Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ramona couldn’t sleep, even with the exhausting weight of what they had to do. Even with the soreness of her body after three orgasms.
She’d tried to sleep. Had closed her eyes. Had counted sheep and done all the things she knew she was supposed to do to quiet her anxious mind. The fox had come in at some point after she’d brushed her teeth and gotten ready for bed.
But her thoughts kept spinning. The ritual. The curse-breaking. The possibility of the tether dissolving.
The certainty of Zara leaving.
Beside her, Zara was still. But through the tether, Ramona could feel she wasn’t asleep either. Just lying there in the dark, thoughts racing in parallel.
“I know you’re awake,” Ramona said quietly.
“I know you know.” Zara’s voice was soft as she propped herself up.
“The walls feel like they’re closing in,” Ramona said, taking a deep breath.
Zara put a hand on the small of her back. “Want to go sit on the fire escape?”
“Yeah.”
They slipped out of bed carefully. The fox lifted his head from the foot of the mattress, watching.
“Stay, friend,” Ramona whispered. The fox settled back down.
They pulled on jackets and sweaters. Ramona crossed to her window, opened it quietly. The cold night air rushed in.
She climbed out onto the fire escape. Zara followed, closing the window most of the way behind them to keep the heat in.
The city spread out below them. Fernwick at midnight — mostly quiet, a few cars passing, distant sirens, the kind of ambient noise that became white noise after you lived somewhere long enough.
The moon was almost invisible. New moon eve. Tomorrow night it would be completely dark.
Tomorrow night, everything would change.
They settled on the metal grating, shoulders touching, legs dangling through the rails.
“Are you scared?” Ramona asked.
“Terrified,” Zara said.
“After the curse breaks?”
“After the tether dissolves.” Zara’s voice was quiet. “When the tether dissolves.”
“Felix said it should. If breaking the curse satisfies the magical debt—”
“I know what Felix said.” Zara’s hand found Ramona’s. “And if he’s right, it’ll be fast. Break the curse, fix your magic, the debt is satisfied. The binding dissolves automatically.”
Ramona’s chest tightened. “And then you go back to Hell.”
“Yes.”
The word hung between them. Simple. Devastating.
“How long?” Ramona asked. “How long do we have after the binding breaks?”
“I don’t know. It might not be long.” Zara’s voice was carefully controlled. “The pull will be immediate. Once the binding dissolves, Hell will recall me. That’s how it works.”
“Can you… refuse? Even for an hour?”
“Not without consequences.” Zara’s thumb traced circles on the back of Ramona’s hand. “I’m still employed by Hell. Still bound by my contract with them. The accidental summoning gave me temporary leave to be here, but once that’s resolved—”
“You have to go back.”
“Yes.”
Ramona felt tears threatening. “This whole time, we’ve been planning to break the tether. To free you. And all we’re doing is sending you home—”
“Sending me back.” Zara’s voice was soft. “Not home.”
Ramona felt the sharp sting of tears threaten at the edges of her eyes. She looked up into the night sky, blinking quickly.
“I don’t love that,” Ramona said, her voice sounding a bit choked.
Zara’s hand came up to cup Ramona’s face. “But that doesn’t change the reality. I’m still a demon. Still bound by Hell’s bureaucracy. Still obligated to return when summoned.”
“So we just… break the curse, you disappear, and that’s it?”
“That’s not it.” Zara’s voice was firm. “We break the curse. Your magic gets fixed. You get to be the person you were always meant to be. And I—” She stopped, swallowing and pausing for a moment as if to compose herself. “I go back to where I belong.”
“Will I ever get to see you again?” Ramona asked.
“I want that very much,” Zara said, and Ramona caught that her answer wasn’t a yes.
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.” Zara’s thumb wiped away a tear on Ramona’s cheek. “But I’ll find a way. Even if it takes months. Years. A lifetime. I’ll find you again.”
“I could start being really terrible and get sent to Hell,” Ramona offered with a small laugh, wiping at her nose.
“You broke into full-body hives just taking the jar of lunar water from work, Mortal,” Zara teased.
“I can change. I could… start a family vlogging channel and profit off my children. I could… start telling people I vote for fiscal reasons. I could light Thornwood Academy on fire. I’m willing to really, you know, fuck some shit up,” Ramona challenged.
Zara laughed, her fangs on full display. “I don’t want you to come to Hell. Besides, no one ends up there as a surprise. Only willing souls are bound to Hell.”
“How can I be a willing soul, then?” Ramona asked.
“I don’t want to entertain that,” Zara said flatly.
“I’d do it. I can give you my soul, and that way—”
“Ramona, we’ll find another way.” Zara’s voice was firm, final.
Ramona chewed on her lip, leaning into Zara’s warmth. “You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.” Zara’s voice was certain. “I’ve had three hundred years to understand Hell’s bureaucracy. There are loopholes. Technicalities. Ways to request reassignment or extended leave. I just need time to navigate the system.”
“Time we won’t have together.”
“No.” Zara pulled her close. “We won’t. And I hate that. But Ramona, breaking this curse is more important than keeping me here. You deserve to have your magic work properly. You deserve to know who you really are without that weight.”
“I don’t care about the curse if it means losing you.”
“Yes, you do.” Zara’s voice was gentle but firm. “You care. You’ve been carrying this for twenty-seven years. This is your chance to be free. To have the life that was stolen from you.”
“What good is freedom if you’re not here?”
“It’s still freedom.” Zara pressed their foreheads together. “It’s all I want for you.”
Music started playing.
Both of them turned toward the sound. Somewhere below, a few apartments over, someone had opened their window. Soft music drifted out — something old, jazzy, the kind of music that made Ramona think of dance halls and romance and a different era entirely.
Zara stood, held out her hand. “Dance with me.”
“Zara—”
“Please.” Zara’s smile was sad. “We might not get another chance. Dance with me.”
Ramona took her hand.
Zara pulled her up. Wrapped an arm around her waist. Drew her close until they were swaying together on the narrow metal grating, the city spread out below them, the music floating up from the neighbor’s window.
It wasn’t graceful. The fire escape wasn’t meant for dancing. They had maybe three feet of space, but Zara led with confident ease, spinning Ramona carefully, catching her, pulling her back close.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” Ramona said, her voice thick.
“Three hundred years,” Zara replied. “You pick up skills.”
They swayed together. The music was soft, melancholy, beautiful. Ramona rested her head on Zara’s shoulder. Let herself be held. Let herself memorize this — the warmth of Zara’s body, the steady rhythm of their movement, the music wrapping around them like something precious.
Something they might never have again.
“I’ll always be thankful for what you’ve given me,” Zara said quietly.
Ramona lifted her head. “What have I given you?”
“This.” Zara gestured vaguely. “Life. Purpose. A reason to be more than just a cog in Hell’s bureaucracy.” She paused. “Hope. I’ve always wondered what that felt like.”
“I summoned you by accident and made your life complicated.”
“You summoned me by accident and made my life worth living.” Zara spun her again, gentle, careful.
“I was going through motions. Centuries of the same tasks, the same routines, the same endless nothing. And then you yanked me out of that. Made me find out what it feels like to be surprised. To laugh. To care about someone.”
“And now I’m sending you back to that nothing.” Ramona’s voice broke.
“No.” Zara stopped moving. Held Ramona’s face in both hands. “You’re not sending me back to nothing. Because I’m different now. You changed me. And that doesn’t go away just because I’m in Hell instead of here.”
“But you’ll be alone again.”
“But I’ll always have this. This moment.” Zara’s eyes were intense. “That’s not nothing, Ramona. That’s everything.”
The music swelled. Ramona let Zara lead her in slow circles, their feet quiet on the metal grating.
“What if we never see each other again?” Ramona asked, tears streaming down her cheeks in earnest now. “What if Hell won’t let you? What if — what if you’re stuck there forever?”
“Then I’ll still be glad I had this.” Zara pulled her close again. Started swaying. “These weeks with you. These moments. This feeling. I’d rather have had this and lost it than never have had it at all.”
“That’s not enough for me.” Ramona’s tears flowed freely. “I don’t want moments. I want you. Every day. I want to wake up next to you. I want—”
“I know.” Zara’s voice was thick with emotion. “I want that, too. So much it hurts. But we can’t keep the binding just to keep me here. You know that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you deserve to have your magic work. You deserve to be free of this curse.” Zara’s hand traced patterns on her back. “And I deserve to choose you freely. Without a binding forcing proximity. Not because magic compelled me.”
“I don’t want to wait for that,” Ramona said stubbornly.
“Neither do I.” Zara spun her one more time. Caught her. Held her.
The music began to fade. The neighbor closing their window, probably. Retreating back into their own life, their own story.
Ramona and Zara stood there on the fire escape, holding each other, swaying slightly even though the music was gone.
“I love you,” Ramona said. “And I’m going to hate every second you’re gone.”
“I love you, too.” Zara kissed her forehead. “And I’m going to spend every second in Hell finding a way back to you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Zara’s arms tightened around her. “This isn’t goodbye forever.”
They stood there a while longer. The city quiet around them. The new moon rising invisible above.
Tomorrow night — tonight, if really was as late as Ramona thought it was — everything would change.
They’d cleanse the convergence point and break the curse and sever the binding.
Zara would go back to Hell.
And Ramona would have to figure out how to keep breathing without her.
“We should try to sleep,” Zara said finally. “We need to be sharp.”
“I don’t want to sleep.” Ramona’s grip tightened. “I don’t want to waste what time we have left.”
“Then we won’t sleep.” Zara kissed her. Soft, sweet, full of promise and grief. “We’ll stay right here until morning if that’s what you need.”
“I need you not to leave.”
“I know.” Zara’s voice broke. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
They stayed on the fire escape. Holding each other. Not talking. Not crying. Just being together for whatever time they had left.
The ritual would change everything.
But right now, for a few more quiet moments, they were still together.
Still bound.
Still whole.
And in those quiet moments, Ramona let herself pretend that maybe, somehow, there was a way to keep this. Even though she knew there wasn’t.