"Uh, that can't be good," Zane took a cautious step back.
Fenric was already typing furiously on his tablet. "Possible prophetic activation in process. Standby."
The vending machine gave a final, violent shake before its dispensing slot ejected a single item. Not food, but a small scroll that shot across the room like it had been fired from a cannon.
Instinctively, I reached up and caught it. The moment my fingers closed around the parchment, the blue markings on my arm pulsed in recognition.
"Another trial scroll," my eye twitched as I carefully unrolled it. The writing was in glowing blue script, the same as the markings on my skin.
"What does it say?" Fenric demanded, trying to peer over my shoulder.
I cleared my throat and read aloud: "'Bring the monster home. (No, not Rook.)'"
Silence fell over the apartment as we all took in the message. Then Zane snorted, a laugh escaping him despite his attempt to smother it.
"Oh, that's good," he chuckled. "Even the prophecy knows you're a beast, Rook."
Rook growled low in his throat, but there was no real heat behind it. He was too busy pulling his shirt back on, his eyes avoiding mine.
"What monster?" Fenric brow furrowed in confusion. "And what home? This makes no sense without proper context."
"Does anything about this prophecy make sense?" I sighed, rolling the scroll back up. "First a cosmic goose, now some monster we need to take home."
"At least it specified not to bring Rook," Zane pointed out helpfully. "That narrows it down to every other monster in existence."
I groaned, moving to sit on the couch. The scroll felt warm in my hand, its message burning like a brand in my mind.
Bring the monster home.
But what monster? And more importantly, what home?
As the others began debating possibilities, my gaze drifted back to Rook. He'd finished pulling on his shirt and now stood by the window, his profile outlined against the fading afternoonlight. The moment between us, whatever it had been, was gone, broken by Zane and Fenric's untimely arrival.
Yet something had changed. I could feel it in the air between us, in the way his eyes briefly met mine before looking away. In the lingering warmth where his thumb had brushed my cheek.
We were different now, Rook and I.
Like Zane and I were.
This was getting complicated and I didn't mean the prophecy.
The vending machine hummed contentedly in the background, as if pleased with the chaos it had caused.
Little fucker.
Chapter
Fourteen
Winter
"Bring the monster home," I read the scroll again for what felt like the hundredth time. "What monster? And where's home? My actual apartment? This prophecy prison? The Bureau?"
The scroll remained stubbornly cryptic, the blue script glowing faintly in the dim light of the living room. Fenric had been analyzing it for days with Dr. Thornwick, running scans with various magical devices that beeped and whirred and occasionally shot out sparks. He was driving us all nuts. More than usual.
Today Rook retreated to the balcony, still avoiding eye contact after our almost-moment on the coffee table. Zane was sprawled in an armchair, watching me with those mismatched eyes that seemed to see too much.
"Maybe it's metaphorical," Zane twirled a pen between his fingers. "Like, the monster is your inner demons, and home is self-acceptance."
