“You've been gone for like three weeks. Ludo was about to send me after your ass. How long was it there?”
“Like an hour. Maybe.” I scrub my hands down my face, suppressing a groan. I'm exhausted. Between dealing with things here and being summoned by Clara, I need a break. I'm going to end up crashing before long and there won't be anything I can do about it.
Dimitri pushes upright and leans against his headboard. “Triton wanted us to help with the gauntlet. I told him it'd have to wait until you got back.”
“I'm not helping with the gauntlet. That shit is his area. It's his own damn fault he can't keep anyone around to work with the new demons coming in. Fucking asshole.”
He pops off the top of the container and the smell of what I assume to be cooked fries wafts through the air. I can't deny they smell good. I've never had them, obviously. From what Clara said, they seem to be a staple in the human world. It wasn't even that I didn't know about potatoes. They've been around longerthan me and I’ve been around forever, which gives me more opportunities to forget much of the things I've learned.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a finite life like humans. Even witches have the choice to extend their lives. If they tie themselves to a demon, they could technically live forever. Not that many take that option. Why I'm thinking about these things is beyond me. It's not like I want to keep Clara.
“Are you even listening?” Dimitri asks, cutting through my thoughts.
“Seeing as how you blather on more than Ludo, no. I'm not. I'm going to sleep before I get sucked back into paperwork or summoned again.”
He freezes, a fry halfway to his mouth. “You think your witch will pull you back? I thought she just needed the jar open?”
“And batteries changed in her smoke detector. And being saved from dying behind a human machine for soaking clothes. Next she's going to probably need me to clean the gutters.”
“How the hell is it you know what a fucking battery and a gutter is, but you didn't know fries?”
I shrug and my chest tightens. “She said the same thing. Which is your fault, by the way.”
“I asked for fries, didn't say where they needed to come from. It was your choice to ask your witchy girlfriend?—”
“Enough,” I snap. “That's not what I was talking about. You taught me what twerking was.Thatwas your fault.”
His eyes flash gold and a grin splits across his lips. “Tell me she twerked for you. No, no. Tell meyoutwerked.”
“No one was twerking.” Despite my protest, he doesn't look convinced. The image of Clara's legs wrapped in her tight pants, wiggling her ass in my face pops in my head. I swear I can still feel the softness of her flesh giving way under my grip.
“You want one of these? They're pretty good. Got a seasoning on them. Where's the dip?”
“What the fuck,” I breathe. “I'm going to bed before I pass out.”
He doesn't even look up from his potatoes, too busy doing a weird little jig as he eats. I could walk to my room, but I doubt I'd make it. I dissolve into my shadows and instant relief floods my muscles. I didn't realize how tightly I was wound until I release a little bit of magic. If I keep traveling between dimensions, my body will never regulate. Not only will time cease to exist for me, but I'll be consumed by my shadows. It's not a pretty way to go. Plus, I'll never truly be dead. Never at rest.
My room comes into view, and I slough off the excess energy trailing after me. I collapse onto my bed, letting out a groan. My thoughts empty and sleep licks at the corner of my mind. A tug in my navel yanks me awake. There's no floating through nothingness, no time to acclimate, no opportunity to adjust.
When Clara's bedroom materializes, my legs give out and I end up in a heap on the floor. My head swims and shadows billow around me. I don't have it in me to get up. I roll onto my back and stare at her ceiling. Patterns carved into the wood jump out at me and I count the swirls as I attempt to control my breathing.
A small ball of fluff lands on my chest, and sharp needles dig into my skin. A strangled cry leaves me as I bat it away. An annoyed meow echoes through the room and I groan, covering my face with my arm.
“A fucking cat?” I mumble.
“Omen? What are you doing here? And why are you on the floor?” Clara's voice soothes the jagged edges piercing into my head. Of course the cat ruins the moment by jumping on my chest once more. At least his claws stay sheathed this time.
“You summoned, little witch. You summon, I come.”
She snorts and I smirk as I peek at her from between my fingers. My mouth goes dry as I take her in. Mostly she'sbeen in shirts and pants—normal clothes other people probably wouldn't give a second glance. She's definitely not wearing anything like that now.
“What's with the dress?” I wheeze as she snatches the cat from me. The move puts her cleavage almost in my face. I lick my lips, then press them together.
She straightens, cuddling the cat. “Oh, aren't you just the most adorable thing. You're a good little kitty, aren't you? Handsome boy.” She glances down at me. “Why are you on the floor?”
“Tripped over that damn cat.” I didn’t, but she doesn’t need to know that.
I shove to my feet and the fluffball with a squished face hisses at me. Resisting the urge to hiss back at it, I pull in a deep breath. I'm not about to admit I'm on the brink of passing out. My body sways and I squeeze my eyes shut.
