Page 75 of Twisted Sorcery


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“I love you.”

22. EPILOGUE

“I will actually get a real bed at some point,” Mav says as we sink down into his new-but-used foldout couch.

We touch our papercups with celebratory healthy B-negative blood together, though rather than a satisfying clink we only get a noiseless squish.

“Congratulations,” I say, probably for the fiftieth time. “I’m so proud of you!” Pointing at the sexy firemen calendar he’s hung up on one of the walls, I add, “You’ve really got your life together now.”

He laughs and shakes his head. There isn’t much other furniture in his new room besides a clothing rack and a table whose particle-board top has gotten wet at some point and begun swelling up at the corners. Despite this, the room has an air of hopeful cheer to it that Pavel’s apartment was distinctly lacking in.

“Well,” he shrugs, “It’s not quite living in a mansion with my sugar mommy but to each their own, I guess.”

I slap him on the arm. “It’s not a mansion, it’s just areallybig house!”

The mention of Celeste dampens the mood just a little.

“How are you doing on the mental health front, by the way?” I ask a little more quietly.

“I don’t hear voices now, most of the time.”

I frown.

“Oh, I’m just kidding.” He sighs. “I don’t know how to put it. It’s really hard but I’m getting better. Like when a broken bone has grown together all crooked so it needs to be re-broken to heal properly.”

“Ew. Is that a thing?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, dummy, doctors do it all the time.”

“Still, I just wish you hadn’t gotten caught up in this mess.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright. It kind of felt like…” For a moment, he looks at his hands, tilting his head. “It felt like I had something like that coming for a long time, you know? If she hadn’t pushed me over the edge, something else would have.”

Though I’m not sure I agree with his assessment, I nod along. When it comes to Mav having his psychotic episode, we figured out it had something to do with the combination of smoking Ghostshade and being controlled by blood magic. And though it makes sense – if your mind is already untethered from your body, it is that much easier to accidentally displace with magic – I still think the fault can be attributed solely to Celeste. Not that she hasn’t been suffering with the full effects of her guilt since her withdrawal.

“And you’re sure it’s ok if she comes by? I think she’ll be here soon but I can still tell her it’s a bad time.”

He grins widely and nods. “I’ve figured out that the more guilty I make her feel, the better her gifts get, and I really laid it on thick last time she was at the bar.”

I roll my eyes. Mav’s job at the [witch bar] means the two of them awkwardly cross paths at least every couple of weeks – Celeste still struggles to be around that much Ghostshade so despite Mel’s protests we spend a lot more time at home than going out – but at least when she’s there, most of the patrons don’t have the nerve to curse out Mav for being a vampire.

“You realize this is my girlfriend we’re talking about, though?” I ask.

He laughs. “Yeah, right. More like your handler. I’m surprised she doesn’t keep you on a leash, to be honest.”

Setting my teeth, I cross my arms.Not in public, at least.

When he sees my face, he puts his hand on my arm. “I’m happy for you two, really. There was a moment there when I thought the two of us were beyond redemption.”

Gesturing around the room, I say, “And look at us now!” I point at a small cactus he has on his table. “You’re going to kill your first plant and everything!”

He pouts. “I’m good at taking care of things, it might survive.”

“Not good enough to remember that plants need sunlight.”

“Oh.”

A clattering noise outside of the window gets our attention and we both stand on the lounge to look out into the street. Celeste’s car has pulled up on the curb followed by a white moving van.

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