1. Jules #3
She smiles to herself and keeps going.
I glance back at the mirror. Everything matches, exactly as it should. There’s nothing to test.
Obviously.
Because if there was, Mina would’ve Seen it. She always does. Not in a dramatic, psychic way, no glowing eyes, no ominous warnings, but in that quiet, instinctive way she has of noticing things before they fully exist. Or Seeing things before the rest of us notice.
She would’ve felt it.
And she didn’t.
So, nothing’s wrong.
***
Later that night, the Tower is quieter.
Not silent, never silent, but quieter in that controlled, expensive way where even downtime feels like it was approved in advance. It technically was.
Our common space, the Lounge, sits in the center of our floor, connecting all of our apartments as if Eon decided proximity was good for “team building.” Maybe they were right about that.
It’s all soft lighting and low, oversized couches and chairs with polished floors.
Most of the time, our individual apartments are fully stocked, pristine, and utterly untouched.
This is where we actually exist.
Angel—my six-pound pup with white fur, enormous dark eyes, and criminally cute paws—is asleep across my stomach like she pays rent. One tiny paw twitches whenever I breathe too deeply, as if my internal organs are inconveniencing her.
At the other end of the couch, Mina is attempting to fold a blanket around Mochi, her fluffy grey cat, who has planted herself directly in the center and rejected every relocation attempt with the quiet confidence of someone who knows she cannot legally be evicted.
Mochi finally gets up on her own terms, stretches each leg with insulting leisure, and hops onto the floor.
Angel’s head snaps up.
“Oh, no,” I warn.
Too late.
She launches off me and tears after Mochi, presumably intending to lick her to death. Angel is obsessed with that cat. Mochi tolerates this obsession with the exhausted dignity of a woman being pursued by an admirer she has already rejected several times.
They disappear behind the couch in a blur of white and grey.
Remy’s nearby taking up one of the armchairs, notebook open, scribbling as if the world depends on whatever lyrics she’s writing. Evie is stretched out next to Kaia, legs tangled together. Kaia’s leaning back into her, more relaxed than she ever is anywhere else.
Across from Kaia and Evie, I sprawl along the rest of Mina’s couch, phone in hand, pretending I’m not listening, even though I absolutely am.
Now deprived of her cat, Mina refolds the blanket. She smooths the edges, folds it, adjusts it, then folds it again. Mina likes to tidy things when she’s stressed, and with the upcoming world tour, plus what I’ve jokingly dubbed our ‘mysterious demonic fan,’ Mina is stressed with a capital S.
”—it hasn’t shown up again,“ Mina says, folding the blanket for the third time. “Not like in Harbor’s Edge.”
Kaia frowns. “But you still feel it.”
Mina hesitates, then says, “…Yeah. Just… not here. Not exactly.”
That’s not great.
Not when the thing she’s talking about is the same demon she actually Saw at Harbor’s Edge. The big one. The one that clapped. The one that shouldn’t exist in any version of reality I’m willing to participate in.
The one that followed our bus all the way back here…
Which, fun fact, she did not tell us at the time, because she “didn’t want to scare Evie.”
I crack one eye open. “Define that very ominous ‘not exactly,’” I say.
Mina makes a face. “It’s like… background noise,” she says slowly. “Muffled, but fluctuating.”
“Comforting,” I mutter.
“It’s better than Harbor’s Edge.”
Fair. At Harbor’s Edge, it wasn’t background anything.
I push up onto one elbow. “So what, it followed us back and now it’s just… hanging out? Love that. Big fan of being haunted long-distance.”
“It’s not ‘hanging out,’” Remy says without looking up. “If it’s still out there, it’s adapting. Watching.”
Leave it to Remy to make it sound ten times creepier than it needs to.
Kaia exhales quietly. “The Tower’s warded,” she assures us. Likely more for Evie’s benefit than anyone else’s.
She’s not wrong though. Everything here is protected. Layered. Locked down.
“Which explains the distance,” Remy adds.
Mina nods, but she still looks uneasy. “Maybe. Or maybe it just… can’t get in the same way.”
“Great,” I say. “So it’s waiting outside. Super reassuring.”
Kaia’s jaw tightens slightly. She always does that when she’s stressed.
“Kaia,” I say lazily, “you’re doing the jaw thing again.”
“I am not.”
“You are,” Evie says immediately, already leaning in.
And then she just kisses Kaia’s jaw, soft and casual, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Kaia freezes. Actually freezes. Then goes beet red.
I sit up fully. “Oh my god. Oh my god, she broke you.”
“She did not—“ Kaia starts, face still flushed.
“She did,“ I say. “That was a system shutdown. Full reboot required.”
Evie grins, completely unbothered and satisfied. “It works every time.”
Kaia covers her face for half a second. “You’re both insufferable,” she mutters.
“Excuse you,” I say. “We’re delightful.”
Remy snorts. Mina smiles down at the blanket like she’s trying not to laugh. For a second, it feels light.
Then Mina speaks again. “It feels closer lately.”
And just like that, the room shifts. We all go still.
“Closer how?” Kaia asks, softer now.
Mina frowns slightly, trying to find the right shape for something that doesn’t have one. “Like it could… reach in here.”
Silence. Yeah, I’m not a huge fan of that.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Mina adds quickly, almost tripping over the words. “Eon should’ve detected it. The Council too. There’s no way something this big just… slips through everything… They should be able to see it,“ she says, quieter now. “They should feel it. I don’t understand why they can’t.”
Kaia’s expression hardens. “I’ll tell Blaire. Mr. Bane should reassess the wards.”
Mina says softly, “Devin thinks I’m crazy.”
Nope. Absolutely not.
“All in favor of feeding Devin to it the next time he implies Mina’s crazy, say aye!”
“Aye,” Evie says immediately.
“Aye,” I echo.
Mina huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “Please don’t feed Devin to anything.”
“No promises,” I say.
Remy flips a page in her notebook. “I want to show you something,” she says to Kaia. “The lyrics I was working on.”
Kaia shifts her attention immediately. “Now?”
“They’re better fresh.”
That’s all it takes. The two of them drift off into their own orbit, Remy talking low, precise, Kaia leaning in, already dissecting structure, tone, whatever weird genius thing they do together.
And me?
I’m about to say something else—something probably unhelpful—when I realize I left my charger in my room and my phone is about to die.
Right when my food delivery should be here.
Actual crisis.
“Evie,” I say, “can you grab my charger from my room?”
She tilts her head. “You have legs.”
“I do,” I agree. “But I’m also comfortable. Don’t ruin this for me.”
She narrows her eyes slightly.
I lean forward just a little. “Plus,” I add, lowering my voice, “you’ll be well rewarded if you dooo…”
Evie cocks a brow.
I mouth it: French fries.
Her entire expression changes. “You didn’t.”
I just grin and put a finger to my lips. Shh.
Evie exhales, but she’s standing with a smile ghosting her lips.
“Fine,” she says. “Where is it?”
“Nightstand. Left side. You’ll see it.”
“If I don’t, I’m taking something else as payment.”
“Take anything you want. I trust you.”
“That feels like a mistake.”
“Most things I do are.”
She heads down the hall, and I settle deeper into the couch, satisfied. This is teamwork.
Only a minute or two passes, then a scream rips through the air.
Kaia is on her feet instantly. “Evie!”
She bolts down the hall before I can fully sit up again. Mina freezes mid-fold. Remy finally looks up.
There’s a crash. A thud.
“Are you kidding me!?” It’s Evie’s voice, alive and angry.
I push off the couch and follow. Kaia’s already at Evie’s side by the time I reach the doorway, with Remy and Mina drifting in behind me.
Evie is standing just inside, hand over her chest, glaring at…
Craig.
Our plastic skeleton and honorary member of Midnight Halo sits on my dresser, exactly where I definitely did not leave him.
“You did this,” Evie says, pointing at me.
I straighten, offended. “I did not.”
She gestures wildly at Craig. “He was waiting for me.”
“He doesn’t wait,” I say. “He exists. And I did not put him there.”
“Well, something’s off with him… Maybe he’s possessed,“ Evie says, narrowing her eyes at him.
“No possession here,” Mina chimes in immediately.
“See?” I say. “Certified possession-free.”
Evie looks between all of us as if we’ve collectively lost our minds. “I don’t like him. We should throw him out.”
The reaction is immediate.
“No!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Don’t touch him.”
Evie recoils slightly. “You’re all insane.”
“It’s Craig,” I say, like that explains everything.
“Every time we bring Craig on tour, something good happens,” Mina adds.
Evie crosses her arms. “I almost died of a heart attack!”
“That’s dramatic,” I say.
“You asked me to go in here!”
“Yeah,” I say. “But I didn’t tell Craig to ambush you.”
“He literally appeared out of nowhere,“ Evie snaps. She turns back to the dresser, reaching for him like she’s about to shake answers out of a possessed doll. “Wait, what is this?”
She pulls something small off Craig, holding it up between her fingers.
It’s a flat little charm. Cheap-looking. Acrylic, like a keychain you’d get for free at an event. Eon’s logo stamped neatly on one side.
I step forward, taking it from her, and I recognize it instantly.