her southern comfort food.
I crushed a handful of Fritos on top, then curled up on the couch in time to catch the end of an old 80’s horror movie on the new TV. Parents back then were so different. My dad, while technically over a thousand years old, was loving but secretly controlling from the shadows. My mom was pretty laid back but got concerned over weird things, like accidentally bringing my plushies to life or setting Heidi on fire—granted, I did have an issue controlling my pyromancy, so that one was well-founded.
Maybe her concerns weren’t so weird this time after all.
My phone sat on the coffee table in front of me, right next to where Nathan’s card landed. It hadn’t been there when I came through the first time, I was sure of it.
Subconscious power glitch. You summoned your fucking phone.
I sighed and picked it up, already knowing who I needed to call. It was getting late, but she picked it up on the second ring.
“Hey, sweetheart, is everything okay?”
“No, Mom.” I laid back on the couch, mentally preparing myself for this conversation. “Did Dad tell you what he’s been doing?”
“Your father? What’s he up to this time?” Her voice took on a stern tone, like she’d be giving him a talking to later. They were never married, but they acted like they were a lot.
I blinked back angry tears. “Apparently he takes great pleasure in screwing with my love life.”
“This has something to do with your Sam, I presume?” Her voice carried an I-told-you-so tone I wanted to argue with, but then, she’d been the one to tell me to be careful. She couldn’t possibly have predicted this outcome, though.
“Not just Sam,” I grumbled. “He said every time I got to the third date with a guy, he would drive them away. Mom, this whole time I thought it was me! That my magic was messing things up.”
“Calm down, dear, and start from the beginning.”
So I did. I spilled everything, from the failed relationships to meeting Sam to being happy and then having it all ripped away. My mom, for her part, sounded genuinely upset, though not entirely surprised, at both Loki’s behavior and Sam’s identity.
