I show Stenrik. He reads it, and his tension evaporates. “He’s thanking you for the wake-up call.”
“Apparently I did him a favor.” I delete the text, feeling nothing but mild amusement. “CrossFit Karen got her man.”
“And you got yours.”
“Did I? Because last I check, you’re Vetrfolk. Completely different species.”
“Still not elves,” he says firmly.
“Still not admitting the similarities.”
Martha’s voice cuts through our banter: “Rianne Martinez! What happened to my library?”
She stands in the doorway, surveying the damage. Ice patterns on windows and ceiling, books scattered everywhere, suspicious frost flowers that definitely weren’t there before, and us, obviously disheveled, standing too close together.
“Shadow creature integration event?” I try.
“Corporate merger,” Keith adds helpfully, appearing with his clipboard. “Keith has documentation!”
Martha looks at the destruction, at Keith in his shadow business suit, at Carl (now partially solid) organizing shadow creatures into neat rows outside, at my massive glowing cat prowling past with something unfortunate in his mouth, at me in my wrinkled clothes, and at Stenrik standing protective and possessive beside me.
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” she decides. “Insurance can handle it. Rianne, you’re taking vacation days.”
“But...”
“All of them. Immediately. Starting now.” She looks at Stenrik. “You. Tall one. You’re responsible for her now.”
“Permanently, actually,” he says.
“Good. She needs supervision. She alphabetized the fiction section by character names last month.”
“It made sense at the time!” I protest.
Martha leaves, carefully stepping over shadow creatures preparing what appear to be resumes. Carl waves at her with his partially solid hand.
“So,” Stenrik says. “Breakfast?”
“Is anything open?”
“The diner’s always open.”
“Even after an interdimensional integration event?”
“Especially then. They have a special menu.”
We walk out together into the morning sun. The town looks normal, the storm gone, the boundary dissolved. People are already out shoveling snow like nothing happened. Except for the shadow creatures following Keith down Main Street in a professional single-file line.
“This is our life now,” I observe. “Shadow creatures, evolved cats, permanent magical bonds.”
“Having second thoughts?”
I look at him, at the way the morning light catches the new gold flecks in his eyes, at how his hand finds mine without thinking. “Never. Though you still owe me a real date.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight. Somewhere normal. With food that isn’t expired.”
“Carl says the Italian place is excellent. Four and a half stars.”
