He opened it to reveal what looked like a miniature apartment within our apartment - tiny furniture arranged in a perfect living room setup, complete with skeleton-sized chairs and tables. A smaller doorway led to what appeared to be additional rooms scaled for our tiny companions.
"You made them their own space," I whispered, touching his arm. "Fenric, that's so thoughtful."
He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed but pleased. "Bureau housing doesn't technically account for interdimensional entities or animated skeletal companions,but I made a compelling case for accommodating specialized occupancy needs."
Before I could respond, Horrace zoomed into the room, trailing excited mini-skeletons behind him. They froze when they saw their custom living space, before erupting into what could only be described as skeletal squeals of delight. Jeffrey immediately claimed the largest chair, posing regally as the others explored their new domain.
"I believe that counts as approval," Fenric observed dryly.
A commotion from the main living area drew our attention. Several Bureau agents had arrived with the last of our belongings, supervised by Zane and Rook. As we walked back to join them, Fenric's hand found mine, his fingers interlacing with mine.
"Thank you," I said again, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "For all of this. For making us a real home."
Something softened in his silver-blue eyes. "You deserve it. All of you."
Without thinking, I stood on tiptoe and kissed him, not a quick peck, but a real kiss, deep and meaningful. He froze for a half-second before responding, his free hand coming up to cup my cheek.
I was vaguely aware of the Bureau agents pausing in their work, watching us with wide eyes. Fenric's reputation for professional distance was apparently well-known.
When we finally separated, Fenric's entire face had turned pink. He straightened his tie, clearing his throat loudly.
"That will be all," he announced to the staring agents. "Please complete the delivery in a timely manner."
The agents scrambled back to work, though I caught several exchanging meaningful glances.
Zane appeared beside us, his mismatched eyes dancing with amusement. "You broke Bureaucrat Fenric," he whispered in my ear. "I'm impressed."
"Worth it," I grinned, watching as Fenric returned to supervising the move-in with renewed vigor, occasionally touching his lips as if he could still feel my kiss there.
The Oracle's shard in my pocket hummed softly, almost like approval.
Chapter
Fifty-Five
Winter
Ileaned against the couch, watching as Milo carefully sorted through the latest batch of books we'd unpacked. The afternoon sunlight streaming through our new windows made his brown curls glow like copper, and I found myself smiling at the sight. It had been a few weeks since we'd moved into our spacious new apartment, and the peace was almost unsettling. No cultist attacks, no reality-warping incidents, no emergency calls from the Bureau.
The Harbingers had gone silent.
Which was even scarier than their attacks.
"Radio silence isn't necessarily good news," Rook had growled yesterday during one of his increasingly frequent security sweeps. "It means they're planning something."
But right now, watching Milo hum softly to his skeleton crew as they helped organize our growing library, I decided to embrace the quiet. The blue markings on my arms pulsed contentedly, no longer the chaotic storm they'd been when everything started.
"Winter," Milo looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, Jeffrey perched on his shoulder like a bony parrot. "Can I talk to you about something?"
Something in his tone made me straighten. "Of course. What's wrong?"
He glanced around the room, confirming we were alone. Fenric was at the Bureau for a meeting, Zane was teaching a yoga class, and Rook was doing whatever mysterious werewolf errands occupied his afternoons. I was convinced he was grooming his fur.
"It's not wrong, exactly," Milo set aside the book he'd been cataloging. "It's just," he paused, "I've been having dreams."
My blood chilled. "Prophetic dreams?"
"No, not like yours," he shook his head quickly. "These are different. It's like someone's calling to me. Trying to communicate."
