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“Not moody, huh?” Tess asked. “So, what, this is just your face now?” She scrunched up her own in an imitation of what mine must have looked like.

“I don’t look like that.”

“Like I should be warning the local villagers to get inside and board up their windows? Hate to break it to you, babe, but you totally do.” Then, in a softer voice, “Come on. What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Nothing is going on. I’m running late.”

“You’re four hours early.”

“Because I’m going in early.”

“Again? Why?”

“There’s a lot more work to be done now, with all the merch and advertising. It’s a lot.”

“Well, you probably won’t have to worry about that for long.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s been, what, three days since Madison called into Silas’s show? People are not happy. Ratings are going to free fall soon. I mean, not that I can blame her. It must get old arguing with The Broodfather. But the station isn’t going to commit so much ad revenue and time to a show that is starting to fail.”

I’d been avoiding all things Silas since the kiss. Even just walking near his studio made desire gnaw at me so strongly that I had to flee in the opposite direction. I hadn’t been keeping an eye on the ratings and comments like I should have.

Of course, things weren’t going well if there was no more SilMad content to feed to the ravenous fans.

I had to call in again.

Even if the thought of that had my stomach twisting enough to make me regret the pumpkin spice bread I’d had for breakfast.

“Well, uh, let’s hope for the station’s sake that things pick up. Finally!” I snatched my phone from between the couch cushions. “I’m out.”

“Try not to tick off the villagers. They’ll gather, bring out the pitchforks, and strap you to a stake. And I’m not in the mood to have to fight them all, okay? I just got my nails done.”

I waved off her comments and rushed to the door, glad to have a busy day to look forward to. There had to be a million little tasks I could busy myself with. That wasn’t even counting the dozens of drop-ins I would be getting from everyone who didn’t get to see me much face-to-face.

It would keep my mind busy.

And if I played it right, I could be out of the studio before Silas even came in.

Then, well, I could decide to possibly call in to the show while walking around the block. If I called at all.

I wasn’t sure it was worth it anymore.

I’d been completely blocked with my book since the night of the office party, so it wasn’t like I had inspiration as a motivation to keep The Midnight Frequency going.

There was no reason to feel guilty about giving up my Madison alter ego. It wasn’t like it was my fault that Silas couldn’t put on a show that captivated listeners without the banter between some anonymous repeat caller.

Okay.

Maybe Tess was right. I was taking my foul mood a little far.

I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and plastered a smile I didn’t feel on my face as I made my way through the doors.

That early in the day, it wasn’t Grum who greeted me. Even the station’s favorite messy-haired romance novel lover had to get some sleep on occasion.

In his place was a human. The only other one who worked at the station, aside from me. But he’d grown up in a demon-worshipping cult out in the desert somewhere, so he was pretty comfortable with all the paranormal stuff. He was tall and so thin he was almost gaunt, with dyed black hair, tattoos, and gauged ears. He wore a graphic tee from an undead rock band and had leather bracelets stacked up one wrist.

“Hello, fellow human,” he greeted me, his pierced lip curving up.