Secrets have ears.
May Alex suffer the most relentless, soul-crushing headache for a month for all the stress he causes me. Seriously, why does everything have to be so difficult with him?
I snorted in frustration and stormed up to Ruben's door, pounding on it. The camera zeroed in on me, and through his monitor, Ruben was greeted by the sight of my cold, visibly tense face.
"Leave!" he growled through the loudspeaker.
This time, he didn't even bother asking what I was doing here—he probably already knew.
"Open up, you rat!" I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "I don't have time for games!"
"Alright, alright," he muttered, his voice full of reluctance. "You came for info, right? But... you got the cash?"
I shot him a death glare, and he flinched back, the sound of him hissing through his teeth barely audible.
"If you open that door now, I'll spare your life," I said, my voice dangerously calm.
The door clicked open with a soft, resigned sound. Ruben knew better than to play games with me—not when I was already this close to snapping. I rushed upstairs, and there he was, huddled in his usual armchair, eyes glued to the monitors.
"What now?" he asked, his tone sharp, laced with annoyance.
"I need to know where Alex is," I demanded, my voice cold and direct.
His expression immediately darkened.
"I knew you were up to something again," he muttered, "And as always, it's my poor darlings who end up paying the price."
"What do you mean?" I pressed, impatient.
"My rats," he whined, as if the very mention of them pained him. "I sent them to check out a specific area, and they vanished. Gone. Not a trace. There's something there, I know it. Your friend was heading that way the last time my rats spotted him."
"What could possibly be there?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.
He shrugged, looking almost uninterested.
"I told you, they disappeared before they could bring back any useful info," he replied nonchalantly.
"Fuck!" I slammed my fist onto the table, the sound echoing in the room. I turned to Ruben, my eyes seething. "You're absolutely useless!"
The rat-like man recoiled, curling into himself as much as possible, hands raised defensively in front of his face. He peeked up at me from behind them, his voice a squeaky whimper.
I gave him one last contemptuous look before storming out, leaving him to wallow in his own uselessness.
"Simon," I called out, my voice tight. "Simon."
There was no answer. A knot of unease twisted in my stomach. I could only hope he was with Alex. I headed for the Goblin.
Zénó had clearly anticipated my arrival, as a steaming mug of hot chocolate sat waiting on the counter. With most of the night behind us, the café was nearly empty. I gave him a nod of thanks before taking a sip, feeling the warmth spread through me.
"How can I help you?" Zénó asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I let out a heavy sigh. "It's about my best friend again."
"Did he manage to change back?" he asked, his brow furrowing in quiet concern.
I nodded. "But now... I think he's tangled himself up in something dangerous."
Zénó's expression softened as he mulled it over.
"I'll look into it if you'd like," he said after a beat.
I let out another sigh, more of relief this time. "I'd appreciate that."
Zénó's smile was small but reassuring. "Everything will be alright."
I returned a dry smile of my own, knowing well enough that those words were often said when nothing was ever going to be alright. I finished my hot chocolate, stood, and turned to leave, but just as I reached the door, Grizzly barged in.
When his eyes landed on me, they practically lit up.
"Hey, kid," he greeted in his low, growling voice. "Long time no see. What brings you here?"
"I came for information," I replied, not bothering to sugarcoat it.
"I see, I see," he said, patting my shoulder with a force that made my bones creak.
"I should be on my way," I added, hinting for him to let me go.
Grizzly finally stepped aside, but before I could leave, his hand landed on my shoulder again—this time, the touch was lighter, almost gentle. A warning.
"Watch out, kid," he murmured, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Town's getting rowdy."
I nodded, a knot forming in my stomach, and left the café, the weight of his words settling over me as I stepped out into the night.
When I walked through the door, Rolo practically leapt out of his chair in the kitchen.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
His eyes immediately flicked to the empty space behind me, noting that I had come back alone.
"If only I knew," I muttered. "I checked in with two other informants. Neither of them has a clue what's going on, either."
"So what now?" he asked, a note of frustration creeping into his voice.
I leaned against the doorframe, eyes scanning the room. I'll wait for Simon.
"First," I said, straightening up, "we're going to act like nothing's happened. We go back to our rooms, pretend to be asleep. I don't want Alex to know we've figured out he's missing."
"But why?" He frowned, confused. "Aren't you going to confront him?"
A wicked grin tugged at my lips. "I have a better plan: next time, I'll follow him."
(...)
Alex came home shortly after. I could hear his heartbeat, and it was racing—he was obviously nervous. For the sake of acting natural, I strolled into the kitchen, stretching and pretending to yawn. He was sitting at the table, his posture stiff, looking grumpy. I deliberately ignored him.
"Morning," I muttered, stifling another yawn.
He glanced up, visibly relaxing at the sight of me, as though he'd been bracing for some kind of confrontation. Maybe he was wondering if I'd figured out he'd sneaked out during the night. The naive little thing!
"Good morning!" he said, offering a grin, though it was a little too wide, a little too forced. I could tell he was still on edge.
"Want some cocoa?" he asked, almost too eagerly.
I watched him closely as he prepared it. Well, do you feel guilty, Alex? I sat down, blinking sleepily as I watched him warm the milk, pretending to be unfazed.
"Is there a problem?" I asked casually.
He shook his head, but the tension was still there. "I'm just a little nervous about school. It's our last year, after all," he chuckled, but the sound was strained, unlike his usual carefree laugh. I knew him better than anyone — that laugh didn't fool me. "Nothing will be the same, right?"
I pressed my lips together, the sting of his words landing harder than I expected. He was right. Nothing would be the same without Jo. The silence hung between us for a long moment, the weight of it settling in.
"Today's the book distribution," he said, breaking the silence. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"
He didn't need me to say anything; the answer was clear on my face. Damn, is it already the twenty-eighth? And August, no less? My God, September's just around the corner.
"Can you grab my books too?" he asked. "I think I might have a shot at a temporary job."
"That's great," I said, a dry smile tugging at my lips. "It'd be nice to have some lasagna for a change."
Alex nodded eagerly and placed my cocoa in front of me.
"Thanks," I said, my voice flat.
"The fridge is practically empty anyway," he added, sounding more hopeful than usual. "We could go shopping this morning, and then I'll head to the interview."
I nodded, but my lack of enthusiasm must've been obvious. It was hard to summon excitement for something so mundane when everything else felt so out of place.
With that, I went up to my room to get ready. As if on cue, Simon was already lying on my bed. He glanced up at me, his eyes narrowing as I walked in.
"Where were you?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
I didn't answer right away, feeling the weight of everything press down on me. Simon closed the book he was reading and sat up, sensing the shift in my mood.
"What happened?"
"You weren't with Alex last night," I said, the words almost coming out as a statement rather than a question.
Simon shook his head. He didn't even need to speak—his silence said it all. His aura felt colder than usual, his face almost devoid of warmth. I knew then that he'd been to visit his family again.
"Alex is in something deeper than he's letting on," I explained, my voice low and steady. "I need you to do something for me."
He looked at me with that familiar, skeptical eyebrow raised. "What do you want me to do? Go after him?"
"I want you to go with him to the interview," I said, holding his gaze.
Simon's expression shifted. "You think he lied?"
I shook my head, trying to ignore the unease gnawing at me. "His heartbeat was steady, and he's not exactly a convincing liar. But something's off, and I'm worried."
"So you don't trust him?" Simon pressed, his voice soft but pointed.
"It's not that," I countered quickly. "I just… feel something's wrong."
Simon's eyes softened a fraction. Without another word, he gave a single nod.
"Thanks," I muttered, my gratitude genuine, though I hated that I had to ask for help like this.
He shrugged casually, the tension in his posture easing. "Don't mention it."
In the morning, we went shopping as planned and then split up. Before I even reached the bus stop, I felt a cool breeze brush over my shoulders — Simon, as always, signaling his presence in his own quiet way. I gave a subtle nod, the reassurance grounding me, and continued on my way to school.
The book distribution dragged on until nearly half-past three, and I arrived just in time for the tail end. Naturally, I made up for my tardiness with a well-timed, charming smile at the teacher and asked for our books.
We were each handed four, two of which were the first and second volumes of literature. I mentally counted our lucky stars—seemed like we'd gotten off easy this year.
I rushed home to drop off my books and settled in to wait for Des. Rolo had left a note on the fridge, something about being out, likely on a mission of his own—school supplies or, knowing him, something more mysterious like cursed magic books. Either way, it wasn't my concern.
"Hello, little brother," Des greeted me with that familiar grin, his eyes sparkling with barely-contained energy. I merely nodded, giving him the bare minimum of acknowledgment.
"Shall we begin?"
"I love that enthusiasm," he said and he really misunderstood because I was just taking out my unnecessary frustrations on him.
I shrugged, walking toward the garden, trying to push my mind away from the tangled mess of thoughts. Alice was on a mission today, so I didn't have to worry about any arrows—small mercies.
As for the training session itself, it was a brutal reminder that progress doesn't come easily. Des kicked my ass, hard, again.
By the time I dragged myself to work, exhaustion clinging to my bones, Hajnal was already ready to give me a piece of her mind for being five minutes late.
And then, of course, the filthy rich stranger appeared again.
His presence had that unmistakable air about it, a scent of magic that stirred something deep in my gut — a warning, the way monsters sense danger. Even though he wasn't actively flaunting it, even though he did his best to keep it hidden from the other patrons, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Something dangerous.
He ordered the same thing as last time. I complied without a word.
I thought that would be the end of it. Of course, I was wrong.
"Aldo Aleshio Baldassarre," he said, his voice smooth as velvet. "And you are?"
"Ádám," I answered quietly, keeping my tone neutral.
There was something about this mage—a vibe that crawled beneath my skin. He chuckled lightly, the sound almost mocking. "Oh, I was curious about your real name."
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. This man wasn't just dangerous; he was calculating. Every word, every glance was part of some game I wasn't sure I wanted to play.
"I don't share my real name with strangers," I replied coolly, pretending to focus on my task.
He leaned back, smile never faltering. "Well, since I've told you mine, I'm not a stranger to you anymore."
I didn't respond, just focused on what I had to do.
"Go to the chamber and grab a load of beers," Hajnal's voice broke through, sharper than usual.
Her voice held an edge I didn't miss. She was nervous. No doubt about it. But I didn't question her. I just turned and walked toward the liquor chamber, shooting a quick glance over my shoulder as I did.
Hajnal was standing in front of the stranger now, her posture stiff, her hands moving in tense gestures that spoke more than her words. But he barely acknowledged her, his gaze locked on me as I disappeared behind the door. Even after I was out of sight, I could feel those fuchsia eyes watching me, as if they were searing into my very soul.
When I returned, he was gone. The space he'd occupied felt colder, emptier.
Hajnal leaned in close, her voice low and serious. "Keep your distance from dark mages, Shay. You've been in enough dangerous situations lately."
If only she knew.
I was already deep in the next one.
(...)
After work, I made my way home, drained but alert. I took a quick shower, then got dressed in something comfortable, but not too comfortable—the kind of clothes you wear when you're expecting trouble. My armor went on first, tucked beneath my shirt, and I slipped a dagger between my trousers and belt. You never knew when you might need it. A loose black hoodie completed the look, hiding my movements, and I made sure my mask was close by, just in case things spiraled out of control.
As I settled into bed, I listened to Simon's report. Alex was telling the truth—at least, that's what Simon had confirmed. He really had been at a job interview, just like he said. I sighed, but the relief was short-lived. It didn't explain the undercurrent of tension in the air, and I knew better than to take things at face value. Simon, sensing my unease, wasted no time and slipped through the walls, vanishing into the silence.
I lay back, closed my eyes, and let my focus settle on the sound of Alex's heartbeat. It was erratic, nervous. As time stretched on, it only got worse. The rhythm became more frantic, a reflection of something I couldn't yet see.
Around three in the morning, I felt it—a sudden shift. He moved. I waited, patient, counting the seconds. There were footsteps, soft and hesitant at first, but steady as he made his way down the stairs. I listened closely, tracking his every move. In the quiet of the night, I could hear as he dressed in the hall, the muffled sound of the door closing behind him.