“He also knew my name.”
“Great. Fantastic. So you bought cursed candles from a psychic serial killer.”
I snorted while carrying a few candles toward the living room floor.
“Relax. Worst case scenario, they explode.”
“That is not the comforting sentence you think it is.”
I ignored her and started placing candles around the coffee table anyway. The smell of vanilla spread through the apartment while Nina watched me with growing concern.
“You’re placing them in a circle,” she said.
I glanced down. Okay, that did seem a little suspicious.
“It’s for decoration,” I said.
Nina studied me in silence before turning her phone camera towards me.
“What are you doing?”
“If a demon appears, I need evidence for the police.”
I snorted while grabbing another candle from the box. “What exactly are the police supposed to do about a demon?”
“I don’t know. Read it its rights?”
“Fair.”
Nina stayed curled sideways on the couch watching me arrange candles around the coffee table while her face mask had started peeling off one side of her cheek. The apartment already smelled overwhelmingly of vanilla.
“You bought way too many,” she muttered.
“They were on sale.”
“You say that like it removes responsibility.”
“It literally does.”
I grabbed the black candle last and paused. Up close, the silver markings seemed to shift at the edges of my vision. Not glowing exactly, but sharp enough to make my eyes linger in all the wrong ways.
“I still hate that one,” Nina muttered.
“The old guy said it was decorative.”
“The old guy also sounds haunted.”
Fair enough.
I placed the black candle near the middle beside the wine bottle while Nina watched the setup become increasingly satanic.
“…Eva.”
“What?”
“You accidentally made a ritual circle.”
I glanced down at the floor. Okay. From this angle it did look a little demonic.
