Tomorrow, at last. Breakfast is… normal.

  Too normal for a house where, just a few hours ago, I learned that demons exist.

  And where I also learned that automotive technology does not accept mockery.

  Toast. Coffee. Elisabeth cuts fruit with almost excessive precision. Lorcan is leaning against the counter, looking at his phone. He seems to be checking his email. Only then do I notice he’s holding a slice of the fruit Elisabeth was cutting. I don’t remember seeing him get up.

  “Lorcan, no tricks at the table,” Elisabeth says without looking away from her cup.

  “I’m not on the table,” Lorcan replies.

  Elisabeth lets out a short sigh.

  She’s sitting across from me, dressed in an elegant outfit, as if she’s been awake for hours.

  “You look impeccable, Mrs. Elisabeth,” I say, just to say something.

  “You like it?” she replies. “I’m meeting some clients later and I need to impress them.”

  “Clients?”

  Elisabeth smiles indulgently. She seems to read my mind.

  “I’m an art and crafts curator,” she adds. “I’m not going to enchant anyone.”

  “At least not today,” Lorcan says from the counter.

  Elisabeth rolls her eyes, as if asking for patience.

  “Besides,” she continues, “someone has to maintain the family fortune.”

  “The Council gives us a stipend just for existing,” Lorcan interrupts. “Anything beyond that is basically a hobby.”

  “Lorcan.”

  “Mother.”

  “Silence.”

  I can’t help but laugh at the exchange. My curiosity wins.

  “And what kind of pieces do you deal with? Magical ones?”

  “Not necessarily. Art pieces, old artifacts, cultural items… I also do consulting for buying and selling. Even for the Faith.”

  The Faith. Considering what I’ve heard about the Faith and mages and witches and the like, it surprises me how casually she says she works with them. Times have changed, I guess. Or I want to believe they have.

  “Tell me, Elena,” Elisabeth says, suddenly looking at me sharply. “Do you have any contacts within the Faith?”

  I’m pretty sure even Lorcan stops looking at his phone to glance at me.

  “What kind of contacts?”

  “Nothing specific. Any family member, or someone you know who works with them or for them.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Well… my brother…”

  Lorcan is definitely looking at me now.

  “The one that split your head open with a baseball bat?” he says.

  “The one that did ?” repeat Elisabeth, horrified.

  “It was just an accident during a game” I say.

  Elisabeth's horror morphs into curiosity. She sets her cup down.

  “Anyways, does your brother work for the Faith?”

  “I think so… I mean, I haven’t seen him in six years. After our parents died, a few days before that he told me he got a job with them. After the funeral he left and we lost almost all contact.” I take a sip of coffee. “I only know he’s still alive and he sends me a basket of fruit every year for my birthday.”

  “I see…”

  Elisabeth goes back to her coffee. The silence stretches a little longer than necessary. Then she stands up, grabs her purse, puts on dark round sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat.

  “Well, it’s time for me to go,” she announces. “But before that—” she turns to me, “—I wanted to give you something.”

  She takes a small box out of her purse and hands it to me. I open it. Inside is a beautiful silver ring with black stones I don’t recognize. They seem to absorb light.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say.

  “This is a severance ring,” Elisabeth says.

  I look at her, confused. She continues.

  “I don’t have time to explain all the details now, but it will be useful to you. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you feel cold and that pulling sensation of a possession, focus and touch this ring. It will cut the possession and dim your beacon for a while.”

  “That’s amazing!” I say, hope blooming in my chest.

  “But…” she continues, “it’s an emergency tool. It’s not meant for constant use. It disperses your energy and leaves you very weak.”

  “That’s… less amazing,” I admit, deflating a little.

  Elisabeth laughs.

  “I’m warning you. Only for emergencies, and with backup on the way. The effect lasts a good while, depending on how deep the attempt was.”

  “I understand. Thank you very much, Mrs. Elisabeth. I’ll be careful.”

  “You won’t need it today.”

  It’s Lorcan, speaking from the counter.

  “Why are you so sure?” I ask.

  “Because today I won’t be far,” he replies, looking straight at me.

  An hour later, I’m in my room, surrounded by bags of clothes and the few things I brought with Lorcan last night. As always, I do one last check before leaving.

  “Keys, laptop, tablet, pencil, headphones, wallet… emergency makeup, tissues, sanitizer, stun gun.”

  “You won’t need the taser today,” a voice says from the door.

  It’s Lorcan. He has the bad habit of entering without knocking.

  “What you need is a bell,” I say. “Or at least to warn people before you walk in.”

  “I already walked in.”

  “That’s exactly the problem.”

  I show him the ring on my finger, the black stones against my skin.

  “According to you, I don’t need the ring either,” I add. “But I’m still wearing it.”

  I grab my phone. Lorcan steps closer.

  “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m calling a taxi. Campus is too far away to walk.”

  “No need. I’ll take you.”

  I look at him, surprised. He raises the keys in his hand like it’s the final argument in a debate.

  “Really? I thought you’d have better things to do.”

  “Not for a while. Until the Council gives me a mission, I can do whatever I want.”

  “Does that include being a chauffeur?”

  “It includes whatever I decide.”

  I look at him for another second.

  “And… you want to take me?”

  “Do you want a free ride or not?”

  I don’t have a monthly stipend or a family fortune. I’m not stupid.

  “I gladly accept,” I say.

  Lorcan smiles. He presses a button on the key fob, and I can hear the beast waking up, even from my room.

  “There’s just one thing I want to ask,” I say. “I need you to drop me off at my apartment.”

  “Why?”

  He genuinely looks confused. I look at him like the answer should be obvious.

  “Because I don’t want the entire college to see me getting out of a… ‘high-performance demonic family car.’”

  He frowns slightly, clearly not understanding the social implications.

  “I’ve spent my whole life using public transport,” I continue.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And suddenly I show up arriving in the passenger seat of a family car.”

  “A family car with six hundred and thirty horsepower.”

  “Exactly. And wouldn’t that seem… weird?”

  Lorcan processes this. No visible conclusion.

  “Maybe you just got a boyfriend with a nice car.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “Are you my boyfriend?”

  “We didn’t discuss it.”

  “ you?”

  “No. But nobody else knows that.”

  I sigh.

  “Just drop me at my apartment, please. Back entrance. Service alley. No roaring.”

  “All right,” he says. “No roaring.”

  (For now.)