Chapter 10 #2
Ramona shrugged. “There are still specialty shops over near Thornwood. I can look some up.”
“That would be helpful. And the hawthorn branches have to be cut at midnight. Do you know where hawthorn trees grow around here?”
“Not off the top of my head. But I’m sure the internet knows.”
Zara’s patience was starting to fray, just slightly. “We need trees that are magically active. Which requires actual botanical knowledge, not internet searches. We need to ask Posey.”
“We can figure it out without dragging my poor roommates any further into it than we need to.” Ramona stood up, clearing her plate. “I need to get ready for work anyway. My shift starts at two.”
Zara didn’t say anything. But Ramona could feel her disappointment through the tether.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I talked to Marcus today,” Ramona said as she and Zara walked into the bedroom later that evening. “Told him I need the twenty-eighth off. He was surprisingly cool about it.”
“Good.” Zara sat at the desk again. She pulled some books out of the pockets of her suit again.
She’d insisted on taking five or six to the coffee shop with her.
Apparently she’d told the baristas she was studying for the bar, and they’d given her free coffee all day.
“Did you have time to look up those supply shops?”
“Not yet. It was busy at work,” Ramona lied, trying to conceal it by keeping her heart rate even and her emotions neutral.
“Of course.” Zara’s tone was careful as well. “Maybe this weekend?”
“Maybe.”
Before the awkward silence could settle too heavily, Felix knocked on the open door with Gerald on his shoulder and a bag of microwave popcorn in each hand.
“Movie night!” he announced. “Mandatory fun time. Everyone’s been too serious lately and it’s killing the vibe.”
“I should really—” Ramona started.
“Nope. No excuses.” Felix was already setting up the TV.
“Kashvi’s bringing candy. Posey’s making her special brownies — the regular kind, not the fun kind, before anyone asks.
Cammie’s closing tonight but she’ll be here by eight.
We’re watching the worst horror movie I could find, and I will not be taking questions. It’s called Hex of Kin.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Zara said from the dining table.
Felix’s eyes lit up. “Even better. It’s fantastic. You’re going to hate it.”
Ramona sighed, but she could feel the tension in her shoulders loosening slightly. Maybe a break would be good. Maybe they both needed to stop thinking about severance rituals and medieval languages for a few hours.
“Fine,” Ramona said. “But I’m not sitting through any torture porn.”
“It’s a classic family haunted house movie. Very respectable.” Felix dumped popcorn into a bowl. “Now, get comfortable. Gerald has strong opinions about seating arrangements.”
Somehow, through a combination of Felix’s orchestration and Gerald’s insistent cooing, Ramona and Zara ended up on the couch together. Not touching, but close enough that Ramona was hyperaware of every shift in Zara’s position.
Kashvi arrived with enough candy to supply a small army.
Posey emerged from the kitchen with brownies that smelled like heaven.
They arranged themselves around the living room — Kashvi and Posey on the floor with cushions, Felix in the armchair with Gerald settling onto the armrest like a tiny feathered gargoyle.
The movie started.
Within ten minutes, Zara was frowning at the screen. “Why would they buy a house that’s clearly malevolent?”
“Because it’s cheap,” Felix said through a mouthful of popcorn.
“That’s not a valid reason. The structural damage alone would cost more than—”
“Shh,” Kashvi hissed. “Scary part.”
Zara watched the family explore the creepy basement with growing consternation. When they inevitably split up, she made a sound of disgust. “That’s tactically unsound,” she muttered.
Ramona bit back a smile. “It’s a horror movie. They always split up.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise the movie would be twenty minutes long,” Felix joked.
“That would be an improvement,” Zara muttered so only Ramona could hear.
On screen, something jumped out. Kashvi screamed. Posey threw popcorn at the TV. Felix was cackling with delight.
Zara leaned closer to Ramona. “Is that supposed to be frightening?”
“For most people, yes.”
“It’s just poor planning. If they had stayed together and brought adequate lighting—”
“You’re thinking about this too hard.”
“I’m thinking about it the correct amount.” But Zara was smiling now, just slightly. “This is absurd.”
Another jump scare. This time Ramona flinched, and suddenly Zara’s hand was on her arm, steadying, protective.
“It’s not real,” Zara said quietly.
“I know that.”
Zara moved her hand away, but Ramona could still feel the warmth of where her touch had been.
Gerald chose that moment to hop down from the armrest and waddle across the room. He climbed onto the couch with surprising agility and settled directly on Zara’s shoulder, as if claiming his rightful perch.
“Oh, of course,” Felix said. “Gerald’s picking his favorite again.”
“He has excellent taste,” Zara replied, reaching up to gently stroke Gerald’s head. The pigeon cooed contentedly.
The movie continued. Ramona found herself explaining horror movie logic — why characters always investigate strange noises, why they never just leave, why the phone always dies at the worst moment.
Zara asked genuine questions, trying to understand the internal consistency of a genre built on people making terrible decisions.
“So, the entire plot depends on no one acting rationally?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“That’s terrible storytelling.” Zara shook her head, but she was leaning closer, watching the TV with a riveted gaze.
“That’s horror movies,” Posey said.
Zara sighed. “I prefer demon possession narratives. At least those follow logical rules.”
Ramona choked on her popcorn, and Zara patted her on the back.
Somewhere around the halfway point, Ramona realized they’d shifted closer together. Zara’s arm was pressed against hers, Gerald still perched on her shoulder, creating a warm weight between them. It felt… comfortable. Natural.
Felix caught her eye from across the room and grinned knowingly. Ramona looked away quickly.
By the time the movie ended — with the obligatory “it’s not really over” final scare — Posey was half asleep on the floor and Kashvi was clutching a pillow like a shield.
“That was terrible,” Zara announced with a smile. “I hated every minute.”
“Same time next week?” Felix asked.
“Count me in.”
They started cleaning up — collecting empty candy wrappers, stacking bowls, arguing about whether the movie was actually scary or just startling. Ramona was carrying mugs to the kitchen when she noticed Kashvi showing something to Posey on her phone.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing,” Kashvi said too quickly.
Posey was smiling a little too innocently.
Ramona eyed them both skeptically.
“Felix snapped a cute photo and sent it to the group chat.” Kashvi turned the phone around.
The photo showed exactly what she’d described — Ramona and Zara on the couch, leaned against each other, both of them smiling at something on screen, Gerald on Zara’s shoulder. They looked… they looked like a real couple.
“Felix!” Ramona shrieked, eliciting another round of laughter from the trio of roommates.
But when she checked her phone, there it was. The photo, followed by a string of messages:
Kashvi: LOOK AT THEM
Posey: I’m not saying anything but I’m saying EVERYTHING
Cammie: sorry i missed movie night but this makes up for it
Felix: our girl is so embarrassing and i love it
Ramona shoved her phone in her pocket, face burning. Back in her room, Zara was reading something on her HellBerry, a small smile playing at her lips. “Gerald photographs very well. Very dignified.”
“Wait, how did you—” Ramona quickly checked the group chat, finding a strange number.
“Felix added me about a week ago. Said if I’m going to be here for a while, I should at least get all the information.” Zara looked up.
“I’d have really thought Hell’s area code would start with 666,” Ramona remarked, saving the number. It hadn’t occurred to her that their phones could connect, for some reason.
“A common misconception, but it’s a little too on the nose, don’t you think?” Zara grinned.
Ramona rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you think Gerald looks dignified.”
“He’s the most photogenic of the three of us.” Zara shrugged, but there was just the slightest hint of a mischievous grin at the corner of her mouth.
Ramona wanted to argue, but Zara was looking at her with that grin, making her chest feel too full and her thoughts go fuzzy around the edges.
“We should probably sleep,” Ramona said. “Big research day tomorrow.”
The words felt hollow even as she said them.
She’d been saying some version of that for days now — tomorrow we’ll figure it out, tomorrow we’ll try harder — while carefully avoiding the stacks of books Zara had been poring over.
Avoiding the moment when she’d have to actually try to solve this and risk failing. Again.
Dr. Ramona Greenbriar, who couldn’t even break a simple summoning bond. Who would probably misread some fundamental principle, make some embarrassingly basic mistake that any first-year could have caught. The thought made her stomach clench.
“Probably.” But neither of them moved.
Around them, her roommates went to bed. Doors closing. Lights going off. The distant sound of Kashvi and Posey still giggling.
“Thank you,” Zara said quietly. “For tonight. I needed… I needed not to think about rituals and spellwork phrases for a while.”
“Me too.”
But looking at Zara now — this demon who’d had her entire existence upended, who’d been nothing but patient while Ramona hid behind retail shifts and avoidance — something shifted in Ramona’s chest. A small, stubborn ember of the person she used to be.
The one who’d spent twelve-hour days in Thornwood’s archives, who’d defended a dissertation on medieval language root morphology, who liked impossible puzzles.
Zara had spent hours researching today, methodically working through texts while Ramona buried herself in rearranging a display of “Lucky Charms” as Marcus had requested.
Zara, who had every right to be furious, who could have demanded Ramona fix this immediately, had instead enjoyed a night off from thinking about it.
Tomorrow, Ramona decided. Tomorrow she’d actually open those books. Actually try. Not because she thought she’d succeed — she was still terrified she wouldn’t — but because Zara deserved someone who would at least try.
The moment lingered between them until Zara settled into the chair.
“You know, you can sleep in the bed when you’re done researching for the night,” Ramona said. “In case you have any more… you know, nightmares or something.”
Zara turned, giving her a small nod, then her gaze went back to the book in front of her.