Greg's gaze snapped to her almost comically fast. “No, ma'am. I'm… I'm on your side.”
“Really?” The look Cathy gave Greg… Dustin knew that look well. It was allMom. You couldn't lie when she looked at you like that.
And though Greg had never had a mother, he didn't seem immune to the effect.
“I like Dustin,” he said. “I like him a lot.”
He didn't even turn red, saying that.
Dustin was a little impressed.
“Is that so?” One of Cathy's eyebrows lifted. She shot Dustin a glance that meant 'we will talk about this later,' and then she got up. “I'm making more coffee,” she said, and walked to the counter like the last thirty minutes hadn't happened.
Dustin released a breath, watching her putter about the kitchen.
That was his mother. She could fall apart and reassemble herself in the time it took to cross a kitchen. She'd been doing it his whole life. He'd thought it meant she didn't feel things deeply enough for them to stick.
Wrong. He'd been so wrong about that. She felt things so deeply she had to put them down fast or they'd crush her.
The only way to go on wasto keep moving.
Maybe they were more alike than he'd thought.
Greg pushed back from the table.
“I should go,” Greg said to Dustin.
Dustin nodded and walked him to the front door. Down the hallway and past the row of photos on the wall that showed a happier family.
Greg hesitated before stepping out of the house.
“Are you sure you'll be okay?” Dustin asked.
“I don't know,” Greg said, once again too honest for comfort. “Valerie said Morrith was mad at me. I hope he doesn't catch me.”
“Maybe you shouldn't go.”
Greg thought for a moment. “Do they have information about demonic contracts at human libraries?”
“Probably not,” Dustin admitted. “But I still don't think you should go.”
“It's the only way I can help you.”
Dustin studied his reaper's earnest face. Here was yet another person willing to sacrifice for him. “Maybe I don't want you to help me,” he said. “Maybe I only want you to stay.”
“Oh.” Greg made a little surprised sound. “That's… um.” He looked down, averting his gaze. He struggled with something, Dustin didn't know what. “You know I would dissolve,” he said eventually. “Even with the clipboard, I can only stay so long.”
Dustin felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.
He'd ignored that little fact and he wanted to go on ignoring it.
He preferred it when Greg was solid and awkward and flustered and real.
Not thin soul stuff that couldn't persist in the mortal world.
“Dustin?” Greg asked when Dustin remained quiet for too long.
“It's okay,” Dustin lied. “Go do your thing. Find out what happens to people who make deals with demons.”
