Chapter 5 Charlie
CHARLIE
The Monday morning drive to work should have been routine. Twelve minutes, same route, same podcast playing through my car speakers.
Instead, every traffic light I approached turned green. Every single one.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to ignore the fact that the radio had switched itself to a classic rock station playing "Sympathy for the Devil."
"Temporary," I muttered, manually changing the station back. "He said a few days. This is day three. It should be fading by now."
Except it wasn't fading.
The first day after the Malrik mishap, I'd managed to convince myself the flickering lights and phone glitches were just coincidence.
Electronics malfunction all the time. Yesterday had been harder to dismiss when my coffee brewed itself and the thermostat kept adjusting to exactly my preferred temperature.
But I'd applied logic and reason, told myself it was still manageable.
Today was making that impossible.
Jada looked up as I entered, her hair catching the morning light and her pointed ears twitching slightly.
A sure sign she sensed something was off.
"Good morning! I've put your Mariposa file on your desk and—" she stopped mid-sentence as the overhead lights brightened noticeably before dimming back to normal.
"Did you do something different with your. .. ?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, aiming for casual.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "You feel different. Not visually, more like..." she paused, searching for words. "Like you've been standing too close to a power line."
"Don't be ridiculous," I replied, hanging up my jacket. "I just... had a very busy weekend."
"Busy weekend," she repeated flatly, one elegant eyebrow arched in perfect skepticism.
As if on cue, the coffeemaker next to her desk gurgled ominously, producing a stream of foam that threatened to overflow before suddenly settling back to normal.
"Perfectly normal coffee behavior," I said quickly, though we both knew better.
"Charlie," Jada said carefully. "What exactly happened during the meeting with Malrik?"
I dropped into the nearest chair. "Nothing serious. A minor... energy transfer. Temporary. Completely temporary."
Jada's expression was a masterpiece of professional restraint barely containing cosmic horror. "Energy transfer," she repeated. "From Malrik. The Prince of Hell"
"He's not a prince," I corrected automatically. "He's just... a demon. And it was an accident. A demonstration gone wrong. He assured me it would wear off in a few days."
"And you believed him?" Jada asked, her voice rising slightly. "The demon whose entire brand is literally deception?"
"He was just as surprised as I was."
"And now you're like ... what? Possessed?"
"No, I don't know," I confessed, rubbing my temples. The temperature in the room rose a degree or two. "But it's fine. I'm fine. Everything is under control."
The printer chose that exact moment to turn itself on and produce three blank pages before shutting down again.
"Completely under control," I repeated weakly.
Jada looked between me and the rogue printer. "I'll reschedule your morning meetings."
"No!" I stood up quickly. The lights flickered once before settling. "No rescheduling. I refuse to let a minor hellish hiccup derail another day. We have the Mariposa consultation at ten, and I intend to be completely professional about it."
"Charlie," Jada began, but I cut her off with my best event-coordinator-in-charge voice.
"It's temporary. It's fading. By the time Mariposa arrives, this will all be a funny story."
It was not a funny story.
By ten-fifteen, I had: caused Mariposa's coffee to steam a bit too enthusiastically when she mentioned "devilishly good" color combinations; made the office plants perk up unnaturally when she asked if I was "feeling energetic today"; and triggered two brief power surges when she innocently inquired about my meeting with Malrik.
Mariposa, to her credit, seemed more intrigued than alarmed. Her gossamer wings fluttered with excitement as my laptop spontaneously opened to a new document.
Just as I was going to make up a story about power surges in the quarter this morning, Jada knocked lightly before stepping in. "Sorry to interrupt, but I finished the Ashcliff proposal. Should I send it over, or did you want to review it first?"
"Send it. I trust your work."
Jada left, and Mariposa's antennae practically vibrated with interest. "Ashcliff," she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "That's why there's something absolutely electrical about you today."
I nearly choked on my tea. "Electric?"
"Mmm-hmm," she hummed, antennae quivering with excitement. "I have compound eyes, dear—I can sense energy signatures. You're practically glowing with residual magic, dark magic." She winked. "Very becoming, actually. Brings out the fire in your complexion."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean,"
"Of course not, darling," she replied with a knowing smile. "But whatever you're doing, I simply must know the secret."
"Mariposa." I tried to sound stern, but the effect was somewhat undermined by my pen rolling across the desk without being touched. I grabbed it back. "Can we please focus on your metamorphosis ceremony?"
"Of course, darling." She gave me a look that said she was dropping the subject for now but would absolutely be revisiting it later.
"But you simply must tell me what it was like.
Ashcliff Manor, I mean. I've only glimpsed it from afar, and the rumors about what happens inside are positively scandalous. "
"It's... architecturally impressive."
"And the master of the house?" she prompted, not even trying to hide her curiosity. "Was he as magnetic in private as he is on stage?"
I opened my mouth, searching for a response that was both honest and professional. "He was... certainly—"
A sharp yelp came from the reception area, followed by Jada appearing in the doorway, slightly flustered.
"So sorry to interrupt again," she said, catching her breath, "but there's a... situation in reception."
"What kind of situation?" I asked, already dreading the answer.
"The kind that's currently investigating our snack station and has left tiny scorch marks on the waiting room carpet," she replied. "Also, it keeps looking toward your office and wagging its tail."
I closed my eyes briefly. "Black, about the size of a terrier, eyes like molten lava?"
"That's the one," Jada confirmed.
"Hellhound puppy," I explained to Mariposa, who looked absolutely delighted by this development.
"A hellhound puppy? Here?" Her wings fluttered faster. "Oh, I've heard they're absolutely darling at that age, before they grow large enough to devour anything in its path."
"Excuse me one moment," I said, standing up.
In the reception area, Sinnamon was indeed investigating our variety of snacks, tiny sparks falling from his nose as he sniffed. The moment he saw me, he abandoned his exploration and trotted over, tail wagging frantically.
"No," I said firmly, pointing at the door. "Go home. Back to Ashcliff. Shoo."
Sinnamon sat down, looking up at me with glowing eyes that somehow managed to be simultaneously demonic and adoring.
"I mean it," I continued, trying to sound authoritative. "I don't need any more complications. Your master has already given me plenty to deal with."
At the mention of Malrik, Sinnamon's ears perked up, and he made a sound that was suspiciously like a snicker.
"Don't you start," I warned him. My frustration caused the air conditioning to kick on with unusual vigor.
Mariposa appeared in the doorway, her wings fully extended in what I recognized as her maximum gossip-collection posture. "Charlie, darling, is everything alright? I heard some commotion and—" She spotted Sinnamon and gasped in delight. "Oh! It's absolutely adorable!"
Sinnamon pressed his warm body against my leg with what could only be described as protective devotion.
"Well," I said, looking down at my new shadow, "this complicates things."
"Nonsense," Mariposa chirped. "He's clearly chosen you. How romantic! A gift from your new client."
"He's not a gift," I protested. "He's an... escape artist. He somehow found his way here from across town."
"Darling," Mariposa said with the patient tone of someone explaining basic facts to a child, "hellhounds don't just wander around Mystic Ridge. They're drawn to compatible power." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Which raises some very interesting questions about your recent activities."
Before I could formulate a response that didn't involve admitting to the Malrik mishap, my next appointment arrived early. Through the glass door, I could see Mrs. Sanderson from the botanical society, clutching her purse and looking around nervously.
"I should take this meeting," I said, grateful for the interruption.
"Of course, darling." Mariposa gathered her things. "But we're definitely continuing this conversation later. I want every detail about Ashcliff Manor." She paused at the door. "And Charlie? You might want to invest in some fire extinguishers. Just a thought."
After she left, I looked down at Sinnamon, who gazed back with what I could have sworn was smug satisfaction.
"This is still temporary," I told him firmly. "Just... a longer temporary than initially expected."
Sinnamon yawned, revealing tiny ember-bright teeth, then settled his head on my shoe as if to say, "Keep telling yourself that."
I pulled out my phone to call... who? Animal control? A priest? The demon who'd caused this mess in the first place? The screen flickered, as if mocking the idea that I had any control left.