Epilogue
Three months later
“And you’re absolutely certain this one won’t explode?” Maxwell teased.
“Well, I don’t intend to look up sinister forbidden magic on it, unless the schedule recording function counts.” Hazel leaned forward and peered at the new TV’s setup screen. “I’m probably not going to stab it either.”
“I might stab something if you keep standing around with that ice cream,” Jess put in from the couch. It was a largely empty threat, though. Even if they’d meant it, Casper had curled up on their lap, rendering them completely immobile until he decided otherwise.
“I think HR takes a dim view of stabbing your employees,” said Hazel.
“Especially when I’m the only one you have,” Maxwell added, setting one dish of chocolate ice cream each down in front of Jess and Hazel. The shifting light from the TV screen caught the faint trace of silver in his hands, but Hazel really only saw it because she knew what to look for.
Otherwise, he looked like a normal guy—one who dressed more than a little preppy for his surroundings, but everyday enough that nobody questioned the fake ID Summer had obtained for him.
If any of the library patrons thought the new assistant was weird, they hadn’t said anything about it, and the people who employed Hazel for exorcisms were already far enough into strangeness not to say a word about her new partner.
Besides, the combination of a second pair of eyes and a knack for research had already made her work go far more smoothly than it had done even before Chapman’s house.
Jess laughed, grabbed their ice cream, and leaned back into the comforting embrace of the secondhand couch, whose squishy cushions more than made up for its brown-and-red plaid.
Most of Hazel’s furniture was like it: used, a little clashing, but comfortable.
“It would be hard to find somebody else who puts up with my taste in coffee.”
“Your praise overwhelms me,” said Maxwell, and pretended to give them an earnest look. “You, of course, are by far the best employer I’ve had.”
“Thanks,” drawled Jess, who had some idea of how low the bar was.
Hazel and Maxwell had told them the basics at first, mostly by way of explaining Hazel’s phone call and reassuring them that the danger was over.
Perthrux might find its way out of Hell in a century or four, but Maxwell had hurt it badly before it had left the world, and demons weren’t particularly merciful to the weak among their own kind.
Hazel guessed humans wouldn’t be on its mind very much in the foreseeable future.
Over the last three months, Hazel’s enemies had mostly been weeds, an extremely suspicious patch of the ceiling, and the instructions for hooking up modern TV sets.
As the program selection screen came up, she grinned in triumph over the last foe.
“Okay. So this is one of the first films with color, and—”
Her phone rang. Normally, Hazel would have let it go to voicemail, but the screen said Summer. “Sorry. Just a minute,” she said, rising to her feet as she swiped. “Hello?”
“Heya, Hazelnut.” The familiar voice sounded weary this time. “You and your boyfriend got a minute to talk about dreams and the ethereal?”
“…now?”
“Next couple days. There’s a situation in California, and it looks bad.”
“Yeah, of course.” Hazel bit her lip. “How bad?”
“I’ll put you in touch with the person handling it, but…at least one murder, one ghost, and some serious complications. Not like yours, though.”
“No,” said Hazel. She glanced around the room, stopping in turn on Maxwell, Jess, and Casper, thinking of Bramble watching over the garden outside. “But if they’re lucky, their complications will turn out as well in the end.”