I went back to work on Thursday.
Not because I wanted to. God, no. After three days of magical imprisonment, press conferences, and nightmare-sharing with my demon husband, the last thing I wanted was to return to my boring data analyst job and pretend everything was normal.
But Azryth insisted.
"You need to maintain appearances," he'd said over breakfast (prepared by invisible staff, served on china that was probably older than my great-grandparents). "Suddenly quitting your job would raise questions."
"I'm married to a billionaire CEO, people would understand."
"People would speculate, wonder what you're hiding and begin investigating." He'd looked at me over his coffee cup. "The best way to kill a story is to make it boring, you go back to work, live your life, and gradually the media loses interest."
"Gradually meaning...?"
"Six months, maybe a year."
A year of pretending to be happily married while bound to a demon I barely tolerated. Nice, fantastic. Love that for me.
So Thursday morning, I put on one of my new expensive work outfits (the staff had apparently disposed of all my old clothes, which I was definitely not bitter about), rode down in the elevator with Azryth (who had meetings at some other building), and caught a cab to my actual job.
The office was exactly as I'd left it. Beige cubicles, fluorescent lighting, the perpetual smell of burned coffee and quiet desperation.
I'd never been so happy to see it.
"Riven!" Sarah from accounting materialized before I'd even reached my desk. "Oh my god, RIVEN!"
Here we go.
"You got MARRIED!" She was practically vibrating. "To Azryth Valek! THE Azryth Valek! And you didn't tell ANYONE!"
"It was... private," I managed, already exhausted and I'd been here thirty seconds.
"Private? PRIVATE? Riven, he's a billionaire! He's on Forbes lists! He's…" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "...really hot. Like, unfairly hot."
"I'm aware."
"And you just casually married him without saying anything to anyone at work? We thought you were dead!"
"I sent an email."
"A three-line email that said you were taking personal time!" She swatted my arm. "Personal time! You got married to possibly the most eligible bachelor in the city and you called it 'personal time'!"
Other coworkers were emerging from their cubicles now, drawn by Sarah's excitement like moths to a flame. Great. Just great.
"Is it true you met through work?" Tom from IT asked, pushing his glasses up. "The press release said.."
"Were you, like, secretly dating this whole time?" Someone else chimed in. "How did we not know?"
"Can we meet him?"
"Is he as intense in person as he seems on TV?"
"Did you sign a prenup?"
The questions came rapid-fire, overlapping and overwhelming, everyone wanted details, everyone wanted to know how boring, invisible Riven Kael had somehow landed a billionaire CEO.
I wanted to scream.
"Guys, please," I held up my hands. "Can we... can we not do this right now? I just got back, I have a ton of work to catch up on..."
"Oh my god, you're so modest!" Sarah grabbed my arm. "Come on, you have to give us SOMETHING. What's he like? Is he romantic? Does he cook? Does he…"
That's when I saw it.
Just over Sarah's shoulder, a flicker of something that wasn't quite there, translucent, hovering near the water cooler.
A spirit.
My blood went cold.
I hadn't seen a spirit in years. Not since I was a kid and locked that part of myself away, but there it was, clear as day, a wispy humanoid shape that seemed to be watching me with eyeless curiosity.
"Riven? You okay?" Sarah was staring at me. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine," I lied. "Just tired, jet lag."
"From where? Did you guys go somewhere?"
"Yeah. Somewhere. Look, I really need to catch up on work..."
I extracted myself from the crowd with effort, promising vague future details, and practically ran to my cubicle.
The spirit followed.
Of course it did.
I sat down at my desk, staring at my monitors like they held the secrets of the universe, trying very hard to ignore the supernatural entity now hovering approximately three feet from my head.
It was small. Relatively harmless-looking, the kind of minor spirit that used to show up around me when I was a kid, drawn to whatever weird energy I apparently gave off.
But I hadn't seen one in over a decade, not since the accident, not since I'd learned to suppress that part of myself.
Except now I couldn't suppress it, the binding had changed something, it had awakened something.
The spirit drifted closer, reaching out with a wispy hand.
I jerked back in my chair.
"Nope," I whispered. "Absolutely not, go away."
It tilted its head, curious.
"I said go away!"
"Riven?" Karen's voice from the cubicle entrance. "Who are you talking to?"
The spirit vanished, just winked out of existence like it had never been there.
I spun around in my chair, probably looking guilty as hell. "No one! Myself. Just... talking myself through the workload. You know how it is."
Karen's expression suggested she very much did not know how it was, but she was too invested in my sudden social elevation to push it.
"I wanted to congratulate you personally," she said, and I realized with horror that she was holding a gift bag. "On your marriage, we're all so thrilled for you."
"Thanks," I said weakly, accepting the bag. Inside was a card (signed by everyone in the office, apparently) and a very expensive bottle of wine.
"If you ever want to arrange a meeting between Mr. Valek and our team," Karen continued, "for networking purposes, of course..."
"Of course."
"...I'm sure it would be very beneficial for the company."
There it was, the real reason everyone suddenly cared about my existence, I wasn't Riven the invisible data analyst anymore, I was Riven, the convenient corporate connection.
"I'll mention it to him," I said, knowing I would do no such thing.
Karen beamed. "Wonderful! Well, I'll let you get settled in, welcome back!"
She left. I slumped in my chair.
The spirit reappeared immediately.
"Oh, come on," I muttered.
It reached for me again. This time, when its wispy fingers made contact with my arm, I felt it. A cold tingle, like static electricity but wronger.
The sigil on my wrist flared.
The spirit recoiled, making a sound like wind through broken windows, then it vanished again, but I could still sense it. Hovering. Waiting.
I pulled out my phone and texted Azryth.
*There's a ghost at my desk.*
The response came thirty seconds later.
*Minor spirit. Ignore it.*
*I can't ignore it. It's RIGHT THERE.*
*You're emanating infernal energy now, spirits will be drawn to it, they're curious, not dangerous.*
*THERE'S A GHOST. AT MY DESK.*
*You'll adjust. Focus on your work.*
I stared at my phone in disbelief. He was seriously telling me to just... work... with a spirit hovering over my shoulder.
This was my life now.