Page 81 of Seph

“Stop. Don’t tell me to leave. We can find something to do to kill time until the show at two.” She started to shovel food into her mouth, barely chewing.

“You’ll choke before you see the floorshow, Huntress.”

She nodded and slowed.

What did I use to do, waiting for the night, the hunt?

Sit. Stretch. Sleep. Eat the basic nutritional requirements. Whittle stakes. Sharpen knives. Study maps and obituaries, hack police files, check the investments my father and grandfather made.

Such a bland, tense existence. Days so boring and lonely I wanted to die, followed by nights full of fear and fighting as I tried to stay alive. No, not to stay alive. Just to kill them first, so no one else had to die. So that those lucky people who had families, loves,liveswouldn’t have to die.

“You make me mad sometimes.” She put down her fork. “But you make me happy, too. Alive. Happy to be alive.” She put the threads together, and they made a gorgeous little picture in her mind.

The Night Market.

Mr. Minegold’s violin music blending with Sophie’s cello when they played at Pumpkin Fest.

Running in the woods after Simeon.

Walking to him while he held out my favorite coffee.

The people who love me. Who called me a hero.

Do not fucking cry in the middle of this bewitched mythology-gone-wrong-reality-show, Van Helsing.

“Emmy, love—”

“I’ve done more living in half a year than I did for most of my life. I’m happy. You make me feel alive, too. Cliche or not, I don’t care right now.” She snapped a section of the golden, crispy waffle off and stuffed it in her mouth. “Can we order mimosas?”

“Absolutely.”

“To go?”

“Even better.”

They spent the day drinking mimosas spiked with Lethe’s Nectar, resting, watching Groundhog Day, and texting Mr. Minegold short, vague messages, which he replied to in kind.

Minegold: Standing by. Friends working on project continuously. Good results here.

Simeon: Good results here. Hopeful. We move soon. Beef up whatever you can.

Minegold: All the beef. The fairest cuts.

“What does that mean?” Emily looked at him.

“Fairest... Fair folk! The fae. Even the fae are helping. I don’t know how or who, but that’s pretty damn good. Their magic is very different, but it would rival a Titan’s. The fae are descendants of different gods, the Celtic ones, you know. ”

“I didn’t.”

“Hmm. Well. We can play professor and student later if you like.”

“More like study buddies. Come on. Almost two.” Emily drained her water bottle with her extra dose of Lethe’s Nectar.

He sucked the remains of a blood bag (heated in its casing in hot water until it was a lovely ninety-eight degrees) and tossed it back in the cooler. “Check the crystal?” He looked at Seph’s.

Still swirling slowly, dull and unlit.

Mnemosyne’s was bright and pulsing. Simeon stared at it a little longer this time. “Do you think it looks a bit more white than yellow this time? Now that we’re on the third floor as opposed to when we were outside?”

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