Page 151 of Unholy Obsession

“Moira.” Her voice sharpens. “Whereareyou?”

I exhale through my nose. “Austin. Travis County Jail, to be exact.”

A beat of silence. Then?—

“Oh my god, Moira. What the hell happened?”

A muscle in my jaw twitches. I glance up at the officer, who’s now all but tapping his foot.

“Nothing exciting,” I mutter. “Just… I might have mistaken a mounted cop’s horse for a unicorn. And then, uh, tried to ride her off into the sunset.”

My eyes flick to the dull gray walls and the rows of empty plastic chairs in the waiting area beyond the payphone. A vending machine hums in the corner, blinking a red ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign.

I hate gray.

I stare down at my scuffed Mary Janes. “Turns out she wasn’t a unicorn. And I wasn’t exactly sober.”

I don’t mention the part where I’m pretty sure someone dosed my drink with Special K at some point in the night.

Like, yeah, things can get shimmery when I get that bouncy manic shine, and sometimes I think I’m a re-incarnated oracle from an ancient, alien civilization, seeing everything at once but forgetting it at the same time in some terrible form of karmic punishment.

But last night wentextra dextra, and it’s just a whole disjointed mess of colors and laughter and then—cold, gray walls.

Did I mention I hate gray? There are justsomany other colors to choose from.

“Moira,” she sighs. “I’ll be there soon. Give me a few hours, okay?”

“Yeah.” I drop my head back. “Thanks, Kira.”

I hang up before my throat can close up again.

Officer McGrouchy-Pants jerks his chin, ushering me back to the cell where my new, temporary family is waiting.

I smile and wave at Big Mama, the plus-size sex worker who cradled me in her lap last night like a drunk little baby bird. She blows me a kiss as she’s led out for her own phone call, and I mime catching it. Damn, she’s a good cuddler.

Making friends wherever I go is one of my few talents.

If only I could keep them.

I sink down onto the cold bench, pressing the heels of my hands into my burning eyes. My head is still foggy, but fragments of last night flicker through the haze. The unicorn. The way the world glowed—the streetlights haloed, the laughter like wind chimes. The officer’s stunned face as I vaulted onto his horse?—

Backward.

Her tail was so pretty, though.

I huff out a soundless laugh, but it fades fast. Because when I woke up this morning?—

No unicorn. No magic.

No Bane.

Just cement walls, iron bars, and the yawning, endless ache where he used to be.

I slump against the wall, exhaustion sinking into my bones. Man, I’d give my left arm for a Barcalounger. Hell, even one of those crusty office chairs with lumbar support.

I must doze off at some point because the next thing I know?—

CLANG.

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