3 HIDE-AND-SEEK
HIDE-AND-SEEK
A T EIGHT THE FOLLOWING MORNING, C ARO’S RUSTY van rolled up to the curb outside Raum’s apartment building, and she waved at him from the driver’s seat. Questioning his sanity, he climbed in, and she floored it before he’d even sat down.
“Morning! You have coffee yet?”
“Not enough.”
She laughed as the van peeled around a corner, suspension squeaking like it was ready to snap. Pulling over at a cafe, she handed him a twenty to buy coffees. When he got back, she hit the gas like they were in a road rally.
He couldn’t help his discomfort as she drove, humming some radio tune under her breath. This whole situation was just so … human. He wasn’t sure how to interact with humans if he wasn’t trying to manipulate them, steal from them, or party with them and get laid.
The latter hadn’t happened in an embarrassingly long time—not since he’d stopped going out with Meph. Before his brother had fallen head over heels for his snarky blue-haired witch, Raum and Meph had been partners in crime, partying every night, sometimes with two or more women at once.
He remembered when he and his brothers had first arrived in Montreal after escaping Hell. They’d gone out to party, thinking this would be their new life—total freedom from responsibility.
Then Ash had fallen in love with Eva and broken his curse, Mist had come along and teamed up with Lily, and then Meph had gotten into art and found Iris—Hell had probably frozen over at this point—and Belial … Who knew what was up with him.
Bel had sworn an oath of celibacy for six months, actually followed through on it, and then turned into a wrathful recluse, always on the verge of blowing a gasket.
And now Raum had a job. Working for a human. At an animal shelter.
What had they become? Maybe they should’ve stayed in Hell.
“I was hoping you’d do some more work with Tiny,” Caro said as they pulled up to the shelter. “He’s too sensitive for the kennel, but I can’t put him into foster care when he’s so out of control.”
They both climbed out of the van, tossing their empty cups in the recycling bin on their way inside.
The sign out front read “Ange Gardien: Refuge pour Animaux.” The building was an unassuming gray with an accessibility ramp to the front door and a notice board with pictures of pets for adoption and posters for fundraiser events.
They headed inside, little bells jingling overhead.
“Chloé, this is Raum,” Caro said to the girl at the front desk whose head was down as she scribbled on some paperwork. “He’s going to be working with the dogs.”
Chloé looked up, and her eyes widened. Raum nodded in greeting, and her mouth dropped open.
“Come on,” Caro said, “I’ll give you a tour.”
Leaving the frozen secretary behind, he followed Caro through an entrance at the back of the room.
On the other side was a heavy windowless door, leading to the dog kennels, if the muffled barking coming through was any indication.
To their left was a short linoleum-tiled hallway.
She pointed down to the end. “The cats are through the first door on the right, birds and other animals through the second. My office is at the end. We’re a small shelter, but we take as many as we can. ”
She pushed open the door in front of them, and Raum winced as the full-volume barking assailed his ears, already more sensitive than a human’s. Looking back at him and seeing his expression, she laughed.
“You’ll get used to that,” she said. “Come on, I’ll show you around, and then we can take Tiny outside.”
They passed rows of caged barking dogs, Caro pointing out the little signs on each stating the dog’s name and breed, how old it was, and what kind of temperament it had.
As they went, Raum tapped into that strange ability he had.
It was an instinctual sense. He knew what the dogs were feeling, and he was able to reassure them if they were scared.
To this day he had no idea why or how.
Four and a half centuries ago—the day he’d met Meph in fact—Raum had awoken to discover the last three hundred years of his memory wiped clean from his mind. All that remained was a vague understanding that an angel had done it as punishment for a terrible crime …
A crime he now had no memory of committing.
That same day, he’d also discovered a new ability to communicate with animals. And because of the memory loss, he didn’t know when or how he’d gotten it.
The demon he’d been before those lost years was completely different to the demon he was now.
He’d been a typical creature of Hell—violent, greedy, obsessed with stealing (that habit wasn’t new), with no impulse control or desire to change.
But he’d woken up after losing his memories hating everything about who he’d been.
A dark despondency had plagued him for years afterward. It was the start of the numbness that still afflicted him to this day. Only Meph’s presence in his life, and later Ash and Bel’s, had provided the distraction he needed to get through it.
That and his strange affinity for animals.
Now, as he passed each dog, he reached out to them and let them know they were safe. One by one, they fell silent and relaxed. Their calm affected the others, and by the time they’d made it to the end of the second row, the entire room was silent.
Caro slowly turned, staring at him with wide eyes. “How did—Did you do that?” She was giving him that Are you Jesus? look again.
He shrugged, hoping to brush it off.
The paranormal world was disguised from unsuspecting humanity by a natural glamor that fell over things that weren’t within the scope of their accepted reality.
But some humans were born with the Sight—the ability to see through the glamor—and with repeated exposure any human could eventually develop it.
Showing off supernatural abilities to random people was one of the stupidest things Raum could do. If he were smart, he’d disappear now and never come back.
But he’d already proven he wasn’t smart, and he figured that as long as Caro didn’t try to start a social media page for Dog Jesus or something, he’d stick around.
She coughed and shook her head. “Let’s continue then.”
He followed her to the last row of kennels. The cage on the end contained a familiar brown dog, who lay on the ground with his head between his paws. When he saw Raum, his tail started to thump.
“Unbelievable,” Caro murmured, glancing at Raum. She unlocked the cage and pulled a leash from her pocket. “Let’s take him outside, and I’ll show you the dog run out back. I’ll get you your own keys tomorrow so you won’t need me.”
Tiny leapt up, tail wagging, as Caro opened the cage. He was so big that his front paws reached her shoulders, and he nearly knocked her over.
“Down,” Raum said.
Tiny immediately jumped down and stood obediently while Caro clipped the leash on him.
She looked at Raum like she was slightly afraid of him now, but she made no comment.
They went out through the exit in the back corner.
Outside, there were several small enclosures with high fences and muddy grass.
“It’s not much,” Caro said, “but it’s all the space we have. We already get complaints from the neighbors for the barking. Most dogs get walked by volunteers, but the untrained ones like Tiny have to spend a lot of time in their kennels.”
“I can walk him.”
“I believe you.”
Raum watched the overexcited animal trying to leap to freedom in a five-by-ten patch of mud. “Can I take him now?”
“Sure.” Caro unclipped a set of keys from her ring, handing them over. “When you get back, put him back in his cage and I’ll give you the rest of the tour.”
He took the dog down the back alley and onto the street, part of him disbelieving that Caro was actually paying him for this, and another part disbelieving that he was stupid enough to take the job.
He and Tiny walked around for a good hour, giving Tiny the chance to work off some energy. Half the reason he was so out of control was because he had no outlet for it.
As they turned back on the block for the shelter, Raum tipped his face up to the sunshine and realized he was actually enjoying himself. He liked the simplicity of animals, and he liked the sense of purpose he got from helping them.
People were complicated. Animals made sense.
As he lowered his gaze once more … he caught sight of a woman watching him.
Not just any woman. Her.
She stood at the edge of the narrow alley between the shelter and the building beside it, peeking around the brick. When their eyes met, hers widened as if she hadn’t expected him to notice her.
He missed a step, and she lurched back, though not far enough to hide behind the brick.
“Hey,” he called out before he could stop himself, but he didn’t raise his voice enough to be sure she heard.
He didn’t know why he wanted to talk to her so badly, but he did. Enough that he increased his pace. It took everything he had not to run. He had a sudden feeling that if he didn’t catch her now, she was going to disappear again.
He was right. She jumped like a startled rabbit and then ducked behind the brick out of sight.
He couldn’t help it; he started jogging, Tiny wagging his tail like this was the greatest shit to ever happen to him.
When they reached the alley, it was empty.
Raum came to halt, frowning. He spun around, seeing nothing. Where had she gone?
As he walked farther down the lane, his eyes caught on a fire-exit door at the side of the neighboring building. She must have gone through there. It was some kind of medical office—he’d seen from the sign out front.
Maybe she worked there. Maybe she was on her lunch break, and she’d seen him and been as surprised as he was that their paths had crossed again.
So he’d shouted and run at her like a fucking creep.