It was Sunday, and another shift crawled by. Loren worked hard, stopping only to eat a granola bar instead of a proper lunch, ignoring her tattoo that glowed blue all day. Foot traffic was steady, and for that she was grateful. It kept her from looking at her phone; from listening again and again to the messages Darien had left on her answering machine. There were only three, though he’d tried to call her over a dozen times since that night.
As her shift wound down, and foot traffic slowed, she found herself listening to all three messages again as she sat at the foot of the staircase, ignoring the sentient plants that were peeking at her with concern from where they squatted in cages and pots.
The first message was short and tense. “Loren, it’s Darien,” he began. “Look, I know you probably never want to hear from me again. But I wanted to say that I’m sorry for last night. I never meant…I didn’t mean to hurt you.” There was a pause, and then he said, “I’m sorry,” before hanging up.
That message had made her cry the first time she’d heard it.Hard.Because although it was an apology, it wasn’t the words she wanted to hear.
The second message was left two days after the first. “Loren, it’s me again. If you could call me back, or even shoot me a message…Please. I need to know you’re safe.”
The final message had come in Friday morning. “Lola.” A sigh rattled the phone. “This is the last time I’ll bother you—I promise. I realize I’ve already called too many times, and I should be giving you space… But I need you to know how sorry I am. I warred with myself for weeks about my feelings for you. It was never my intention to lead you on like I did. I should’ve realized how badly this would hurt you; I should’ve thought only ofyou, instead of acting so selfishly, but I…I found it impossible to stay away from you. Istilldo.”
There was a long pause. The first time she’d heard it, she wondered if the answering machine had run out of room.
But then he spoke again. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I wish I could go back to that night and never pull away from you like I did. I wish…I wish you would come home.” Another sigh. “But what’s done is done, and all I can hope for now is that you’ll forgive me. If you need anything, then please,pleasedon’t hesitate to call. I’ll always be here for you.”
No calls or messages had come through since. And she’d cried after hearing that final message, harder than she had after the first.
When four thirty rolled around, Loren breezed through her closing duties and locked up shop. But she wasn’t heading back to the academy; she had to pick up Singer from the groomers on West Rigel Road. The groomer had a habit of running late, so Loren decided to call and check in on how the appointment was going. It came as no surprise when the groomer told her she wouldn’t be finished with Singer until five thirty, so Loren stopped at the Terra Caffe for supper.
It was quarter past five when she boarded a city bus. The vehicle was packed to full capacity as it meandered through Jubilee Square, past City Park, and finally to Yip n’ Clip.
She thanked the groomer and gave her a generous tip before hooking Singer’s leash to his collar and making her way out the revolving doors. The streets were cast in the amber half-light of dusk. She might’ve marveled at the sheer beauty of the sunset, had it not been an omen of the things that would soon prowl the night.
She picked up her pace, urging Singer to a sprint as she made a beeline to the bus stop. As she walked, she dug her bus pass out of the pocket of her jeans and unfolded it.
The streetlamps were winking awake as the bus door squealed open. She skipped up the steps, her bus pass in hand.
But the driver blocked her path with a beefy arm. “No dogs allowed, Miss.”
Loren blinked. “I’ve had him on the buses plenty of times before—”
“Not this one,” he cut in, bubble-gum snapping in his small yellow teeth. “Not anymore. No dogs. New rules, I’m afraid.”
Dread curled in her stomach. She hesitated, Singer waiting on the sidewalk behind where she stood on the bottom steps, as she scanned the interior of the bus that was crammed full of witches, warlocks, and humans.
Not one of them spared her a glance. Not one.
Loren turned to the driver. “It’s getting dark. Please—”
“I’m sorry, Miss.” He pulled the lever partway, the doors nearly shutting on Singer’s leash that was stretched out in the space between where Loren stood on the bus steps and the sidewalk below. “I don’t make the rules.”
Her fist closed around her bus pass, crumpling the paper to a near pulp. She stepped down to the half-closed doors, and the driver opened them just wide enough for her to squish back through. They slid shut behind her, and the bus hissed and sputtered away down the street.
It was almost full dark, and she didn’t know what to do. Singer whimpered and pawed at her sneaker. “It’s okay.” Loren’s voice was a strained gasp. “We’ll walk.”
Mordred and Penelope’s suddenly seemed so far away. If only she’d had enough money; she would’ve called for a taxi in a heartbeat, but she’d used up most of what was in her bank account to get to and from work these past two weeks.
They began making their way back to the Avenue of the Scarlet Star, staying beneath the protection of the streetlamps whenever possible. But the shadows were sweeping in quick. And aside from Loren, no other pedestrians were in sight.
They made it to Jubilee Square when she began cutting through back alleys, though only if they were lit. And it was in one of those alleys, not far from the Avenue of the Scarlet Star, that she began to hear them.
Movement rustled in the shadows, followed by hungry baying and yips.
The demons hunted in packs. They often dragged their prey below ground, where they could feast on them slowly. They savored every drop of blood, every last trace of the soft, fatty marrow in a person’s bones.
A snarl carried down the alley she was cutting through, sending a chill from the crown of her head to the balls of her feet. The lone bulb fixed to one brick wall was the only source of light here, and it began to flicker, threatening to die out entirely, just as she caught sight of them.
There were two behind her. Claws scraped and hissing sounded before they slipped into the shadows of a dumpster, so quick they were no more than streaks of darkness.
