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I tried to convince myself that it would have hurt worse if I’d slammed my nose into the cement, although I was struggling at the moment because, holy henna, pain was radiating throughout my body.

“What the henna was that?” I managed to croak, grimacing as I rolled myself onto my back. The cat, once again coated in dust and dirt, bounced onto my stomach.

“Oof!” I cried out.

It scurried away.

“Queenie? Queenie, are you okay?”

No answer.

Shit. I rolled back to my stomach and pushed to my hands and knees. My shoulder screamed in protest as I grabbed a nearby shelving unit and used it to pull myself to my feet.

The cat returned, its tail straight in the air, the hair on its back standing on end. It darted away, and this time I followed. Not sure why, other than it was giving off some weird vibes and that boom made me a little nervous about hanging out in this building, frankly.

The cat led me to Queenie, who was slumped against the wall under the fuse box, her eyes closed.

“Queenie!” I dropped to my knees and pressed my fingers to her throat.

Wait. Did mummies have a pulse? Could they die?

Wasn’t she already dead?

I shook her shoulders. “Queenie!”

Her eyes fluttered, and she huffed out a breath.

“Goddess above, I thought you died,” I practically shouted.

“Oh, nonsense.” She waited for me to stand and then help her to her own feet. “I’m pretty hard to kill. Obviously,” she added drolly while brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“Hello? Is anybody in here?” somebody shouted from the front of the coffee shop. A male voice, but not River the phoenix, thank henna.

“Back here, Asmoday,” Queenie said.

I heard the sound of pounding footsteps and then squinted at a man standing among the dirt and dust and general mayhem.

He had long, thick, luxurious black hair, pale skin, and a crazy number of tattoos, including a very elaborate and colorful drawing of a mermaid with blue hair. And those were just the ones I could see. There were probably more under that leather vest and matching pants.

The pointed ears screamed elf or fae, while the leathery wings gave away his demon side.

What an interesting combination.

A woman stepped up next to him. She wore a black tank top and black yoga pants, had shockingly blue hair, equally blue eyes, and a whole lot of generous curves. Her ears were pierced from the lobe to the helix, and there was a silver hoop in her nose, too.

“Oh, Daruka, you’re here, too,” Queenie said brightly.

“Are you all right?” Daruka hurried to Queenie’s side.

Another man elbowed his way past Asmoday before coming to a stuttering halt.

He was tall, really tall. The top of my head barely reached his armpit. He was thin, too, but not, like, unhealthy. More like lithe, a swimmer’s physique.

He had a high forehead and a narrow nose, black eyes, and hair brushed away from his face like a spray of feathers.

Like a phoenix.

One I recognized.