“Sleep well?” I ask.
“I do not sleep.”
“Right. Of course you don’t.” I take a sip of tea. It’s too hot and tastes like spite. Perfect. “Well, I’m going to work now. Try not to destroy my flat while I’m gone.”
“Release me.”
“No.”
“Release me or I will tear this pathetic binding apart and make you regret every decision that led to this moment.”
I look at the scorch marks on the floor. At the way the shadows keep trying to push past the runes and failing. At those burning blue eyes that are glaring at me with enough intensity to melt steel.
“The binding will hold,” I say, with far more confidence than I feel.
“Will it.”
It’s not a question. It’s a threat.
I drain my tea and try not to think about what happens if he’s right. “Enjoy your day. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I leave before he can respond. I can feel those eyes on my back all the way to the door.
The coffee shop is blissfully normal. The espresso machine is exactly where I left it. The pastries are delivered on time. Everything is ordinary and calm and definitely not involving ancient shadow magic.
I’m setting up the counter when Brian arrives.
He explodes through the door like a small, enthusiastic bomb, all big smiles and golden retriever energy, despite the fact that it’s barely seven in the morning.
“Good morning!” he announces, loud enough to wake the dead or possibly summon them. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
I look out the window. It’s grey and drizzling. Classic Bristol weather.
“It’s raining,” I say.
“Exactly! The earth is being nourished! High Priestess Magdalene always said rain was a blessing from the goddess.”
“High Priestess Magdalene sounds exhausting.”
“Oh, massively.” Brian grabs an apron and ties it on with disturbing efficiency. “She once made us stand in a thunderstorm for six hours to ‘receive the wisdom of the tempest.’ Brian Two got struck by lightning. He said it was very enlightening.”
I stare at him. “That’s not what enlightening means.”
“That’s what I said! But apparently I was missing the spiritual significance.” He starts checking the milk levels with the same delight most people reserve for Christmas morning. “So, what’s the plan for today? Any exciting coffee-based adventures?”
From upstairs, there’s a loud thud.
I freeze. Brian looks up at the ceiling.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“It sounded like something fell.”
“Old building. Things settle.”
Another thud. Louder this time. Something scrapes across the floor with a sound like nails on a chalkboard.
