Page 22 of Night Shift

His brow creases.

“The date, Erebus.”

“Ah.”

He sets his half of the pastry carefully on the tissue paper and straightens, making the whole thing feel like I’m about to receive a royal summons.

“Calliope Craven, would you accompany me somewhere?”

“That’s technically an invitation.”

“Is it insufficient?”

“No, it’s adorable.”

His mouth tightens.

“In a good way.”

“I am beginning to distrust that word.”

Laughing, I reach for my coat. “Where are we going?”

I should probably be more concerned about following the primordial embodiment of Night into the fog after midnight.

Instead, I’m eating the second pastry.

Erebus leads me toward the bay, where the buildings thin and the smell of salt overwhelms the city’s usual combination of exhaust, wet pavement, and fried food. The fog is lighter near the water, unraveling in silver threads above the shore, while the lighthouse farther up the coast sends its beam through the darkness at steady intervals.

I glance at him. “So when Petra said you’re Night, she meant that literally.”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

His gaze lifts toward the sky. “Enough of it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is the most accurate one.”

I smile. “What does being Night actually entail?”

He seems surprised by the question.

“You have never wondered what happens after sunset?”

“I assumed physics.”

“Physics is involved.”

“Glad to hear it.”

A faint smile touches his mouth.

“I do not create darkness. It existed before almost everything. I usher it, hold it, and maintain its boundaries until it is time to relinquish the sky.”

“To Dawn.”