"Finally," Zoe announced, sweeping her arms wide as if she'd personally invented morning. "You're here."
She crossed the porch in two quick strides and hooked Jade into a hug without asking permission, spinning her once like Jade weighed nothing at all.
"Jade! It's so good to see you again!" Zoe sang. "We're going to be the best of friends."
Jade blinked hard and wiped the last sting of tears from the corner of her eye the second Zoe let her go. She forced a polite smile, doing her best to keep her face from betraying how tight her chest still felt.
"Hello again," she managed.
Zoe beamed, oblivious. "I've been in the Mortal Realm forever, and I never had anyone to really talk to." She jabbed Jade's arm with a playful punch. "Then you show up and suddenly I have a gal pal. Who knew this would be so exciting?"
Jade smiled because it was easier than explaining that kindness could feel like a blade when you knew it wouldn't last.
Behind them, Aamon looked down at the steps as if they'd personally offended him. The longer Jade stayed here, the more welcomed she became, the more that old fear in her would dig its claws in. He'd promised her answers. He'd promised her she wouldn't be left behind. And now he had even less room to delay.
Zeth leaned in the doorway and made a dramatic gagging sound. "Gross. Are you two going to start doing girly crap now?"
Zoe laughed. "Aw, Zeth, don't be jealous." She winked at him. "We'll consider letting you join in."
Before Jade could protest, Zoe looped her arm through Jade's and tugged her up the porch steps like she'd already decided they belonged together. Zeth rolled his eyes and stepped aside, and Aamon followed behind them in silence, gaze sharp and watchful.
Zeth scooped up Jade's luggage as they passed. Aamon handed it off without a word, then veered toward the back deck with the single-minded urgency of someone who needed a cigarette more than oxygen.
Zeth's eyes followed him. Something about Aamon felt… off. Not angry. Not exactly. But tense in a way Zeth didn't like.
Upstairs, Zoe pushed open a door with a flourish. "This is going to be your room. I think I've got it all in order."
Jade stopped in the doorway.
The room was… pink. Not "a soft blush accent" pink. It was pink like someone had aggressively committed to the concept.
Jade let out a short laugh. "It's really pink."
Zoe shrugged, unbothered. "I'm used to providing housing for children. I've never had to decorate a room for an adult before. I may have… overcorrected."
Despite herself, Jade's shoulders loosened. The bed looked like it belonged in a cloud bank. Thick curtains framed the canopy. A fluffy chair sat in the corner with a TV across from it, and the bathroom matched in soft white and pale pink tiles with embroidered towels and a plush rug that made Jade suddenly terrified of tracking in dirt.
"It's beautiful," Jade said honestly. "Thank you."
Zoe's grin softened into something pleased and proud. "Good. Bathroom's yours, closet's yours, everything else should be obvious. If you need anything, you tell me."
She gave Jade a quick wave and breezed out, leaving Jade alone with a room that felt too clean, too gentle, too temporary.
Jade wandered the space once, fingertips brushing the edge of the canopy curtain. Then she sat on the bed, and after a few seconds of staring at nothing, she fell backward onto the mattress like her bones had finally remembered how tired they were.
She covered her face with both hands and then, the tears came. Hot and uncontrollable. She hated that the nicer they were, the more it hurt. That every warm moment felt like future grief waiting to happen. One day all she'd have left would be memory, and memory didn't keep you warm.
A soft voice called from the hall. "Your luggage will be right outside your door."
Zeth.
Jade cleared her throat, forcing her voice steady. "Thank you."
She didn't move for a long while after that.
Downstairs, Zoe started breakfast like it was a sacred ritual. Pots clinked. Something smelled like butter and comfort.
Outside, the moment the back door shut behind them, Aamon spoke.
"A Reaperling showed up at her door."
Zeth went still. "What did it want?"
Aamon took a slow drag from his cigarette and exhaled toward the trees. "What do you think it wanted?"
Zeth slammed a fist against the banister. "Shit. They started the investigation faster than I thought."
"That smug little bastard forced me to reveal who I am," Aamon said, voice flat with irritation. "I wanted to explain things slowly. Now she knows about the Reapers, and she knows why they're sniffing around."
Zeth's expression tightened. "How did she take it?"
Aamon shrugged, but his gaze stayed fixed on the dark line of woods. "Like it was Tuesday. She was more concerned she'd caused you trouble."
Then his eyes slid sideways to Zeth, lazy but sharp. "You need to repay her before this becomes a real problem."
Zeth rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been trying to figure out how, but it's not exactly normal for a demon to do an act of kindness."
Zeth let out a slow breath, frustration simmering. "When I was an angel, we had that mirror that showed mortal desires. Those arrogant idiots spent hours laughing at human desperation. You'd think they'd be more forgiving to a weaker species."
Aamon snorted. "Yeah. You used to be a real piece of shit."
Zeth glared at him. "And you're still an insufferable one." Aamon shrugged, as he flicked ash off his cigarette, unimpressed.
"Even angels only trade favors by contract," Zeth continued, quieter now. "I don't have time. If the Reaperlings are already investigating…" Zeth fell into silence, shaking his head at a loss for words.
Zeth's brows pulled down when he notices Aamon lost in his own thoughts.
"Aamon," Zeth said carefully, "you look like someone ran over your cat. What else aren't you telling me?"
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with." Aamon crushed the cigarette between his fingers. The ember died instantly. Zeth watched him, uneasy. Aamon had looked bored plenty of times. Amused, irritated, even violent. But uncertainty was not an emotion Aamon ever expressed. Zeth could not be sure, but he felt that was the best explanation for the expression Aamon now bore.
"I'm your right hand for a reason. If you're carrying something, let me carry part of it." Zeth offered a half smile, but it died quickly. Aamon rubbed his temples like the motion might scrape the thought out of his skull. Then he looked at Zeth and asked, too calmly.
"How do you feel toward Jade?"
Zeth blinked. "Feel about her? Is she causing your frustration?"
Aamon didn't answer. Zeth scratched the side of his head, trying to be honest without stepping out of turn.
"I feel… bad. She's nice, and her life was hell. Human hell." Zeth shrugged, unsure if his answer was what Aamon was looking for.
"I don't think she's fully human." Aamon finally said, his jaw tightened, the words came out just above a whisper.
Zeth stiffened. "That's not possible."
"I can't prove it," Aamon said. "But if you don't feel the same weakness around her, and I no longer burn her… what other explanation is there?"
Zeth's eyes widened. "Have you told her that?"
"How am I supposed to explain something I don't understand?" Aamon snapped, and then immediately reined it back in with effort. "It doesn't matter right now. We need to solve your problem first."
Zeth hesitated. "Speaking of… we may have a larger issue." Zeth took a breath, watching Aamon with cation. "Levi doesn't let mortals see him and live." Zeth tried to say the words calmly, but the moment Aamon's gaze darkened, Zeth felt his heart beat kick up quicker.
"If he dares," Aamon said, voice turning cold as iron, "I'll send him to exile myself."
Zeth took a half-step back on instinct. "And we also have to deal with the curator."
Aamon's anger pulsed once, hot enough to make the air feel thin, and then it vanished as quickly as it came. His shoulders dropped.
"You should speak to Jade about your situation," Aamon said, controlled again. "Maybe human etiquette helps where contracts can't. As for the curator…" His eyes narrowed. "I'll accompany Jade tomorrow."
Zeth studied him carefully. "And Jade?"
Aamon stared toward the upstairs window, expression unreadable. "I'm not leaving her alone," he said at last. "Not while the Reapers are watching."