"We need to go," I spoke with newfound certainty. "There's more to do, and not much time."
As we made our way back through the city, I felt the weight of what had happened settling on my shoulders. We had rescued Horrace and disrupted the cultists' immediate plans, but the larger threat remained. The Veil was still weakening, reality still fraying at the edges. I'd killed more people.
And I was still at the center of it all, marked by both prophecy and Harbinger, carrying fragments of fate inside me that I barely understood.
Chapter
Thirty-Four
Winter
The apartment was quiet for once. No cultists trying to kill us, no reality breaches to seal, no bureaucrats filing reports in triplicate. Just the gentle hum of the air conditioning and Frank's random bubbling. I found myself in the strange position of having actual downtime while the rest of the others were out investigating residual cultist traces from last night's lighthouse incident. Horrace had insisted on going with them.
I took advantage of the rare solitude to check on Milo. He'd been hit hardest by yesterday's events, his necromantic energy nearly drained completely when he'd helped free Horrace. The Bureau's healers had done what they could, but magical exhaustion wasn't something that could be fixed with a spell or potion. It needed rest, time, and careful recovery.
I found him sprawled on the couch under a blanket, pale but awake, watching an old musical on the television. One of his tiny skeletons was curled up at his feet, occasionally tapping itsbony fingers in time with the dance numbers. The sight made me smile despite everything.
"Hey," my voice was soft, not wanting to startle him. "How are you feeling?"
Milo turned his head, his face lighting up when he saw me. Even exhausted, he radiated that unique sunshine energy that made him so special. "Better! Still feel like I've been run over by a necromantic steamroller, but at least I can keep my eyes open now."
I sat on the edge of the couch, reaching up to touch the charm necklace he'd made me. I hadn't taken it off since he'd given it to me. "You scared me yesterday."
"Sorry about that," he winced. "Not my finest moment, getting ambushed by cultists. Jeffrey is still traumatized." He gestured to the skeleton at his feet, who gave a little shudder for dramatic effect.
"You were incredibly brave," I corrected him. "You held off that containment sphere long enough for Horrace to escape. Without you, we might have lost him and your skeletons."
Milo blushed, the color a welcome sight in his too-pale face. "Where is our tentacled friend, anyway?"
"He went with the others. I think he wants revenge." I ran my fingers through Milo's wild curls, pushing them back from his forehead. "You both need rest, though."
He leaned into my touch like a cat seeking affection. "I'm fine, really. Just a little magically depleted. Nothing a few musicals and some quality cuddle time won't fix."
I laughed softly. "Is that your professional medical opinion?"
"Absolutely. I have a PhD in Cuddle Therapy from the University of Making Stuff Up." His grin was infectious, though I could see the lingering exhaustion in his eyes.
I watched the screen for a moment, recognizing the old movie as "Singin' in the Rain." On screen, Gene Kelly splashedthrough puddles with joyful abandon, making dance look as natural as breathing.
"I used to watch these with my mom," Milo eyes were on the screen with a soft whisper. "Before the foster system. It's one of the few clear memories I have of her."
My heart squeezed. Milo rarely talked about his life before becoming a necromancer. "She had good taste."
"She did," he smiled, a touch of sadness in it. "She'd dance around our apartment, singing along. Said that no matter how bad things got, there was always music."
I took his hand, squeezing gently. His fingers were cool in mine, another sign of his depleted energy. "She sounds wonderful."
"She was," he nodded, then seemed to shake off the melancholy. "Anyway, enough about my tragic backstory. How are you doing? That spiral mark still bothering you?"
I touched my side where the Harbinger mark pulsed beneath my shirt. "It's settled down since we disrupted their ritual. Still there, but not actively trying to siphon my energy anymore."
"That's something, at least." Milo shifted on the couch, making room beside him. "Want to join me for some classic Hollywood escapism? I promise not to fall asleep on you. Probably."
I hesitated only a moment before sliding onto the couch beside him. After everything we'd been through, the simple comfort of sitting close to someone who cared about me was irresistible. Milo immediately snuggled against my side, his head finding my shoulder as if it belonged there.
We watched in comfortable silence for a while, the musical numbers providing a colorful distraction from the darker realities of our lives. I found myself relaxing for the first time in days, the constant tension in my shoulders easing slightly.
"Hey, want to see something cool?" Milo jerked suddenly, sitting up a little straighter.
