3 HIDE-AND-SEEK #3
He did remember. Meph had been hiding that he was having panic attacks, and Raum had told Belial.
In his defense, he’d been worried about Meph at the time.
He hadn’t known where he was sneaking off to and was worried he was on a self-destructive track.
But he should have known Meph would eventually strike back.
“We’re good now,” Meph said, still giving him that evil grin.
And they were. That was always how it was with them. Retribution struck hard and fast, but after, it was forgotten. At least Raum could take solace in that.
Except … he couldn’t. Because shit wasn’t the same as before, and they both knew it. It was always Meph and Raum in the past. They would fuck up, get even, move on—together.
But now, Meph had Iris, and Raum was alone. It was a pathetic mindset, but it was how he felt. He wanted to brush it off, but the truth was, it made him feel fucking depressed.
“What are you doing at an animal shelter?” Belial demanded.
Raum spun around. Might as well just spit it out. “I got a job.”
“Doing what?”
“Helping animals.”
“You—” Bel rubbed his eyes. “You’re helping the fucking animals. At a fucking shelter. Jesus Christ. Why don’t you go join a goddamn church mission while you’re at it? You can go to poor countries and blackmail people into joining your religion if they want clean water.”
“What the fuck?” Meph said, laughing.
Bel threw up his hands. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what volunteers do?”
“Only the ones that go to Hell after someone murders them for being closet pedophiles.”
“What is with you and pedophiles right now?”
“They’re creepy! I heard there’s an entire wing in the Nine Rings for torturing them—it doesn’t get much worse than that.”
“Can I go now?” Raum interjected darkly. “Is the interrogation over?”
Bel shot him a look. “Why do you want a human job?”
“Because.”
“Because why.”
Raum narrowed his eyes. Bel narrowed his right back.
“Because I like it.”
“Why?”
He wasn’t interested in answering that, and all of a sudden, he’d reached his limit for conversation. Turning, he crossed the room, opened the patio door, and leapt off the edge of the balcony.
“We’re not done talking about this!” he heard Bel shout as he fell.
This was his favorite part about shifting. His body tumbled through the air, defying the laws of self-preservation that told him plummeting rapidly toward the ground was bad for his health.
Halfway down, he shifted.
In crow form, he spread his wings, feathers catching the wind and launching him upward. He rose until he was higher than the tops of the buildings and then soared, head tilting around as he studied his surroundings through a sharp avian gaze.
He liked being in crow form. It was fun to fly around with other crows and caw at humans. The other day he’d joined a murder of crows perched in a neighborhood alley, and they’d screeched for hours until all the humans around them were losing their minds.
It was the simple pleasures in life that brought the most enjoyment.
After a too-short flight, he found the building he sought: an old warehouse in Saint-Henri near the Lachine Canal, its bricks worn and its windows too thin. Spreading his wings and stretching his talons, he landed on the sill of a window on the top floor.
The warehouse had been converted into rentable studios, and this was where Meph had started doing most of his sculpture making since Eva’s parents had moved back in together.
Meph still held a grudge toward Dan, Eva’s Grigori father, who’d tossed a consecrated knife in Meph’s chest the first time they met, and he claimed Dan’s presence stifled his creative abilities.
Using his beak, Raum jimmied the edge of the window until it cracked open. Meph knew the latch was broken, but he left it that way so Raum could pop by when he wanted without having to climb five flights of stairs. Not that Meph knew he sometimes came when he wasn’t there.
Raum eased his feathery body between the crack, shifting back to human form as he jumped down to the floor inside.
Before him were several tables covered in unfinished pieces.
Shelves lined one wall, packed with sculpting materials.
The coat rack was overflowing with clothes, and there were a dozen pairs of sneakers lined up beneath it. Meph loved his shoes.
On the other side of the room, there was a couch and coffee table topped with a stack of grimoires, boxes of casting supplies around its base.
Raum pictured Iris and Meph working here together and felt that familiar pang of jealousy in his gut that he didn’t fucking understand. He recognized the emotion, he just didn’t know why he was having it.
Was he jealous because Meph didn’t need him anymore? He didn’t understand it and was tired of analyzing it, but the feeling persisted regardless. And sometimes—like tonight—it drove him to do stupid, embarrassing shit like this.
This was Meph’s space, not his. This was the first thing in Meph’s life in centuries that hadn’t included him.
So, of course, he felt the need to come here and pretend he belonged when he knew he didn’t.
Heading across the room, he sat on the couch, kicked off his shoes, and lay back on the couch with his arms behind his head.
He closed his eyes, but he didn’t sleep. He lay still, but his thoughts never stopped churning.