“What’s that?”
“That’s what you need to find out. Help her find what she lost. Can I spell it out for you any more clearly?”
“How did you become wise, Phoenix?”
“Years of recklessness followed by inevitable consequences,” said Phoenix.
“Makes sense.”
The two demons stared at the night sky.
“How does she feel about you, anyway?” said Phoenix.
Andy smoothed his beard nervously. “I don’t know. She likes me.”
“And you like her. Except—it’s a little more than that, isn’t it?”
As a demon who had long ago learned to set aside attachments, Andy had pretty much forgotten how to cry. Instead, his wings involuntarily shuddered.
“Bloody hell. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself, mate. We talked about this,” said Phoenix.
“I know.”
“It can’t work. No human wants an ancient demon like you or me. Not for anything serious, anyway.”
“I know,” said Andy, holding his head in his hands.
“Even if you’ve mellowed with time and picked up a few skills here and there.”
“I know!” cried Andy, startling a nearby vulture roosting on the roof.
“So why torture yourself?”
Andy laughed ruefully. “Torture is what demons do best.”
“Besides, you may look male to her, but for supernatural beings, gender’s just a habit. How’s she going to take that?”
“You’re killing me,” said Andy.
“I wish I could. It’d put you out of your misery. Be a mercy, really.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Any time,” said Phoenix.
Andy shifted slightly before changing the subject. “She’s supposed to go out tomorrow. With Raya.”
“Not the witch again?”
“To go shopping for a makeover,” said Andy.
“Shopping for a makeover?” Phoenix scoffed. “Raya wouldn’t know a dress from a hole in the ground. All she ever wears are pithy t-shirts and jeans.”
“I’ll be there.”
Phoenix waved Andy’s remark away. “You’ll be too busy making puppy dog eyes to talk sense.”
“I resent that,” said Andy, ruffling his wing feathers in indignation.
