I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss.

  It was stupid. It was science, apparently, a necessary test to prove that my ability to nullify the supernatural extended beyond just bad vibes and flickering shadows. But that didn’t change the fact that Elly’s lips had been soft, warm, lingering, and now I was stuck in the world’s worst mental loop, constantly replaying the sensation, the taste, the quiet hum of static it had left in my skull.

  And the worst part? Elly acted like nothing had happened.

  She sat across the room, legs tucked up on the arm of my couch, flipping through a magazine like she wasn’t an elf. She was still the same cool, confident Elly—just without the glamour that had disguised her ears and claws. The "human" fa?ade she’d been using had dropped completely, like a curtain falling. She’d temporarily lost her powers, and I wasn’t sure how long it would last. Apparently, neither was she.

  So, she’d decided to wait it out at my apartment. Which meant I had to wait. Which meant we were both stuck here, together, while I tried to work remotely and not think about how her lips had felt or how I was still semi-hard just remembering.

  I tapped my fingers against the keyboard, pretending to focus on the document open in front of me. Greg had been surprisingly easy to convince about the whole remote-work thing, mostly because of the ongoing weirdness at Elysium Solutions. It probably didn’t hurt that he’d seen what had happened to me. When your employee is dragged into some kind of Lovecraftian horror show at your company office and might be engaged in some sort of polyamorous love life situation with three literal smoke-show ladies, you tend to be a little lenient on their work schedule.

  So now I was home. Working. Allegedly.

  In reality, I was sneaking glances at the window—and at Elly, lounging in my hoodie and a pair of fuzzy socks she’d stolen like a magpie with a thing for cozy loungewear. She looked absurdly comfortable. Dangerously so. I would never get that hoodie back. And I wasn’t even mad about it.

  The shadowy things I’d been glimpsing for the past few days—small, flickering creatures with too many eyes and the unsettling patience of something that enjoys waiting—hadn’t been my imagination. The girls had confirmed that much.

  They were spies, common little creeps that normally stayed veiled, watching the supernatural world move around them without anyone noticing. But I could see them. Which meant the Veil—the Eidolon—wasn’t functioning properly around me.

  Oil and water.

  I didn’t belong.

  And now, something was watching.

  I flicked my gaze to the wall near the window. Had I just seen something move? A shifting shadow, a ripple in the corner of my vision?

  I heard the soft shhff of a nail file from the couch.

  I glanced over admiringly, determined not to stare. She knew when I did, and she’d already caught me doing so several times.

  I flipped off my work and loaded up a game. Normally, gaming was my escape, but I’d been dreading this moment…

  My online gaming group had been pestering me daily about my new living situation. And by pestering, I mean relentlessly hounding me to spill the details about my three supposed "hot roommates" that had come up in passing conversation. By passing conversation I might mean that I’d been bragging again. The more I tried to change the subject or downplay it, the worse it got. So, tonight, after another round of interrogating messages, I finally gave in.

  AxeMaster69: You’re saying ur living with 3 hotties & none of them are murdering you / robbing ur kidneys?

  I smirked and typed back.

  Sir Dumpsalot: Apparently, I’m just that charming.

  pwnedURmom: Bullshit. Pics or it didn’t happen.

  xX420NoScopeXx: Seriously. We demand evidence of this alleged harem situation.

  I rolled my eyes. To be fair, my situation probably did sound made up, some sort of delusion or fantasy. But tonight, I was fed up.

  Sir Dumpsalot: Fine.

  I angled my laptop’s webcam toward the couch and took a quick screenshot.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Elly was still there, her legs curled up underneath her, reading a book and filing her nails. I could tell she wasn’t paying attention to me. Her hair an effortless bob that hung down to her jawline as she idly kicked her legs. She had her typical calm, aloof look about her—so far removed from the chaos of the game. It was peacefully candid.

  Sir Dumpsalot: Boom. Evidence.

  AxeMaster69: …okay, but how do we know that’s not just some random stock image of a hot girl in a hoodie sitting on a sofa that’s surprisingly nice for your shit apartment. Did you redecorate?

  pwnedURmom: Ask her to do something weird. Like, make a gang sign or something.

  I snorted. "Hey, Elly, can you throw up a gang sign for my gaming group?"

  She didn’t even look up. "Do I look like I’m in a gang?"

  “Maybe an elven one?” I suggested helpfully.

  She snorted.

  I turned back to my keyboard.

  Sir Dumpsalot: She refuses to engage in gang activity on account of you all being stupid for making such a suggestion.

  C00chieGoblin: Lame.

  pwnedURmom: Weak, dude. Weak.

  The messages were starting to pile up.

  I sat back in my chair, feeling proud of myself for shutting them down. But then it hit me. I stared at the screen.

  SilentWatcher: Her ears…

  Sir Dumpsalot: Shit.

  I froze.

  I had just sent that image to my gaming group without thinking. Elly wasn’t just a random girl in a hoodie. Elly’s glamour was down. Her ears—those delicate, gently-tapered points—were visible. Not fake. Not glued on. Real. I’d just uploaded an actual, honest-to-God elf photo to the internet.

  My nuts shrank up into my body like they were trying to climb back into the womb for protection.

  The group started typing back faster.

  AxeMaster69: Okay, but for real, this is like some LARP shit. Cosplay, right?

  xX420NoScopeXx: Yeah, dude, not buying it. Maybe she’s got some elf cosplay thing going on?

  pwnedURmom: Are you telling me you’re living with actual elves?

  I swallowed hard. Shit, I thought again.

  I glanced over at Elly, who was still completely unaware of what I had just done. My palms started sweating. My nuts shrank back up into my body. My mouth went dry. I felt like hurling my last three meals.

  This could be bad. Really bad.

  Her appearance was way too real, too otherworldly for anyone to think it was just a cosplay. If anyone saved that picture, even I would have trouble convincing myself that it wasn’t something supernatural.

  I frantically typed back.

  Sir Dumpsalot: Fuck. Sorry, that’s not… That’s not cosplay. I made a mistake. Ignore that. It’s—uh, it’s a weird joke. Just forget it.

  But by then, the group had already latched onto it.

  pwnedURmom: Dude, I knew it! You're into some weird supernatural kinky stuff!

  AxeMaster69: Okay, now we need to see some more proof. Maybe more elf pics? Give her a damn bow and arrows. Legolette.

  C00chieGoblin: Do not underestimate me, Father. I am taking notes.

  SilentWatcher: …

  I frowned at the last name. SilentWatcher rarely talked in chat. They’d been in the group for years, just another random player I’d picked up from a PVP match way back, but they mostly lurked.

  Now, though? They were watching. I got the weirdest feeling, a prickle down my spine.

  I closed the chat window, but the damage was done. Elly, who had been silently reading, glanced up at me, noticing my face go pale.

  "What’s wrong?" she asked, not noticing the full extent of my panic, certainly not the cause, either.

  “Elly,” I muttered. “I think I might have done something stupid.”

  She looked up, eyebrow raised. “Define stupid?”

  I couldn't even look at her right now. All I could think about was the fact that I'd just exposed a supernatural race to a group of online strangers. There was no way out of this one.

  Before I could explain, something twitched in the corner of my vision. I turned—and saw it. Something moved at the window. Not outside.

  Inside.

  I barely had time to register it before it scuttled—a blur of dark limbs and too many blinking eyes—skittering across the wall like some awful hybrid of a spider and a shadow.

  I jumped up, chair scraping against the floor. "What the hell—"

  Elly was already moving.

  Even with her dulled reflexes, she was fast. She lunged toward the wall, grabbing the nearest thing from one of my new designer end tables—a Star Wars coffee mug that had survived the purge—and hurled it at the shape.

  The mug shattered against the wall. The creature shrieked.

  "Gotcha." Elly’s voice was ice-cold, and for the first time since our kiss, I saw a spark of her old self—the huntress, the predator. Maybe her powers were returning…

  The thing on the wall twitched.

  It had nowhere to run.

  Elly advanced, grabbing a throw blanket from the couch. "Daniel, get the lights."

  I slammed the light switch. The room flooded with brightness. And now, with nothing to hide in, the creature was fully exposed.

  It was small—no bigger than a house cat—but wrong in every way. Its body was an inkblot, shifting between solid and shadow. Its eyes—too many of them—blinked in sickening, asynchronous patterns.

  And it was staring right at me.

  Elly threw the blanket. The creature let out another sharp, high-pitched noise before the fabric swallowed it up.

  She tackled it, pinning it down, and I was suddenly at her side, surprising even myself with my sudden alacrity, helping to wrap the bundle up tight.

  "What," I breathed, "the hell is that?"

  Elly, panting, tightened her grip on the squirming lump. "A problem." She tied the ends of the blanket together. "A spy fully in our world, because of you."

  My stomach turned.

  We’d known about the spy, but we still had no idea about whoever—or whatever—had been watching me through the veil. Beyond that, they weren’t just watching anymore. They were here in my apartment...

  Across the room, my screen flashed with a private message.

  SilentWatcher: Daniel. We need to meet. In person.

  “Shit.” I muttered.

  I’m such an idiot.