Except, she wouldn’t have erased them if she accepted him. In magicking away the reminder of what he was, she had taught him to hide a part of himself as well. I would have pointed it out, but the conscience I was growing in fits and starts warned me it was cruel and pointless. The past was past. The trick had served him well then and now. I had no right to accuse his mother of assassinating his self-acceptance.
“You’re not abnormal.” I fisted his shirt. “You’re you.” I flicked my attention back to his horns. “I like it.”
“Thank you,” he rasped, his palm cupping my cheek. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
By gesturing toward his horns, I avoided fielding his compliment. “Will you keep them?”
“No.” He dipped his chin. “Without them, I can pretend, for a little while, that I’m someone else.”
Halloween night came rushing back to me, along with his eagerness to dress up and trick-or-treat with us in town. I suspected then that he craved a sense of acceptance, of belonging, and this confirmed it as far as I was concerned. So, I didn’t push him the way I nudged Colby toward realizations colored by my past.
I questioned if his unwillingness to accept himself had splintered his personality until he and his daemon were two separate entities sharing one body. But I was learning, slowly, to pull back when I sensed a tender spot and not to exploit it as I had been raised to do.
The door swung open, and Clay stood there with a broom. “Everything good?”
“Yep.” I noticed he had removed his wig to prevent ruining it. “How’s cleaning?”
“As disgusting as you might expect.” He frowned at his ashy clothes. “We need to move to a hotel.”
Human witnesses would cut down on the likelihood the black witch would send more zombies after us. I wasn’t a fan of courting discovery—this witch didn’t seem to care about the rules—but I was also tired and hungry and ready to palm my forehead for not considering an undead creature could slip past my wards.
“Okay.” I eased past him. “I’ll start packing.”
“I’ll call…” Asa pulled out his phone then paused. “Make that the Kellies.”
Our backup was in the trash bags Clay was setting on the porch. Secondary teams often contained junior agents about to get their first taste of the life via cleaning up after primary teams. Poor suckers. I got the golden ticket on that front. Nepotism saved me from drudgework. Depending on how many agents were assigned to this area, we might have hours, or days to wait for help.
“I’m almost done with the worst of it.” Clay sneezed into his shoulder. “I put Colby on hotel detail. She’s probably got something by now.” He called up to the loft. “Status report.”
“Two suites booked at Rosemont Inn. They have a four-point-five-star rating, they’re thirty minutes from our present location, and they have high-speed internet.” She leaned over the edge. “Good enough?”
“Perfect, Shorty.” He gave her a thumbs-up, and she returned to her computer. “She’s like having a personal Kelly on the team. She’s a wiz.” He lowered his voice. “She gets to feel like an active member of the team while keeping her out of immediate danger. It’s a win/win, am I right?”
The idea of using her as tech support hadn’t occurred to me. It was brilliant. The best of both worlds.
“How is she paying for that?” I’d had her memorize my credit card number for emergency purchases, but I hoped she wasn’t using it. The insurance money hadn’t come in yet, and shop repairs were draining my balance dry. “As you might recall, my shop hasn’t reopened yet, so money is tight.”
“I gave her access to my black card.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to make you pay out of pocket.”
Black Hat agents got black cards from a witch-owned bank on a private paranormal finance network. The funds weren’t limitless, but they did fit the company aesthetic.
“Good.” I patted my hip. “There seems to be a hole in it.”
Chuckling, Clay got back to work, and I pitched in with Asa to do the best we could without proper supplies.
Since Colby had put on her headphones again, I texted her to tell her to pack it up, that she had an hour. Then I returned to my room to begin packing for the move to a—hopefully—more secure location.
A foul sensation overtook me as I opened the door, and the spit dried in my mouth.
On the bed, propped against the pillow, sat the Proctor grimoire.