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The short hall opens into a distressed, dimly-lit parlor. Seated on one of the two small couches separated by a turned-over coffee table is a large figure with faintly red eyes. Pollux.
He barely looks human.
Fear eats away at my insides, but I fight the tremors pouring through my body and carve a smile onto my face. He looks through me, rests an elbow on the armrest beside him, and uses one long leg to kick the table in front of him upright. After taking a deep inhale, he murmurs, “I don’t eat meat.”
Willow sets the paper bag of alcohol on the table and sits across from him on the other couch, setting the to-go bag in her lap. “This is for Zy.”
I plant myself in the spot beside Willow and clasp my hands together in my lap. I wish my pantsuit weren’t so constricting. It feels like I can’t breathe.
Behind me, a grandfather clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
Before me, Pollux lifts the bag, peels the paper down, and grunts at the skull-shaped bottle. “Why?”
“It’s cute.”
“It’s not.”
“Your opinion is hilarious.”
“I’m not made for comedy.” He sets the bottle down. “What do you want?”
“What do I always want?”
His eyes roll, and he grumbles, “To chat. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not your therapist.”
“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re a very good therapist. Cheap, too.”
“Crystal Head Vodka isn’t cheap.”
“By comparison, it is. My mental health is priceless.”
“I wish I could say I preferred you when you were more afraid of me.”
Willow’s teeth flash in a vicious grin. “Pity you can’t, isn’t it? Have I grown on you like mold?”
The barest touch of a smile softens the large man’s lips. “Don’t flatter yourself, dear.” Without looking my way, he flicks a finger at me. “Why?”
“As though you aren’t aware on some level.”
“She smells like the runt.”
“An apt observation.”
“Also, cluelessness.”
“She’s yet to be claimed.” Willow hums again and lifts a shoulder. “Your skills of perception never cease to amaze me.”
“Your agility with sarcasm consistently does.” His red eyes flick to me. “She won’t really remember this encounter. Even if I’ve lessened the effects of my glamour in an effort to appear almost human to her, I cannot be bothered to drop it enough to be memorable once I’ve left her perception. Since she has yet to be claimed, all of this will melt off her mind like frost in sunlight.”
“The outline of a dream.” Willow crosses her arms, and…and she frightens me. Something about her is so cunning and feral, I can barely force down a breath. “But someone will know, won’t he?”
Pollux scoffs, swipes his hand over his eyes, and grins—almost sharp teeth on horrific display.
I wish I could comprehend what’s going on, but my heart won’t stop racing, and my mind feels like it’s about to overheat. Whatever is happening, it exists in a world separate from the one I know. A world where for every one thing that makes sense, seven more do not. It’s a wonderfully complicated world.
And somehow, for some reason, parts of me long for it.
“What’s your goal, Willow?” Pollux murmurs. “You aren’t malicious enough to torment your friends without some deeper purpose.”
