So Miri breaks eye contact, looks away, at the cars whizzing past, and tries to swallow past the guilt. She did nothing wrong, but still, it writhes around in her gut.
After a long moment, Katya exhales forcefully and straightens her shoulders, like she’s fitting herself back into a mold she can accept. “Did you check out the humans? Were they okay?”
“The one I saw was perfectly fine,” Miri says, though the weirdness sits poorly. “I mean...he looked fine. The succubi said he was fine. I saw Thaler, for a brief second.”
Katya nods, warring between her official business expression and the crumpled-up face of a scared girl.
“The succubi says he’s been scared to go outside, because his wife passed away.” Miri tries to couch it in the gentlest of terms. “Says he has a child he protects.”
It feels odd, to say everything so nicely, when everything felt so wrong in the house, but Katya gets her normal color back with each passing word. “And the neighbors?”
“There’d be no way the neighbors would be able to hear anything, so I don’t know.”
Katya briefly closes her eyes and makes a motion to stand again, but doesn’t. “I’m going to have to write him up for charming me, that’s not legal,” she says, her voice tinged with a bit of prickly apology.
“Oh, he was in so many violations,” Miri says, and is rewarded by a small smile. “Good interior designing skills, but so many violations.”
Another car zooms past them, and Katya tracks it. “When was the last time you’ve encountered another one?” She asks, her voice much quieter and more tentative than Miri would have liked. “I know it’s not allowed, but...”
“There’s one who lives in Compton, I see him occasionally at bars, but he works in a fancy hotel and gets a lot of girls that way,” Miri says, because Katya is asking and she owes at least that answer. “He’s the only one who’s, you know, not dead.”
For a split second, it’s as if Katya doesn’t remember the demigod slaughter spree, before she nods in understanding.
Miri heaves a sigh, the traffic near them fast and kicking up dirt. “I’m so gonna get ice cream tonight, do you want some?” Katya shakes her head no, so Miri leans back, stretching out as much as she can without being in the street.
They sit there, both of them silent, with Katya unconsciously rubbing her shoulder before she sighs again. “You’re gonna have to write up a report, they’re gonna send someone with more backup.”
“Yeah,” Miri says, thinking of the soft affectionate kiss the man had placed on the succubi. “Someone’s gonna have to look into it.”
Finally, Katya stands, brushing off the magnitude of dust off her suit, her face grim but firmly official.
* * *
By the timeshe’s back in town enough to get to the ice cream joint, it’s past eight PM and she’s so desperate to be out of her work uniform that she changes in her car before walking into the gelato shop.
And, of course, because her life can’t be simple and easy, there’s a quickly growing-familiar shock of dusty brown hair sitting against the wall, playing on his phone.
For a split second she tenses, seeing Thomas sit casually against the wall and play on his phone, before he looks up, his eyes a normal, clear blue.
They have a moment, where two people who weren’t expecting to see each other in public do so, before he smiles, wide and friendly. “So that’s why he left me here after ordering.”
She sets her purse down with a thump, feeling all the stress and fear of the day just melt through her shoes. “Oh thank god it’s you and not your roommate,” she says, flopping into the chair.
“Eh, he’s not that bad,” Thomas says with a shrug. “Has he bothered you?”
And that’s certainly a question.
“Well...” Miri trails off, and gets rewarded with another wide smile from Thomas. “He scared the shit out of my friends and then got them to let me feed again, so your mileage may vary.”
“I’m gonna pretend to understand what you said but yeah.” He pushes a small ice cream across the table to her, like the Archdemon had the thought to order for her and everything. “Sorry it got melty.”
She has a brief internal struggle, before she grabs the gelato anyways. “You got me ice cream, you’re fine.” She takes a bite, and it’s lemon sorbet.
There’s a pause, the sort of wary thing where both people don’t know what to say.
“So your roommate said he cured you of cancer?” She says, because starting with the uncomfortable is her strong suit.
To his credit, he nods, his face not changing. “First thing he did, before we even did the whole...” he gestures at all of himself, “thing. Which was cool.”