His head popped around the bathroom door, eyebrows waggling. "That good, huh?"
I just smiled, which was answer enough. Ziggy disappeared back into the bathroom with a victorious whoop.
The whole scene felt delightfully conspiratorial, like we were teenagers getting ready for a sleepover rather than adults in our thirties. Ziggy's presence had completely transformed the vibe of the apartment which I was grateful for.
"Okay," he announced, emerging from the bathroom with an armful of products. "Moisturizer because dry skin is the devil, face wash because you can't be letting demon boy see you with yesterday's mascara under your eyes, and your good perfume because..." He shimmied his shoulders suggestively.
"You're the absolute worst," I told him, but my smile undercut any sting the words might have carried.
"You love me," he replied confidently, arranging the toiletries in my bag.
"God help me, I do."
He zipped the compartment closed with a flourish, then stepped back to survey his work. The bag was packed efficiently but thoroughly—enough clothes for at least a week, all my essential toiletries, work equipment, and even the small stuffed rabbit I'd had since childhood that still sat on my bed. I hadn't even seen him grab that.
"There," he announced, hands on his hips. "All packed for your supernatural dick appointment."
I shook my head, unable to keep from smiling. "It's more than that, Zig."
His expression softened. "I know. I can see it on your face." He sat on the edge of the bed beside the packed bag. "Tell me about the thread thing again. How does it feel?"
I pressed my hand to my chest, right over where the connection seemed strongest. "Like... a tether. A warm line connecting us. When he's close, it's this contented hum, like everything is exactly as it should be. When he's far away, like now, it's a gentle pull, tugging me in his direction."
"That's some serious woo-woo shit," Ziggy observed. "The Moirai really came through for you, huh?"
"changing your mind about seeing them?"
"Nope," Ziggy declared confidently.
I laughed, turning back to my laptop. "Let me just finish this email, then I need to change before my meeting."
Ziggy flopped back on my bed dramatically. "Fine, be responsible. I'll just lie here and imagine your demon daddy ripping more of your clothes off."
"Please don't call him that to his face," I begged, though the mental image made me snicker despite myself.
"No promises."
My phone buzzed on the desk beside my laptop, the screen lighting up with a notification. I reached for it absentmindedly, assuming it was either a client following up before our meeting or Magnur checking in. My fingers were already swiping to unlock the screen when I registered that the number was unknown. My stomach tightened instinctively, but I told myself it could be anything, a delivery confirmation, a telemarketer, a wrong number. A photo filled my screen—Magnur and me outside my building that morning, locked in an embrace. Theangle was slightly off-center, as if taken hastily from a parked car or a hiding spot across the street.
Below the image, a message in stark black text: "You really replaced me with a monster? You think he's better than me? He won't protect you."
Trevor.
My blood turned to ice water in my veins, my fingers going numb around the phone. The device suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, the image burning into my retinas. He'd been here. Outside my building. Watching. Taking pictures. How long had he been following me? Had he been the presence I'd sensed in the hallway?
"Jade?" Ziggy's voice sounded far away. "Hey, what's wrong?"
My hands started to tremble, the phone vibrating slightly with the force of my shaking. Ziggy was at my side instantly, gently prying the device from my unresisting fingers.
"What the—" he began, then stopped as he saw the image and text. His expression transformed from confusion to fury in the span of a heartbeat. All the playful energy drained from him, replaced by a cold, focused anger I rarely saw.
"That motherfucker," he breathed. "This is from Trevor?"
I nodded jerkily, finally finding my voice. "New number. Again."
He looked at me, then back at the phone, his jaw working as he processed what he was seeing. "Jade." Setting the phone down on the desk he took both my hands in his, forcing me to look at him. "This is escalating. You know that, right? This isn't just annoying texts anymore. He's physically stalking you."
I'd been telling myself for months that Trevor would eventually get bored, move on but here was evidence that he was only getting more obsessive and invasive.
