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"Your hostility grows tiresome."

The cat's only response was to sit directly in the center of the room, where he proceeded to stare at me with profound disapproval. "I assure you, the feeling is mutual."

Reggie blinked. I had seen dragons display less arrogance. "You're an absurd creature."

Mrrow.

"Precisely."

Humans willingly invited these beasts into their homes. Fed them. Celebrated them. Allowed them to sleep upon their furniture. If Hell had ever devised the perfect instrument for testing patience, it had somehow escaped and become... a cat.

Reggie yawned. Then, without warning, turned his back on me. The insult felt intentional. "I prefer snakes."

The cat's ear twitched.

"I said what I said."

Satisfied that I'd lost whatever contest we'd apparently been having, he sauntered toward Poppy's bedroom before disappearing through the half-open door. Traitor. The cottage fell quiet once more.

My gaze drifted toward the worn notebook Mrs. Wilton had us take home to study. Moonbell blossoms. Silver moss. Glowcap mushrooms. Ash fern.

I studied the list again. The Moonbells had led us to the first weakness in the veil. The Glowcaps had confirmed infernal residue where none should have existed. Tomorrow would be Silver Moss. Then Ash Fern. Each reacted to magic differently. Each revealed something the others could not. It was a sensible investigation. Methodical. Careful. Exactly how I would've approached it.

So why did it feel... incomplete?

I leaned back in my chair. Moonbells only bloomed where the barrier between realms had become dangerously thin. Glowcaps absorbed traces of infernal magic that lingered long after a disturbance had passed. Together, they'd confirmed what Mrs. Wilton already suspected. The veil was weakening. That much we knew.

What we still didn't know was why.

Infernal energy did not simply seep into another realm.

Not without cause. Not without force. Something had disturbed the balance. Something powerful. Something old.

I disliked unanswered questions. Especially when I couldn't decide whether we were looking for a place ...or a culprit. Then it became marginally less reassuring.

There was only one way to find out. I opened the cursed machine humans called a laptop. The screen illuminated the room. The screen flickered to life. "There."

Progress. A small victory. One I intended to enjoy. The machine hummed quietly as it awakened. I leaned back, waiting.

From down the hallway came the soft creak of old floorboards. My head lifted automatically. Silence. Nothing. Just the house settling.

I looked back at the screen. Then toward the hallway again. My fingers stilled over the keyboard. Annoying. I had spent centuries hunting souls across realms without distraction. Yet somehow one sleeping nurse had become enough to pull my attention from the task at hand.

I rose before I'd consciously decided to. Crossed the room. Stopped outside her bedroom door. No sound. Steady breathing drifted faintly through the wood. Safe.

I turned to leave. Reggie sat in the middle of the hallway. Watching me. His one eye practically glowed with smug satisfaction. "You tell no one."

The cat blinked. Then, with all the ceremony of a king dismissing a servant, he pushed the bedroom door open another inch and slipped inside. I stared after him.

"I am beginning to understand why your species was never welcomed in Hell."

The answering purr from inside the room sounded suspiciously like laughter.

By the time lunch rolled around, I'd already checked the clock seventeen times. Not that I was counting. Mrs. Wilton had looked worse that morning. Much worse.

Five days ago, she'd been pale and coughing. Today, her favorite lavender cardigan had hung from her shoulders as though someone had taken the woman I knew and quietly removed half of her overnight. Her cheeks looked hollow. Bruise-dark circles shadowed her eyes, and even lifting her teacup had made her hand tremble.

She'd smiled, of course. Mrs. Wilton always smiled. Then she'd insisted she felt perfectly fine while breathing like every inhale had to fight its way into her lungs. I was more than worried.