I brushed past them, grabbing my coat and bag in silence. When I rounded the corner, I heard Amelie whisper, “Was she there the whole time?!”
Yep. The whole time.
I know I shouldn’t let it ruin my day, but I’m human.
When I got in the transport, I didn’t say anything to Kye. Just set the destination to home and kept my mouth shut on the way.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I fibbed. “Think I’m just tired.”
When we got home, I led us up the back. I didn’t want to see anyone, and I didn’t feel like explaining why I had a giant alien following me to my apartment.
I still didn’t know how I was going to explain that—him.
Locking my door, I hung up my stuff, kicked off my boots and turned on the projector vid for Kye.
Goodnight was all I said before retreating to my room.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
NINE
KYE
Last night was altogether weird. I’d pegged Holly as a tightly wound individual, but once she got out of her meeting, her mood had completely flipped. She’d almost seemed comatose.
Don’t know what was up, but it didn’t take a genius to know she lied about being tired. Upset? I’d believe that. My gut said it had something to do with Perry.
I rubbed my neck, grimacing, trying to work out the kink. Think I’d need more than a decorative pillow to prop my head up if Holly expected me to sleep on the couch for the next few weeks.
I perused the kitchen, noticing the tech hadn’t changed much since my last waking. Which made my current situation even more confusing.
What the hell happened to the last berchta? And who was Holly? They looked nothing alike. No familial resemblance whatsoever.
Sssssss!
I jumped back at the hiss. The device on the countertop lit up and started releasing hot liquid into a collection pot.
Leaning in, I sniffed, realizing it was coffee. Huh. Must’ve been on a timer. As soon as it filled, the last drop blooping into the pot, I heard Holly’s door creak open.
When she rounded the corner, the sight of her nearly spooked me as much as the unexpected hissing of the coffee maker.
Her eyes had dark circles of smudged cosmetics and her hair was flattened on one side of her head while the rest frizzed and shot in various directions. And she was wrapped in a big blanket that dragged the floor behind her.
Was that drool on her cheek?
“You look terrifying.”
“Jee,” she groaned, and I imagined the dead sounded nicer, “tell me what you really think.”
“I just did.”
She huffed. “Asshole.” Then poured her coffee and headed to the living room, plopping down on the couch.
I grabbed a cup of coffee and followed but kept a healthy distance. Somehow, she’d wrapped the blanket around her in a way that made it look like a hovel while she sniffed the coffee fumes like a true witch about to taste her brew.
“What happened to you?”
“Shhh,” she hushed me before taking a slurpy sip of her coffee and moaning. “It’s the first day of winter break and I’m not ready to brain yet.”
After a few more sips, she finally cracked her eyelids open again. Her green orbs slid my direction before she scowled. “Stop staring at me like that.”
I took my own taste of the coffee. “Like what?”
“Like I’m a feral pig about to gore you.”
“Are you?”
“No!” She took another sip. “Maybe.”
I snorted. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
We remained there in silence, the only sounds coming from her. Either a slurp or an ahh after a sip. Did she even know she was doing it?
“Why are you grinning?” She mumbled into her mug, eyeballing me suspiciously. “It’s creepy.”
Was I grinning? I let my lips slide back into a flat line before taking a gulp of coffee. Change of subject. “So about our deal...”
That seemed to perk Holly up. The coffee was breathing some life back into her.
“I’ve been thinking about that... and I have a confession to make.”
Why did that make me anxious? “This ought to be good.” I braced myself for a letdown. Berchtas would be berchtas after all.
“It’s just...” She fiddled with the handle of her mug. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not a witch. I don’t know how to free you. If I hadn’t seen you pop in and out of that cube with my own eyes, I still wouldn’t believe it’s true. I... I just thought you should know. I’m not going to trick you.”
I set my mug down. If my grip got any tighter, it’d shatter in my hand. She’d kept insisting she wasn’t a witch. There’d been inconsistencies. Things Holly did that a berchta wouldn’t.
My head kept telling me this was another trap. A trick. Even if she said otherwise.
The muscles in my jaw throbbed, but I loosened them enough to get out, “No freedom, no deal.”
I meant it. There were no favors I could offer Holly if she wasn’t willing to grant my freedom. I didn’t care if she claimed she couldn’t.
“Wait!” She set down her mug and got up, leaving the blanket behind. “What if I promised to help you get free?”
I sighed, my frustration venting from me. “And how would you do that?”
“I don’t know! I’ll make calls. I’ll try to get in touch with the elf who gifted me the cube. I-I’ll talk to her boss. And their boss, and the next boss until I can get to the bottom of this!”
The more she rambled, the louder she got until I wondered if the coffee short circuited her brain.
“Please? We’ll get this figured out. I’ll try my hardest to find a way to free you.”
It wasn’t what I asked for. I didn’t want the possibility of release. I wanted freedom. Cut and dried.
I wanted to tell Holly to fuck right off with that nonsense, but my anger wasn’t directed at her specifically. Just her kind. Or not her kind.
I didn’t know anymore!
Lying or not, I still didn’t fully trust Holly.
I chewed on it. Deep down I knew it was better than nothing. If Holly couldn’t free me, but was promising to help, could I afford to brush her offer aside?
Would I rather snatch the possibility of release or remain in this limbo with a guaranteed imprisonment?
Hated both options. Yet, one dangled hope.
I chose hope.
“Fine. But no half-assed attempts.”
Holly squealed, then sobered, holding up two fingers in some oddball human gesture. “No half-assing it. Scout’s honor.”
“And...” my eyes darted over our surroundings. “We have to put up decorations—”
“Wait, what?” Confusion crinkled her face.
“If I’m going to spend Christmas here, I want it to at least look like Christmas.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hands. “Let’s talk about this first. Be reasonable—”
“I am.”
“But I decorated!”
I hmphed. “Your sad snowflake doesn’t count.”
“It’s not sad. It has glitter.”
I speared her with a glare.