“And now you can’t go back?”
I shrug a shoulder. “That would only really matter if I wanted to go back wouldn’t it?”
“Guess so. Does he know you’re here? In Osneau?”
“Yeah. Egbert knows. From the clan, only he and my parents really know where I am.”
“Ah. Well, I guess I shouldn’t mention you to the lad that works there now.”
“Who?” Along with the teachers they hire, Egbert always has an assistant from the clan. As far as I know it’s Ulara. But she’s getting on in years, so it makes sense she’d have gone back to the mountain. The shop and the clan are both topics Egbert and I have become really good at avoiding on our sporadic catch ups.
“Willan. Nice kid. Always polite.”
The floor drops out from underneath me and only Kroys’ fae reflexes manage to save the pool of vintage clothes around me from death by prey-shifter blood when the mug drops from my hand. The damned thing floats in front of me, the laughing clown’s face mocking me.
“Take it you know him?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” I shake myself off and snatch the floating mug, covering the stupid clown with the palm of my hand.
“Know him in a bad way or is it just a shock?”
“Just a shock. Kinda forgot he was gonna grow up is all.”
“You sure about that?” Kroy asks, looking at me more intently now.
“Yeah. Yeah, definitely.” I repeat, more sure the second time.
“Right, well then. Why don’t I go get my pricing gun and you get the computer and you do the thing with the thing on there to make the doohickey work.”
Kroy acts like he has no idea how the point of sale system I got the IT guy from the club to install for him works, but it’s all a front. Just like I’ve told him a thousand times he doesn’t have to stock blood to keep me coming back, he doesn’t have to act all useless to get me to help.
We work until Kroy can’t keep his eyes open. When he calls it a night and heads off to his apartment above the store, I finish hanging the clothes I’m not taking on the racks on the floor and lock up.
The clothes Iamtaking are heavy in the bag slung over my shoulder. On the street I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself. With the winter nights that bit longer, there’s still plenty of hours until dawn. I look up the street, the way I usually go—theoppositeway to The Magnifitestique Mage—and back the other way. The building is dark, which is expected for one a.m., and feels more imposing than it should. It seems to grow bigger the longer I stare at it from the safety of the Flimsy Sheath’s stoop.
It feels ridiculous to be scared to walk past a building, but I can feel my anxiety rising, my boots loud as shit on the pavement as I start in that direction. Thank the fucking Gods, my phone buzzes in my pocket when I’m only a couple of shops away.
Garret
U up?
Ah, Garret. Always reliable for a good time and a terrible decision. The accompanying dick pic removes any confusion about why he’s messaging.
Be there in 20.
I fire the message back and slip the phone back in my old leather jacket. Even if I didn’t have an excess of energy to burn off tonight, Garret lives in the other direction, giving me an entirely valid reason to turn on my heel and avoid walking down the footpath I’ve avoided for 5 years now.
Dawn is close. I feel like a kid sneaking back into my room, tiptoeing past Kai’s closed door. I wonder if he’s got anyone in there with him? Or if he’s managed to finally bring home that timid little baby vamp that’s always hanging around work. I forgot to leave on a lamp, and the vamp-rated blackout blinds are permanently shut on the bedrooms—it’s safer than having an accident when the sun comes up—so my room is pitch black when I enter. Rather than turning on the lights, I feel around on my dresser to find the remote for the LED candles covering the dresser top—another safety thing my maker, Laurence, insisted on after I kept leaving candles burning too close to dawn and almost burned our place down.
Soft light illuminates just enough for me to throw my haul in the corner to deal with tomorrow. I tucked the necklace deep inside, and I leave it there while I go and shower. Except it’s notthat easy. Even though the magic’s long dead to me, it still feels like it's calling out until, irritated beyond all reason, I make my way back to my room.
I shouldn’t have brought it home, I grumble silently to myself, water dripping off my shoulders where I failed to dry myself in my rush. I should have just let Kroy give it to Egbert and forgotten about it. But I couldn’t.
The metal is just as cold as it’s ever been, and I hate the thrill that shoots through me when my fingers make contact. Wrapping the chain around my fingers, I pull it out angrily, shaking off the belts it’s become tangled in.
Anger is easier to accept than any kind of happiness about it being in my possession. Standing in front of my dresser, the candles lighting up my reflection in the giant mirror hanging above it, I look stressed. Stressed with a conflict that’s been rearing its head more and more often lately. I should really call Laurence about it, but I can’t seem to find the words.
I watch the me in the mirror lift the necklace and carefully loop the chain over my head. The medallion lies heavy over my slowly thudding, mostly dead, magically reanimated heart. Out of place. Wrong. But still right. It sits almost perfectly over the astal spider tattooed over the centre of my chest.
