Page 2 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

Werewolves aren’t weird, and we aren’t creepy things that go bump in the night and feed off the world, then howl at the moon. We literally just take care of the Earth and make sure bad juju doesn’t happen. Ergo, my brother, who is literally half Fallen Angel and half human and the King of the Soil, aka the Earth. So, what he says goes. All werewolves bow to him and hisauthority to make sure no bad things come to the world and try to bring on mass destruction via Fallen Angels and immortals fighting against humans. Like the Garden of Eden. Don’t even get me started on that fallout.

And then there’s me.

Someone who can hear everyone’s thoughts, someone who knows I need to protect everything, but also someone without a fucking purpose.

I serve drinks. I help others. I mean, I even helped an old lady with her groceries, and I didn’t even growl.

The point is, life is fleeting for humans. Mine, however? Lasts like hundreds of years, and all my friends are married, which sucks. Because, again…time. And now I’m about five seconds away from getting puked on by the guy in front of me.

“It just sucks, bro!” he yells.

“Yes, it does suck a dick.” I nod. “Tell me more.” My ability to keep a straight face is stellar. I don’t even think about it anymore, just nod and smile while words and sometimes puke gets thrown in my direction. It’s a gift, what can I say?

“And then she was all like, ‘I’ll kill you!’” The guy slams his hand against the bar top and looks up as if he can see the Heavens themselves. “All I wanted was a sandwich.”

“Violent.” I nod in agreement. “Very violent. And I am a fan of sandwiches so I apologize I can’t meet your needs right now.”

“But, bro…” He wipes another tear from his cheek, then grabs a napkin and blows his nose, tossing the tissue onto the bar. I quickly shove it off and into the trash. “She was right, and I like her violence.”

“Maybe”—I lean in—“the journey you need to take is more violent than others. Or maybe she just doesn’t like you, bro.” She literally does not like him. And I’m beginning to see why.

“No!” He jumps to his feet and thrusts his fist into the air. “I’ll fight for her.”

“Yay. Go get her,” I encourage as he falls to his knees and passes out. “Go, get your woman…man…person—” I pause. “Cricket, spider, demon. Whatever the hell you are—”

“Stop manifesting.” Timber, my boss, the actual Egyptian God of the Underworld, shows up next to me with his perfectly pressed navy suit and white-blond hair. Bet he even gets manicures. But I don’t want him to smite me, so I say nothing. “It’s weird. And also, you can’t mate a cricket with a spider. The biology is all off. Just allow him to pass out like a normal human, then phase him out, grab him a car make sure he has only happy memories from your phasing so he comes back to the bar, and then get back to work.”

Ah, immortals. Gotta love them. Even when you want to murder them half the time.

“But I hate phasing,” I grumble under my breath. “It makes them forget everything, and I feel like shit because they just repeat all their bad choices, and I get to witness it. Oh, shit. It’s likeGroundhog Day. Or is thatFreaky Friday?”

He sighs. “Freaky Fridayis where they switch bodies.Groundhog Dayis where the day goes on repeat. Why am I even engaging in this conversation right now?” He rolls his creepy blue eyes and wraps his knuckles on the bar top. “Phasing is necessary if you want the human to stay sane. They can only handle so much of the nectar we put in our liquor. Plus, who wants to remember puking on the ground and getting accidentally sucked on by a demon?”

“Nobody,” I answer truthfully. “I think it even makes you sad, and you have no heart.”

“But”—he winks—”thanks to my wife, gorgeous goddess that she is, I do have a soul.”

“So do I. But I didn’t need to wander in the Egyptian desert for thousands of years to find it. Weren’t you on your hands and knees in the sand for years—and years andyears?”

He growls, “Low blow.”

“I like blowing.”

“Wow.” He checks his watch. “I’m late for dinner. Lock up when you clean up the drunkenness. You’re coming over, right? Or are you staying late for guys’ night?”

He has a home with a family. I have a grumpy roommate who is still trying to bring himself to understand the modern world. I swear he nearly shat his pants when he saw a microwave. Ancient Gods like Horus need a manual, though he did manage to conquer TikTok.

Home. I wonder what that’s really like. Everyone has their person. Did I mention Timber forced Horus to become my roommate so I could help him? But now that Horus has his person, it’s just me, all alone in a sad, depressing room. That’s why I work late. What’s the point of home if you don’t truly have one? What’s the point of going to an empty room and existing? I’ve worked for Timber for the last eighteen months, helped save his life, and now I just get to hear people’s thoughts, see their futures, and realize I have none.

Wow, shit just got dark.

“Nah, man.” I shake my head. “Might go hunt.”

“So, you’re going to Taco Bell?”

“They give good chalupa.” I shrug because nothing sounds more depressing than sitting on the sidewalk outside Taco Bell and people-watching.

He sighs. Yup, I’ve officially driven Anubis—aka Timber—insane. Feels kind of right, though.

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