Mx. Landry threw their arms up and held them wide above their head. Rolling white smoke billowed upward from their palms and held the ceiling in mid-fall, pushed it back up into place, knit the broken beams together again.
Nick trembled and wept. Leigh, Atlas, and I did the same. Moose just gave a little sniffle.
"Go to the car," Mx. Landry said. "The back of the car."
Head hanging, Nick slumped out of the room looking like a kicked puppy dog made of photons and laser beams.
The moment he stepped outside, my emotions settled down.
Leigh blinked like a sleepy toddler and took a step back from me.
Mx. Landry popped a cigarette into their mouth and held a finger to the end of it. A spark flashed and vanished. They shook their hand and tried again with better results. After taking a long drag and blowing it out, they said, "I'll get Nick under cover. You've got things here?"
"The kids are already safe. We'll load this lot in the van and drive them back to Seattle," Rowan said. "Thank you for your help. Please thank Nick for us, too."
Mx. Landry nodded. "All in a day's work."
The eight of us passed an hour erasing evidence of the battle that had taken place and loading the traffickers into the back of the van like so much stacked wood.
By the time I trudged back to the car with Scoob I thought maybe the magic wasn't working. Maybe I was dying after all. Or I was just incredibly freaking tired? Was it possible to die from exhaustion?
The ordeal at Benny's, inter-dimensional portals, dismembered feet inside shoes, Nick's advances, child-trafficking Hindu demons, ghouls, almost dying... all of it really saps a person's energy. Plus, my own stench and the gross, crusty clothes scraping against my body were seriously skeeving me out.
I dozed off in the car, waking when Scoob bumped over the end of the driveway by my apartment.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow if you need to get your car."
Nodding, I climbed out and stretched. In the east, the first suggestion of sunlight brightened the darkness to gray. As I planted my foot on the bottom step, I doubted my ability to reach the top, but somehow, I made it, went inside, stripped in the entryway, dropped my clothes in the nearby trash bin, showered, brushed my teeth, and fell into bed wrapped in a towel.
***
Light poured through between the curtains.
I pulled a blanket over my head.
***
My phone rang.
I turned it off.
***
When I woke up again, I knew right away from the quality of the light that I'd slept the day away and evening was fast approaching.
I got up and peed, pulled on a tee shirt and pajama shorts, and went back to bed.
***
A few minutes past midnight I woke a second time and lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. My stomach growled for food, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the pseudo-safety of my warm, cozy nest. Thoughts drifted around inside my skull, no more than flotsam and jetsam.
Nick could have killed us all.
I didn't know Mx. Landry had those kinds of skills.
The Seattle guys must be halfway home by now.
I wonder why Scoob moved.
What kind of creature is she anyway?
Nick came here to make love to me.
Moose's husband must be an incredibly patient man.
Mx. Landry seemed pretty spent after their cool trick.
Nick could have killed us all.
Mandrake's probably in bed with Hawwa right now.
What did Adom want to talk to Nick about so urgently?
Nick could have killed us all.
"Argh!"
I threw the covers back and thumped my feet on the floor, took another long, hot shower, brushed my teeth again, gargled twice with overly strong mouthwash, and got dressed in fresh pajamas. After starting a pot of coffee and nabbing a Pop-Tart to nibble, I returned to the bedroom and turned my phone on.
The missed call was Chantelle. Six new text messages were also from her.
Who's this woman Drake hooked up with?
Did he tell you he's going to Europe?
If you got dead at work I'm so mad at you.
I need a nanny.
Call me if you're not dead.
Well, I wasn't dead, thanks to Nick... again. But I also wasn't going to call her in the middle of the night. And I was kind of glad I had the excuse not to call. I wasn't ready to talk. I was ready to eat carbs and watch ridiculous television.
I plopped on the couch with my coffee and a muffin the size of my head, found a Mel Brooks movie, and wasted and hour and forty-three minutes of the life that had been miraculously spared twice. Somewhere in the middle, I warmed a burrito in the microwave, and I wolfed that down, too.
Finally, during the witching hour, I picked up my phone and opened the messaging app to text Nick. I typed and deleted half a dozen opening lines and finally gave up and just asked, you up?
The reply was nearly instant. Yes.
I chewed on my lip for a while, watching the three dots dance on the bottom of the screen, but no more came so I asked, You okay?
I could have killed you.
As if it were happening again, I felt the heat of the fireball flash past me, heard the ominous creaking of the ceiling as it gave way. To be entirely honest, the burn on my arm still stung. But you didn't.
I could have.
You would have brought me back again.
Three dots... dancing. And then they disappeared.
I asked a question I already knew the answer to. Can I see you?
No.
Tears pricked my eyes. I swiped at them with the cuff of my pajama shirt. It was stupid to cry. I knew he'd say that. He almost blew up the town. He needed some time to burn off the power surge. Last time it was a few days. Maybe it would be a little longer this time, since it had been a bigger... uh... meal? Will you tell me where you are?
I'm at home.
Probably it was weird that I had no idea where his home was. I wiped my face again and tried to think what to say next, but he beat me to it.
Go to bed, Nowicki. Get a good sleep. Tomorrow you should look for a new job.
What the actual crimeny? I sat staring at the phone with my mouth hanging open for who knows how long. Did you just fire me? Because I'm good at what I do for you. Despite the fact I'd died doing it one point five times now.
No. You're not fired. Three dots. A black screen. Three dots. I'm scared.
I don't know what I thought he'd say, but that certainly wasn't it. I spent another few minutes gaping like a fool. Can I call you?
No.
I attempted a lame joke. Want me to go back to sleep so we can hang out in my dreams?
I'm sorry.
I was completely at a loss. Before I could think what to say, he ended the conversation.
I need to go. Get some rest. Please be careful.
Are you okay? I asked again, realizing he never answered me the first time. My message was delivered but not read.
After a few minutes, I threw the phone across the room into a soft chair. I was angry, but not to the point of stupidly breaking my phone. Freaking magical men and their dang secrets and weird rules. I'm sorry? Really? After nearly tearing my head off, insisting that apologies must never happen between us he says he's sorry? So now what? What ridiculous magical consequence were we going to deal with next?
I wanted to punch him in the gut. To slap him across the face. To tear his shirt off and lick his chest. "Argh!"
I stomped into the bedroom and dressed in black tactical pants, black tee shirt, black hoodie, and black boots. I strapped on a holster, checked that my gun was loaded and snapped it in place. Added a knife strapped to my calf. Snatched up my phone and keys and pounded down the steps to the driveway.
My car wasn't there.
If any of my neighbors heard me stomping around muttering every curse word I could think of and making some up, they didn't give any indication. Thankfully, Mr. Jorgenson and his wife were both half deaf. I requested an Uber and paced back and forth like a weirdo until it came.
"You know, that Walmart is closed after midnight," the driver said.
"I know."
He examined my attire. "You going to rob the place?"
"I left my car there."
With one arm hooked over the back of the front seat, he continued peering at me skeptically.
"Okay, you got me. Truth is, the covert headquarters of a monster hunting operation exist in a sub-basement under the store. I'm pissed off and vibrating with pent up energy, so I'm going in to see if I can get an assignment at four a.m. because sinking a silver dagger into a rogue demon would go a long way toward making me feel better right now."
He grinned. He was cute in an aww, shucks sort of way. "I don't care if you're robbing the place. Just figured I'd ask to cover my butt in case I get arrested for aiding and abetting or something."
"I'm not robbing the place. You have it on the record."
"Imma watch the news tomorrow anyway, just in case." He backed out of the drive and, with pretty much zero traffic on the streets at that hour, we were in the Walmart parking lot in no time. "Where's your car?"
"Just let me out here. I'll walk the rest of the way."
"People might not think this is a real job, but you meet all the most interesting people."
"I relate to that more than you can imagine."
"Good luck," he said. "Stay low. Keep your head down so the cameras can't see your face."
"Not a robber."
"I understand."
I paid him and started walking.
He lingered.
I stood my ground and waved goodbye.
He drove to the gas station down the road and parked.
Good lord. Can't a girl just go to work? I stuffed my hands in my hoodie pouch and started walking across the parking lot. If I crossed the side street that ran next to the store, I could circle through a residential neighborhood and approach the store from the back. However, about halfway across, a familiar black Lincoln pulled in and headed straight toward me.
Moose rolled to a stop and lowered his window. "What are you doing?"
"I didn't have a car. My nosey Uber driver is watching from that parking lot over there. What are you doing?"
"Slept all day. Got restless. Hop in."
I did as he said, and we made a wide circle around the neighborhood. By the time we returned, the Uber was nowhere to be found so Moose drove to the back of the store and into the parking garage.
As the elevator descended, I confessed to my coworker. "I'm hoping for a skip that will give me an opportunity to get violent."
"Yup."
"How does your husband deal with all this?" I still couldn't quite picture the man who'd capture Moose's heart.
"Not well."
"Fair."
"Yup."
The doors open and Mx. Landry peered through the window at us. Took you long enough. Rider and Scoob were here two hours ago.