“We did it! It worked!” The shouts must have been from her parents.
“We felt it! Congratulations.”
“Thank you. We are stoked and hyped up and let’s celebrate.” And she kept talking before I could remind her of the problems we hadn’t yet solved.
“Pizza,” she continued. “I want a pie as big as a table. Meet us at Ralphio’s in thirty.”
Ralphio’s was a Chicago dive famous for the size of its pizzas and the fact that it never closed. Although I wasn’t sure how the demon apocalypse would affect their business hours.
“You’re sure it’s open?”
“Yep. I checked.”
It wasn’t near our loft, so I hadn’t been there often. But we were celebrating Lulu, so at Connor’s nod, I relented.
“We’ll meet you there. But then it’s back to work.”
“Scout’s honor,” she said.
“You weren’t a scout,” I pointed out, but she’d already ended the call.
* * *
We were pulling into the gravel parking lot at Ralphio’s when my screen signaled. I pulled it out and found the message I knew would come sooner or later.
be prepared to give back what you took. it’s only a matter of time.
It was sent from a screen account with its contact information blocked, so it was barely worth sending to the team. But I did so anyway, and I showed Connor the message.
“I have something to give him,” he said darkly.
“Let’s skip that, and go eat.”
Connor leaned over and nipped at my ear, which sent amazing heat down my spine.
“Food now,” I said. “But later, do that again.”
* * *
Lulu, Alexei, and Kieran were stuffed into a corner booth in the restaurant’s hazy light. The seating area was small, dark, old, and hot. The kitchen was small enough that the enormous oven was visible from every seat; the bustling staff wore jeans and vintage tees. But the smell was absolute heaven. Grease and meat and garlic and yeast, as they made their dough on-site every day.
“We ordered the kitchen sink,” Lulu said as I slid into the booth beside her. Connor slid in beside me.
There weren’t many others in the restaurant, and most were humans. They’d taken notice of our presence and watched us warily.
“Should we announce we aren’t demons?” I wondered.
“Wouldn’t help,” Kieran said. “Conspiracy theorists are already yelling about the demon ward, how it’s a government mind-control device.”
“First the fluoride, then the demon ward,” Lulu said, voice exceedingly dry. “What will the government do next?”
“Do you know how peaceful and quiet the city would be withmind control?” I asked. “Zero crime. Fully educated populace. Everybody does their fair share.”
“Or billionaires turn the rest of us into serfs,” Kieran said grimly.
“You are the life of the party, Swift,” I said.
His smile was thin. “You want optimism, stick to the NAC. You want hard realism, come out West.”
